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dawnarowdite · 8 months

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I Didn’t Want to Fall (But Then I Stepped Right In)

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“I looked up at your face and those eyes, they drew me in.”

“It was too late for me.”

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Ivy gets sick, and Evelyn takes care of her

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Title from “Cliché” by Mxmtoon.

I did 1/3 of this like 4 months ago and the rest over the last 2 weeks. Sorry if it hops around a lot, I’m still new to writing :’)

This can be read as a Oneshot for now while I work on the other installments in the series. This is an alternate universe to my main story btw!

Also Ivy and Evelyn are like in 8th grade in this so they are still young.

Enjoy!!

(3,243 words)

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Ivy slowly opened her eyes, the bright light blinding her momentarily. She had a pounding headache and an extremely dry throat. She slowly sat up and suddenly got hit with a throbbing pain in the right side of her back. She slowly slid out of the small twin bed, making the pain in her back worse. She stumbled around, leaning against a nearby wall to regain her balance. Her head felt dizzy, and she was sweating profusely. She felt like she was high on some drug or something.

She slowly looked around and began taking in her surroundings, but she froze when she realized that this wasn’t her room, nor could she recognize it. They hid black walls behind tapestries and posters, and a bright red intricate rug sat on top of dark chestnut floors. The room was large, with little knickknacks and items were scattered throughout the floor. To the left wall, there was a long desk sitting in front of a large window with a sowing machine and the unsewn parts of what seemed to be a denim jacket. The black denim jacket had many felt flowers sewn on in a pretty pattern, connected by a long green vine. Leaning against the desk on the ground was a guitar with an intricate design on the base and the neck.

Ivy was just looking around in confusion when she saw a painting hanging on a nearby wall. She stepped forward and studied the painting closer, and she recognized where it was from. The painting was hers, but how is it here? Ivy swore that she threw that specific painting away after she accidentally ripped it. First, she wakes up in an unfamiliar room, feeling like someone drugged her, and now she finds old paintings she got rid of. She has to be dreaming.

It startled Ivy out of her thoughts when she heard the soft sounds of footsteps. Ivy freezes. She doesn’t know what to do. Is the person who kidnapped her cool? Or are they going to kill her? Ivy rushes back over to the bed and dashes under the many blankets piled on the bed. She peaks her head over the blankets, listening intently to the footsteps getting closer and closer. Ivy heard the slow turn of the doorhandle and she felt her entire body freeze. The door slowly creaked open and Ivy watched the familiar head of a fluffy-haired brunette peek from around the door.

“Evelyn?”

Evelyn looked up, and a soft smile formed on her face. She pushed the door entirely open and stood up, carrying a tray with soup and a bottle with an unrecognizable liquid inside. “You’re finally awake.” Evelyn happily whispered.

The older walked closer and set the tray down beside them. She brought her hand up to the other’s forehead and lightly rested her hand across it. Ivy hummed nicely at the cool feeling of the rings that decorated the elder's hand. “You’re burning up. How are you feeling?”

“Like crap,” Ivy mumbled. Her headache was killing her, her throat was painful, and she couldn’t even attempt to breathe out of her nose.

“Makes sense,” Evelyn smiled. “If you feel up to eating, I have some food that you can have."

Ivy was hungry, but she was slightly nauseous. She didn’t want to risk eating just in case. She didn’t want to throw up all over Evelyn. She shook her head and looked at the tray. In a glass bottle, there was a dark murky liquid. It looked viscous when it moved around in the bottle. “What’s that?” Ivy questioned.

Evelyn followed Ivy’s gaze. “Well, it’s a medicine that I made- I mean got for you.” Evelyn stumbled.

Medicine? That looks nothing like any of the medicine I’ve seen before. Looks like something Lucy would make. Ivy thought to herself. Ivy gazed up at the taller and noticed their nervous expression. Ivy could tell when the older was lying. For most, it’s hard to pick up on, but Ivy has known Evelyn for years. She could read the elder like a book.

Evelyn seemed to notice the judging silence because she quickly continued. “It should help with your fever, it will kill the headache and the sore throat. My mother uses it for my brothers all the time and it works like a charm.”

“Mmm,” said slowly.

Ivy always loved messing with the taller, so she messed with her a bit. “Nah, I’m good. You’ve probably poisoned it.” Ivy joked.

“What? No, I’d never do that! Why would you think that?” Evelyn rushed out, quickly becoming flustered.

“I don’t know. It’s probably poisoned,” Ivy said, trying her hardest to keep a straight face.

“What! No no no, trust me, it's not. I-I” Evelyn stuttered. Ivy couldn’t hold back her laughter and fell back onto the bed, a giggling mess. Evelyn was confused for a second before realizing what Ivy was doing. She scoffed and rolled her eyes fondly.

“Gods, why do I put up with you?” Evelyn sighed.

“Because you love me,” Ivy giggled. Evelyn felt her face warm up slightly. She knew it was just a joke, but she couldn’t help but blush at it. She didn’t know why she suddenly felt like this at the comment. They always joked like this, but this feeling was new. She turned her head to the side to control her quickly reddening cheeks. She stayed like that for a little, breathing in and out to calm her beating heart. Hearing a coughing sound to her right, she turned back towards the smaller.

“Heh bad idea to laugh with a sore throat,” Ivy whispered.

Evelyn shook her head and sat down next to Ivy. “Idiot,” she said under her breath. Ivy pushed Evelyn as hard as she could with the little strength she had. Evelyn held up the medicine again, handing it to Ivy. “This stuff is pretty strong, so it should kill your fever and help with the discomfort. Although it may knock you out for a little.”

Ivy nodded in understanding before bringing the bottle to her lips. She started sipping before gagging at the awful taste. “Oh yeah, I should mention that it tastes awful,” Evelyn added.

Ivy coughed violently. “Well, you could have told me that before!” She forced out. Evelyn laughed at the comment.

“Haha, sorry about that, it just slipped my mind.”

“Whatever,” Ivy grumbled.

She closed her eyes and mentally prepared herself for the awful taste she knew was about to come. She tilted her head back and downed the entire drink in one go. She grimaced at the thick and sticky feeling it left inside her throat. “That was awful.”

“Yeah, I’ve never gotten sick before so I never got to try it but from what I’ve heard, I’m a pretty lucky person,” Evelyn empathized, patting Ivy’s back.

“You’ve never gotten sick? Hard to believe.”

“Nah, I’m just immune to everything. Nothing can ever harm me,” the taller joked.

“Well, that’s probably going to change today because I probably just got you sick.”

“Nope! Impossible.”

“Yeah right.” The younger slurred.

They fell into a comfortable silence, something that didn’t always happen but wasn’t considered a bad thing by the two of them. Evelyn always enjoyed silence, something that might not make sense judging because she wants to be a musician when she grows up but, Evelyn never claimed she wanted to make sense. Anyway, Evelyn always believed in beauty in quiet, because when you’re silent, you can truly enjoy the beautiful sounds of the world around you.

However, between the two of them, silence doesn’t always last long. “So, how did I end up here?” Ivy asked. She couldn’t remember ever leaving school. The last thing she remembers is being in fourth-hour class with Evelyn, now, judging by the slightly darkened sky outside, that seemed like hours ago.

“Ah yes, so you know how earlier you said that you weren’t feeling too great. During class, I noticed you looked extremely pale and lethargic, so I was already debating taking you down to the nurse. And well, after the class ended, and when you went to stand up, you suddenly fainted. But I wasn’t able to catch you in time, so you may be a little sore from where you fell,” Evelyn explained.

Ivy nodded slowly. So I guess that explains why my back hurts so bad, she thought to herself.

Evelyn continued, “So I carried you down to the nurse's office with the help of a teacher and sat with you while they called your dads. But the nurse said they were out of town, so I offered to take you home since I don’t live far away. The nurse was hesitant at first but I called my mom and she picked us up and dropped us off here, my brothers and dad are out-of-town boys' boys trip and my mom has a party to go to so it’s just us tonight.”

“Oh thanks, Evelyn, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course, I would. You’re my best friend Ivy.”

“Well, I know how your dad is with not letting people over, so I’m sorry if it was hard to get both of them to agree.”

“Oh, no! It’s fine, don’t worry, I had it all handled. I mean, they were angry about it, especially with it just being us, but I got her to at least agree. After all, it’s only for a little while so it should be fine,” Evelyn quickly reassured, however the nervous expression from earlier seemed to reappear on Evelyn’s face.

“Are you sure? If it’s too much of a problem, I can make it home by myself. I’d hate to be a bother.”

“Ivy, I am not letting you walk home like this, especially when it’s this late. It’s way too dangerous and you could get hurt.”

“Evelyn, it’s not that bad, I swear. The thing you gave me is already helping me feel better. I should be alright going back, it’s not too far of a walk anyway-”

“No, I am not letting you walk home,” Evelyn interrupted, leaving no room for argument. Ivy groaned loudly and performed an Oscar-worthy eye roll. She flopped down flat onto her back, ignoring the slight pain the action caused there.

“Why are you so overprotective of me? I can handle myself, Evelyn, you don’t gotta baby me.” Ivy waited for a couple of seconds, waiting for some kind of witty remark from the taller. After receiving no such response, Ivy sat back up. Ivy noticed an annoyed glare staring straight into Ivy. “What’s with the angry face, huh?” Ivy teased, causing Evelyn’s eyebrows to furrow even deeper.

Ivy raised her hand and rested it on top of the other’s hair. She rubbed her hand back and forth, ruffling the soft brown locks. She pulled her hand back, looking at the mess she made of the other’s hair. Her eyes were completely covered by now messy curls and Ivy smirked at the deadpan expression that the other wore. “Aw, come on, don’t give me that face,” Ivy teased. The other gave no response, but Ivy could make out a sharp glare from behind the curls.

Ivy rested her head in her hand and gazed up at the girl in front of her. As Evelyn lowered her gaze to look at her, she tried her hardest to fight the urge to break her faux-angry face. Evelyn noticed Ivy’s face light up for a split second before she saw it turn into a smug grin. Evelyn cocked an eyebrow in confusion at her face. However, the confusion didn’t last for much longer. Ivy suddenly sprang up and captured Evelyn in a bear hug, causing the other to let out a small grunt at the sudden force. As Ivy settled into the taller’s arms, she hummed nicely at the warmth that she always seemed to radiate.

The unexpected hug shocked Evelyn, causing her hardened face to fall. A million thoughts raced through her mind in less than a millisecond, thoughts that are things you shouldn’t think about your best friend. She couldn’t help the bright pink color that rose to her cheeks, daring to rival Ivy's dyed stands of bubblegum pink hair. Evelyn felt butterflies dance around her stomach, twirling and flapping with glee. Evelyn thanked the Gods that Ivy was utterly oblivious to the thoughts going on inside her head right now.

Ivy let go of the older and sat back into her previous position on the bed, and Evelyn couldn’t help but feel a bit of disappointment at the loss of warmth she once felt. “There we go. There’s that smile I love,” Ivy teased. Evelyn rolled her eyes and shook her head in annoyance. However, she still unwillingly craved another hug from the other.

She closed her eyes to erase the thought from her mind, but they suddenly shot back open at the feeling of soft hands combing their way through Evelyn’s mess of curls. Evelyn didn’t know if her face could get any redder at this point.

Suddenly, a soft ringtone played, making her turn around to grab her phone resting on the nightstand. Evelyn’s mind was overrun with so many thoughts that it completely drowned out the conversation that Ivy was currently having on the phone.

“Bye Dad, I love you! I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Love you, bye!” Ivy hung up the phone and placed it back on the nightstand. She turned back towards the taller. “So good news. My dads said they were okay with me staying here. They will be home tomorrow, so I’ll either need a ride home or I will need a place to sleep here.” Ivy waited for a response from the other, but after a few moments, there was no sign of the sentence being received.

“Hello, Earth to Evelyn,” Ivy waved their hand in front of the taller’s face. "Evelyn?"

Evelyn jumped out of her thoughts, blinking rapidly in confusion. Ivy giggled softly to herself, finding the older’s lost looks amusing. “Sorry, I spaced out. What were you saying?” Evelyn sheepishly asked.

“I was just saying how I either need a ride home or a place to stay here.” Ivy noticed her voice began slurring a bit, she also began feeling more dizzier than before.

“Oh, if you felt better, we might give you a ride home. If not, I’m sure you could stay here for the night.”

“Would your parents be alright with that?”

“I’ll make them okay with it,” Evelyn smugly replied.

“Sometimes you are way too overprotective of me,” Ivy teased. Ivy received a dramatic eye roll and a playful shove in response. Ivy couldn’t help but wince at the pain the rough action caused in her back. “Ouch, I must have taken a terrible fall.”

Evelyn guiltily looked away. “Yeah, I didn't notice fast enough, and by the time I did, you were already on the floor. It was a pretty bad fall, took out a couple of chairs even.” She reached a hand to rub the back of her neck. “Does it hurt bad?”

“Yeah,” Ivy muttered. She reached a hand down to rest on the area, giving a slight rub before letting out a sudden yelp of pain. F-ck, bad idea. Her back now throbbed horribly, making Ivy bite down on her lip roughly, hard enough to draw blood. What the hell made it hurt this bad? Gods, this is probably the worst pain I have ever felt in my life.

“Ivy, are you ok?”

“F-ck I don’t know…” Her back throbbed painfully. It felt hot yet cold at the same time. “Gods, that hurt so bad,” she whined.

Gods, I can’t imagine how this feels. She must be feeling so much pain right now. I wish I could help her, but I can’t. I need to do something though, I can’t let her be in pain… Evelyn shook the thought from her head. No, no, it’s too dangerous. She could tell someone, and then we’d have to move again. But she wouldn’t do that, right? I trust her; I trust her more than anything. Evelyn chewed on her lip, biting off a couple of layers of skin accidentally. But we also trusted Mark and looked where that got us.

Evelyn kneeled to be on Ivy’s level, rested a hand on Ivy's back, and rubbed softly. She pulled her hand back quickly when she saw Ivy flinch. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Ivy let out a shaky breath. “Can you tell me where it hurts?”

“Along my right side.”

“Ok, don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” Evelyn reassured. “Are you comfortable? Do I need to move you?”

“I don’t know… I’m fine for now, though.” Ivy shifted around uncomfortably for a bit before settling down into a better position laying on her left side.

“I’m so sorry I let you fall. This is all my fault,” Evelyn mumbled bitterly. Ivy wanted to tell Evelyn off for blaming herself, but she was feeling tired. The medicine seemed to work. Ivy yawned tiredly. “You should get some sleep. Sleep is the best medicine, after all.” Evelyn suggested with softness in her tone.

“What about you?” Ivy yawned. “Where will you sleep?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I can either sleep on the couch or the floor. Doesn’t matter to me.”

“That’s… not fair to you. You deserve to sleep somewhere better. You shouldn’t sleep on… floor.” Ivy can barely hide the slur in her voice and she was stumbling over words lazily now.

“It’s alright, I’ve slept on the floor plenty of times, I’ll be okay,” Evelyn waved off.

“You can just sleep next to me. I don’t mind.” Ivy smiled sweetly. Evelyn was very grateful that Ivy was delirious so that she wasn’t able to see the way Evelyn turned as red as a peach at the innocent suggestion.

“Oh no no no, I’m alright. You get some rest and I’ll see you when you wake up!”

“But-” Ivy cut herself off with another yawn. She grumbled something incoherent before shifting down farther into the bed. Ivy looked at Evelyn expectantly, like she was waiting for something. “Help.”

“Help? With what?” Ivy slowly motioned to the sheets that were pushed to the end of the bed.

“Sheets” Ivy demanded, however the demand sounded more like a wine than a command. Evelyn laughed, finding humor at Ivy’s attempt at a command. Evelyn knew that if Ivy was less sick she would give Evelyn a smack across the head for that. But this time the sick girl didn’t seem to notice.

Evelyn rested the dark maroon sheets down softly around ivy’s tired form, and tucked the many blankets around her body. Evelyn looked back down at the younger and laughed quietly at the now sleeping form of the other. Evelyn tucked a small strand of brown hair behind Ivy’s ear. Evelyn smiled sweetly and reached over to the lamp sitting on the bedside table. It clicked softly as darkness filled the room, the only light coming from the quickly disappearing sun in the window.

Evelyn walked towards the door and opened it quietly. She looked back at Ivy’s sleeping form one last time and spoke softly into the evening’s air, “goodnight Ivy, sweet dreams…” She closed the door softly and whispered the last part to herself. “I love you…”

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I love how Evelyn is slowly becoming a simp and Ivy is completely and painfully oblivious.

Have a good morning, afternoon, and night! And make sure to stay hydrated! <3

-Aurora 🌻

#original story #omg I actually wrote something #Evelyn Gold Riddlyne #ivy gardner #short story #ao3 fanfic #ao3 fic #wlw #fantasy references #sick fic #hurt/comfort #fluff

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camgirlkaminari · 2 years

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she never stood a chance

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rayofsunas · 3 years

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otherworldly! s/o

A/n: happy monday! I woke up at 7am and since then I've been grinding out assignments/classes and now this, so I actually feel productive even though I've been staring at my computer for a while. but thank you for requesting anon! I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it! <33 also to understand this more, I'd like to point out that this connects to the speculation Genshin and Honkai are alternate universes of one another. so for example, Scaramouche is a harbinger from his time, but he may have been a warlord in a different, with a completely different name (keeping his appearance ofc) hope that makes sense. so if you've paid attention to what I've been saying about Scara and his mini-series, etc. you'll understand what I mean in Scara's lol. his reader insert is fem for the same reason as above btw!

Summary: otherworldly! s/o who arrived as a fallen meteor, that can bring back plants to life/heal deep wounds/scars and resurrect people.

Parings: Albedo/Gn! Reader, Xiao/Gn! Reader, Scaramouche/Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing, fluff, alternate realities/time traveler au! (reader is not the traveler), death/resurrection

Word count: 1.7k

Albedo

you don't have a vision like some people in Teyvat, because you're not from there; you're from a whole different world itself. instead, you have healing abilities that allow you to any energy you absorb in the form of food/sunlight, and you can use that energy to heal others. though, the healing can only go as far as healing minor injuries such as shallow cuts, scratches, or smoothing out scars. the same can work if you were to heal yourself.

Albedo is so intrigued when he finds you passed out in the pit of a meteor, half of your body hanging out while the other is awkwardly still in it

one, because who is this stranger in a meteor for crying out loud

and two, he notices your wounds on your arms are healing by themselves, slowly though

as someone who studies alchemy, life forms, and such, he's very intrigued that you're able to heal yourself without medicine, and he wonders if you can do the same to others

so he takes you to his lab, and runs a few tests

yes, you're still passed out when this happens, but he's just so curious and couldn't hold back

don't worry though, he's just drawing some blood and testing to see what you can do, because who knows, you may not even speak his language and won't be able to communicate with him (doesn't make a difference Albedo, you need COnSENT-)

so, just for science, he cuts the palm of his hand a little and decides to see if you can heal him

it doesn't take him long to notice the way the tips of your fingers are glowing a light greenish-yellow, so he immediately assumes that's the source of your powers and places a finger on his palm

it takes a second before anything happens, but eventually his cut starts to slowly close

once again he's even more shocked and intrigued

you have the natural ability and he's never come across someone with so much raw strength being able to do that

so you're right up his alley

when you wake up you're confused as hell (obviously) but thankfully, you can speak his language and are able to share your story

Albedo decides to make a deal with you

he'll help you get home if you can educate him more about your ability and your homeland. you agree

it works out perfectly, because you both have something the other needs/can do for the other (you have your power that he's interested in, and he's found a way for you to return home)

it's also easy to work together because of those same common interests, and it helps that he studies alchemy cause he's way more knowledgeable about you and the process can go a tiny bit quicker for you if you wish to return home sooner

at first you're merely friends, co-workers if you wish

but then he starts falling for you and vice versa

you both genuinely enjoy each others company, so you decide to stay in Teyvat a little while longer, even after he finds a way for you to go home

I wouldn't put it past Albedo to want to return to your world if you allow it

he'd be interested in this new or not so new world ;)

Xiao

you're like the traveler in a sense, where as soon as you climbed out of the meteor, you felt this connection to Teyvat and your vision randomly appeared. you have a dendro vision, something you learned was a rarity within liyue and mondstadt. along with that vision, you had the previous ability to grow/heal plants. you can bring back dead plants, though if they've been dead for a very long time, that's beyond your ability. they also can't be brought back if they've been badly burned.

Xiao may not be interested at first about what vision you have or even where you came from + why the hell you climbed out of a meteor

he's more interested in getting you home so you can stop asking questions about his own abilities/vision and odd, unfamiliar, but beautiful world

but boy when he catches you bringing back a wilted Glaze Lily?!? shook

he secretly thinks you're so cool and it piques his interest

he's never seen anyone do this before, and though his eyes were deceiving him when he first saw the lily spring to life again

but then when he catches you healing more plants, on your way to Liyue to hopefully find Zhongli for answers, he's so interested

he doesn't ask a crapload of questions, BUT he's going to ask at least one or two

"how're you doing that?"

"what are you?

the questions are kind of vague and require more in-depth explanations than he'd originally hoped, but he's surprisingly willing to listen to your story on the way to the harbor

after he learns your story and calls for Zhongli, he'll immediately leave and claim he has no further interests in you

but he's obviously lying

he finds as he's sitting on top of one the smaller mountains one night, looking down at the glowing Liyue town, he has more questions

way more questions

surprising Zhongli, Xiao shows appears when he's showing you around and getting you accustomed to the people/culture

he finds himself hoving behind you, shyly almost, never asking questions (at least not in Zhongli's presence

his reason for standing behind you is to protect you from any harm, so that way, when he decides to ask you more questions, you'll be there for him to do so and not dead or lost

when you tell Zhongli you'd wish to stay in Teyvat, specifically Liyue, Xiao is happy ngl

he can ask you questions and now that you're somewhat used to Liyue, having been here for four months already and planning to stay forever, he can catch you alone and ask questions without Zhongli hovering or acting as your tour guide lol

slowly, and I mean sluggishly slow, he's going to ask you more questions and he may, emphasis on may, tell you his own story

Scaramouche

you're from an alternate reality of Teyvat, a former doctor in your world. basically, Teyvat hundreds of years in the future. you've studied the human body to become a doctor obviously and you used to be able to bring back the dead using your bare hands. it didn't matter how far back ago they've died, as long as their full-body was still intact (full skeleton needed). though, the further back they died, the more energy you'd use, and if you run out of energy too soon, you couldn't bring them back. but now in this strange land, you can't. in exchange for your powers being lost, you're given an electro vision.

Scaramouche is tasked with finding out more about these odd meteors that keep appearing in various corners of Teyvat

and one very large one

he doesn't care who you are, what you are, what your excuse for being in Teyvat is, but he's been ordered to explore the fallen meteor and since you happened to be passed out inside it upon further exploration, you're part of the mystery he's been told to check out

and, it doesn't further help your situation that you landed in Snezhnaya, in the weirdest, not-so-warm clothing AND he finds you attractive (yes, you heard it here folks), plus you're going to catch hypothermia out here dressed like that

it would suck for a pretty girl such as yourself to be frozen to death

so Scaramouche decides to take you to the Tsaritsa, who leaves you in Scaramouche's care since he found you

she says he can do whatever he wants you, dispose of you, etc.

when you finally come too in an odd room on a couch in front of a fireplace, you're confused, cold as hell despite the flames, and when you see his face, you're immediately angered, which he finds odd

it's almost as if you recognize him... but he doesn't recognize you so he's confused as well

"what're you doing here?"

bold of you, he thinks. to question him with that tone as if you have authority here, over him

"watch yourself. I was going to ask you the same."

you don't seem too pleased with him though

"we agreed to never speak again, or so I thought..."

"are you stupid or are you just playing the stupid card to be released?" he'd say

though as soon as you burst and yell at him about a situation he's not familiar with, he's starting to understand a bit more

you're not from here, not anywhere in Teyvat at least, and by the way you're talking to him as if you know him, he assumed correctly that you're from an alternate reality, where he's also present

though despite his correct assumption, he demands answers and you cannot be allowed any kind of freedom until he gets them

you tell him your story and how in your world, a version of himself exists and that you were briefly married, though split because he was too much of a control/power freak for you and your daughter

he disagrees with the last part about him being a control/power freak ofc but

he decides he'll keep you around, against your wishes

one, because you can become useful if your resurrection abilities are awoken; you'd be able to save many fallen Fatui soldiers, with more training so you don't run out of energy ofc

and two, he doesn't think his other self would miss you very much if you're both on bad terms, he sure would miss such a pretty face if you were to leave though, that's for sure...

so, he's going to keep you around, so he can help train/get used to your electro vision. it works best that way since he has the same vision and can train you more efficiently (I think Scara has electro powers, just an assumption!)

he will also hopefully be able to awaken your resurrection abilities and if you can't, well then sorry you're disposable

overtime, all the Harbingers tease him about his little crush and he either denies it or strongly provokes it cause his ego is through his fucking hat

exhibit a. literally doesn't care that he's caught by childe staring at you train and will say something like, "and? you're just jealous she's not interested in you like she is me."

exhibit b. will throw a fit if someone accuses him and says he has, "no room for crushes or love." even if he was somewhat capable of it in your world...

3.22.21, rayofsunas

#rayofsunas #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #albedo #albedo x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader

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moonagedaydreamohyeah · 3 years

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One other thing that’s really problematic about Steve’s ending in Avwngers: Endgame, I think, is what it says about dealing with trauma.

I’ll explain. So, along with Bucky clearly being main part of Steve’s storyline, I also feel like the main theme in Steve’s story is dealing with and overcoming trauma. The trauma of loss, PTSD, and of having to find his place in the world after coming out of the ice.

A few examples of that being made more or less explicit are these:

Here we see Steve struggling to find himself and find people who get what he’s been through.

In the conversation between Steve and Sam at the VA, Sam is showing Steve that he’s not alone, that there are people who relate. Now, obviously noone else has had the experience of being frozen for 70 years only to wake up in a different time. But at the core, Steve’s trauma consists of human experiences that are not at all uncommon: Loss, guilt, and trouble finding oneself after coming back from a traumatic experience.

Sam does this the first time they meet as well, when he asks Steve if “it’s his bed that’s too soft”, showing him that he relates to what he’s going though, and making him aware that what he is experiencing is not an uncommon thing to struggle with as a war veteran.

At the VA, he tells him about loosing his “wingman” and not being able to save him, which almost relates 1:1 to the story of Steve losing Bucky in CA: TFA.

Important note: This not only makes Steve realize that there are people that relate to his trauma, it also Steve’s trauma relatable to the viewers- Which in my opinion,gives the creators a responsibility to treat that part of his storyline properly and delicately - which I actually think that they do to some degree, up until Endgame.

When Steve visits Peggy, she encourages him to start over, and move forward. What I think she is saying here isn’s that we shouldn’t grieve, but rather that in dealing with trauma, we have to accept that we can’t go back. The trauma won’t magically go away, because it has happened. And trying our best to move forward is the best that we can do.

The way I read it, what she is also doing, is that she’s saying goodbye, and telling him not to linger, but to move on, and live, ensuring him that she has already done so.

This again at it’s core, is something a lot of us can relate to - grieving for a lost love. And Peggy says it beautifully - “the best we can do is start over” - it won’t make you happy, expecting that in a couple of years you’ll find some stone that’ll magically take you back in time to that first love that you thought was going to last forever... oh...

Okay, moving on:

So the thing is, that I think Steve does move on, to some extend. In the CA: TWS we see Steve establishing relationships based on deeper connections and shared experiences with both Natasha

As well as with Sam (see/read above) ⬆

Another important example is when Steve and Sam first meet and Sam asks how it is for Steve to have woken up in the future.

In his answer, Steve is focusing on the positive sides to being in the future, which can be read as Steve healthily dealing with his situation, but it also depicts the nuances of trauma.

What I mean by that, relates back to what Peggy was saying: “We can’t go back”. Our trauma won’t magically dissappear, and then everything is all good. In order to move on, we have to accept that we will be carrying some of that baggage with us.

But that doesn’t mean that we can’t move on, that it will always be all bad. In this clip, Steve we’re right at the start of CA: TWS, and this is Steve’s first time meeting Sam, before knowing that Bucky is alive, and before having made any friends in the future. And what he’s saying is “Yeah, I miss my old life, I’ve been through something traumatic, but nothing is black and white, and I can appreciate the things that I have now”.

In CA: CW and the later Avengers movies, Steve’s continues developing new friendships, establishes somewhat of a life, and makes meaningful decisions for himself, based on his own ideals. He gets to grieve for Peggy, and even tries dating. (The whole Steve/Shannon debacle and the way she was treated, is a discussion for a whoole ‘nother day btw).

The fact that Steve gets to have Bucky back is of course already streching it in terms of realistic reprensentation of trauma. But I think that can be allowed, given that avenging Bucky and finding a tie between his old self, somebody who knew him all along, and now, makes up a complete storyline, that, aside from working really well, also tells a beautiful story about friendship.

(I mean the whole “one soulmate presumably dies, the other wakes up 70 years later, alone and feeling guilty, and it turns out his soulmate is actually alive, having been made a dangerous asset controlled by the enemy?? *cheff kiss* who comes up with that shit - okay, I might be little bit biased in this) :):):)

- Back to the point!

So, to sum up:

Steve starts off feeling completely alone because of the unique nature of of his trauma, and realizes that at the core of it, there are people who can actually relate to what he is going through (the grief of a lost love, the loss of a friend and the guilt of not being able to save them, struggling with finding yourself as well as your place in the world, in the aftermath of a traumatic experience).

He moves on and begins letting people in, letting himself grieve and establishes new ties that bind him to his surroundings, when he finds out that there is no going back, only forward, and he is in fact not alone with his experience og trauma.

Now, Idk about those of you guys that have had to go through either one of the above or other types of trauma, but to me, this process doesn’t sound unfamiliar.

I think that a lot of the reason why so many of us fell in love with Cap’s story, with the relationship between Steve and Bucky, Sam and Natasha, and the reason why these relationships are so inspired and well-written and exciting to examine in fandom content, is because this is a beautiful story about overcoming trauma in a nuanced and realistic way, of finding out that you’re not alone, and of using that knowledge to move forward.

When Steve finally gets Bucky back, everything isn’t back to normal or okay. They both have still lost, both others and parts of themselves, and they still have to process a lot of trauma, and find their place in a new time.

But that’s okay, because overcoming trauma is possible, even if it doesn’t magically go away. And it will be okay, because they have someone by their side who can get what they’re going through.

And I think a lot of us relate to that. And I also think that that’s a really important representation of trauma and of friendship and love (be it platonic or otherwise) between men, within a far-reaching franchise such as the MCU.

But oh no, MCU just had to get in a frantic Gay Panic over the fact that people fell for these beautiful dynamics and were inspired to create stories and art examining that, to more explicitely fit the reprensentation that they need, that they threw all of out the window, just to go out of their way in both Infinity War and Endgame, to ensure that there could be interpreted exactly zero Gayness between Steve and Bucky, and not even the smallest possibility of Steve not being 100% straight would be left open,

Leading to an ending that is the exact opposite of a healthy narrative when it comes to dealing with trauma:

- Little guy gets the buff body and the Girl, and then all the bad was gone and everything was perfect -

While completely ignoring the fact that he’s leaving his life and his friends behind, to go to a place where he knows nobody and his best friend is actively being tortured, and Steve will have to not be noticed in the past, probably leading to a very isolated life.

And thus, MCU managed to fuck up when it comes to appreciating their LGBTQ+ audience, representing healthy depictions of coping with trauma, as well as male friendship and non-toxic masculinity.

Only for this short clip, that would leave us all very dissapointed and confused:

Way to go.

Thanks for reading, if you made it this far:)

174 notes · View notes

satoruvt · 3 years

Text

for now; forever

pairing → kwon soonyoung x reader

word count → 9015

genre → mostly fluff, angst ↳ tags: ooh boy. firewatch au, banter, like a little bit (a lot) of pining, strangers to friends to… something, FLIRTING, reader’s kinda fucked up but its ok, hoshi’s weird and endearing (as always), a tiny bit of hurt/comfort, minghao best boy, soonyoung is very sweet it makes me want to cry

synopsis → after an unfortunate burnout that lands you in every critic’s negative and all-seeing eye, you decide to take a break from the one thing you know. you’re not sure if you’ll find what you’re looking for out in the middle of the woods - if you’re looking for anything at all - but at the very least, soonyoung will make the hunt a little less lonely.

warnings → there’s eventually a forest fire (starts on day 64 and is mentioned throughout the rest of the fic) that leads to an evacuation but it’s not super detailed, mentions and descriptions of creative burnout/breakdown

a/n → IT’S FINALLY HERE!!! i made a fancy banner nd everything <3 i know 9k isn’t a lot to some people but this is probably the longest one shot i’ve ever written LMAOO so i hope it’s paced ok and everything <33 PLEASE let me know what yall thought about this i am insanely proud of it. ok thats it hehe. hope you enjoy!!! see u on the other side!!!!

btw here’s a fun playlist of songs i listened to while writing mixed with some songs i think reflect the fic super well <33

DAY ONE.

So. You’re… out here, now.

Save for the bugs you have to swat at every fifteen seconds, the outdoors doesn’t seem that bad. The weather isn’t too hot (yet, your mind reminds you) and there’s something about the color of the sky that makes your heart constrict in your chest. You can’t tell if it’s good or bad, but given your luck recently, you’re hoping it’s not a warning for the coming months - God knows you need a break. The weight of the journal in your bag feels heavier than any of the camping gear you brought with you.

You debate texting Minghao that you’ve made it to the park safely, but when you check your phone after deciding yes, you see the words no service instead of the familiar lines of a signal. It’s not that big of a deal - you’d told him when you left that you probably wouldn’t have service at all - but a little part of you feels the tender shake of anxiety at the thought of not being able to contact your best friend.

He was the most worried out of everyone when you told him you were leaving for the summer. You can’t really blame him - it was abrupt, you saw the flyer at the grocery store and took it - but after what happened… doing something felt, feels, better than sitting around and waiting for nothing to happen. Waiting for a healing you aren’t sure will ever come, at least not completely.

“Is this really…” Minghao had started upon first entering your apartment after getting your text. Clothes were thrown all over your bedroom floor in an attempt to pack. “Do you need to do this?”

The tone of his voice told you he wasn’t going to try to stop you, that he just wanted to make sure this was what you needed. You had only nodded, sitting down on the edge of your bed to fold clothes and pack them into your suitcase.

“I just don’t want you to run away from it all,” Minghao said softly, sitting next to you. “You’ll need to face it eventually.”

“Is escaping really such a bad thing?” You asked, looking at Minghao. He gave you the look he did when you said something stupid, and if you weren’t still so wired from everything, you might have laughed. Instead, you sighed, placing a pair of pants into your suitcase. “I just need some time.”

Before you can face it, before you can come back, before you can write again… you still don’t know. Minghao had placed a kind hand on your shoulder to tell you there was no rush.

It’d taken no more than two days for you to get everything ready - including buying some apparently necessary survival equipment from Target. In a matter of a few hours you had gathered everything up, texted some other friends and your family that you might not be available the next few months and then… you left.

(Your manager was pretty pissed off that you left so suddenly, but she was also pissed off at you when you told her you needed a break for at least a few weeks, so you’re not really offended.)

You take one last longing look at your car before locking it, pocketing the keys, and starting on your hike.

The hike takes almost the whole day.

You think you almost cry when you finally see the watch tower you’re supposed to be staying in, your legs barely able to hold the rest of your body up. The hike wasn’t hard, really - long, though, and for someone who usually spends a work day sitting at a desk, you’re surprised you’re still alive. You find the little lock that holds the keys to the tower at the bottom of the stairs, fastened onto the railing. It takes a few seconds for you to enter the code you’d been given earlier, relishing in the soft breeze the cools the sweat on your face and neck. The sun is just barely starting to set beyond the mountains, a beautiful sight that you can’t properly focus on because all you want to do is pass out. You’re pretty sure you almost do on your way up the stairs.

The cabin at the top of the tower is pretty scarcely furnished, save for a few basic necessities (a gas stove rests on one wall, a small desk opposite to it by the door, a mini-fridge, and a bed in the corner plus what looks like a map table in the center of the room). It’s a little weird, a feeling caught between the nostalgia of moving into a new place and something you can’t quite name, but you figure you have a few months to make it all a little more comfortable.

For now, though, you feel like you’re on the last leg of your energy. Your mind is saying eat, sleep, eat, sleep on repeat and you have to agree with it, so you change the sheets on the bed, take down the boards over the windows while you wait for the macaroni from the Kraft box to cook. You end up eating a few forkfuls of poorly-made mac and cheese before crashing.

When you wake up, it’s to gentle static and a semi-clear, unfamiliar voice. It takes you a minute to remember where you are and what you’re doing, too disoriented to even think about the voice, but then - oh. Forest. Watch tower. Escape. Okay.

“Yo, Cottonwood! Am I coming through okay? Pick up your radio!”

Right. The voice. Radio?

“Come on, I saw you get in yesterday, I know you’re there. Unless,” a gasp, “you died! Oh my God, this is like a horror movie… and I’m next!”

You manage to wake up enough to locate your radio (a walkie-talkie resting on a charger on the desk) and, after a few seconds of gentle struggle, work it. “Not dead,” you say, then clear your throat because your voice does not sound good right after waking up. “I mean… almost. But not dead.”

There’s barely a moment of hesitation before the person on the other end hoots, apparently excited. “Arisen from the dead! Brought back to life by none other than the legendary Hoshi!”

A brief thought crosses your mind about having to listen to this guy all summer, but you quickly shoo it away. You won’t have to deal with it for the whole three months, right? “Who… who is Hoshi?”

“Me!” The voice answers, sounding a little too smug. “But it’s really just an alias. You can call me Soonyoung. I’m at Twin Peaks tower, west of yours!”

You spin around your cabin, looking through the windows cluelessly - how long have you been asleep, it’s practically afternoon - until you see a very small silhouette of another tower in the distance. You nod, then realize Soonyoung can’t see you. “Oh. Cool.”

“Aren’t you gonna tell me your name?” Soonyoung asks, but his tone is light, breezy. You blink, reciting your name to him in a daze. “Pretty! So, what brings you out here?”

You weren’t expecting that question. “What?”

Soonyoung giggles into the radio. “Everyone comes out here for some reason. Like… Jihoon says it’s ‘cause it helps him write music. And Joshua loves the outdoors, so… what’s your reason?”

“You…” you start, not exactly wanting to tell a stranger the reason you ran away from everything you know. “Do you normally ask this many questions?”

“Yeah!”

You feel yourself sigh, already tired again.

“I… just wanted to get away for a while,” you end up saying. A half-truth. “I live in the city.”

“No way,” Soonyoung gasps excitedly. “Me too! I wonder if both of us have ever been walking and, like, passed each other without knowing…”

This isn’t exactly what you had in mind when you thought of escaping.

DAY TWO.

The next morning, you dedicate time to getting a little more settled into your home for the next few months. You didn’t bring a lot of decor - you didn’t think you needed any - but even seeing your blanket on the bed and a few books you need to catch up on reading stacked on the desk makes the place feel a little bit more like you. You eventually reach the journal you packed (that Minghao made you pack) and stare at it like it might do something. Like it might tell you to write again, or like it might tell you to leave everything behind. You don’t really know what you want from it.

A sing-songed version of your name comes from your radio and you blink away from the journal, set it down on the desk. “Good morning!” Soonyoung says from the other end, and you feel yourself take a deep breath as you pick up your radio and press down the button so he can hear you.

“Morning, Soonyoung,” you respond, calm compared to his excitement.

“So… what are your plans for today?”

“Um,” you pause, brows furrowed, looking towards the direction of his tower even though you know he can’t see you. “Looking out for fires?”

“That’s boring,” is Soonyoung’s immediate response, and you laugh a little.

“Kinda my job for a while.”

And listen, you’ve known Soonyoung for less than a full 24 hours, but even before your brain really comprehends what he’s saying you know you’re not going to like it. “Wait, that reminds me,” he says, tone of his voice a little less overexcited puppy. “What did you do before this? Or, like, what’s your career? I mean, you don’t have to answer, I just thought it could be a way for us to get to know each other…”

His voice fades away for the split second you remember a little too much all at once, but somehow your voice still sounds put together when you speak. “Nothing special,” you say. There’s a pause when you don’t elaborate any further, but instead of asking about it, Soonyoung changes the subject.

“Okay!” he says, back to a more playful tone. “Anyways, I asked about your plans ‘cause I kind of need you to do something for me.”

“Already asking favors?” you tease. “We just met, Soonyoung.”

You hear him laugh, loud and hearty, and it’s contagious even through a radio line so you feel your own smile pull at your lips. “One of the other lookouts found some teenagers with fireworks,” he informs you. “I need you to meet him and get the fireworks from him.”

Your feet are already in your shoes, one halfway tied. “You can’t do this?”

Soonyoung’s voice is strangely thoughtful, but you catch a hint of mischief at the end of his sentence. “I would, but Jihoonie said he’d eat me if I tried to see him again and I think he’s serious this time.”

He tells you where the other lookout - Jihoon - should be and gives you a quick lesson on how to properly use your map to get there. You’re not really excited for another hike this early on (you’re still sore from even getting up here) but by the time you meet the halfway mark you’re convinced it’s not that bad. It’s neither long nor challenging, and… well, Soonyoung’s insistent on keeping you company the whole time.

When you see what looks like a guy at the edge of a now-abandoned camp, you tell Soonyoung you’ll radio him when you’re on your way back to your tower. “Hey,” you call out as you get closer. The man looks up at you, his eyes sharp but not unkind. “Jihoon?”

“Yeah,” he replies. Under his cap you notice that his hair is a gentle silver, almost purple. He’s dressed casually, like you, and you suppose it’s a given since there’s no exact dress code for this job. “You’re the newbie?”

You didn’t know people knew about you. “I.. I guess,” you say, then tell him your name.

“Cool,” Jihoon says, voice flat like he’s distracted. He picks up the bag next to his feet and hands it to you. “Take these. Thanks.”

He starts to walk away, down a trail opposite the direction you came, but you think of earlier, when Soonyoung asked about your job (or when he didn’t). You call after Jihoon, hesitate, but then opt to make this quick since he looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. “Have you and Soonyoung… known each other for long?”

Jihoon turns around. He shrugs, then nods. “We met in college, a few years ago.”

“What kind of person is he?”

You watch in vague amusement as Jihoon’s nose scrunches up, but the small smile on his face refuses to hide and it makes you giggle. “Really annyoing,” he tells you, then pauses for a second like he’s looking for the right words, “kind of overwhelming sometimes. But he’s good. He’s someone you want around.”

Someone you want around, your brain repeats to you. You nod with a friendly smile as you haphazardly stuff the fireworks in your hiking bag. “Okay. Thank you.”

Jihoon offers an acknowledging nod of his own before continuing on his way back to his tower. You’re about five minutes into your hike back to yours when your radio sounds from your pocket with a now-familiar voice.

“Are you on your way back?” Soonyoung asks. “You forgot to tell me!”

“Sorry, yeah, I am now. I was talkin’ to Jihoon for a second.”

“Really? That’s weird. He rarely talks to anyone, especially strangers. What’d you talk about?”

You can’t help the small smile that lands on your face as you speak. “Stuff to blackmail you with.”

You think you hear Soonyoung’s groan all the way from his tower, and your smile only grows when it turns into a laugh.

DAY FIVE.

The clouds look dark today.

They haven’t covered the sun completely yet, but they’re closing in fast. You hope that it rains, already sick and tired of the disgusting heat, but also. Something else.

Rainy days always used to be the best to write, your brain supplies to you. You brave a glance at the still-unopened journal on the desk, thinking that maybe…

Your radio turning on drags you away from the crack in metaphorical door, coming at the perfect time as if to tell you that you’re not ready yet. You listen to it, grab the radio, murmur a greeting to Soonyoung.

“It’s getting pretty dark out, huh?” He says. He must be looking at the sky, too.

“Yeah,” you hum. “Hopefully the storm isn’t too bad.”

The line goes quiet, but you know that Soonyoung’s still there even if he isn’t saying anything. The knowledge comforts you, just a little.

“Well... got any rainy day stories?”

DAY SEVENTEEN.

“So, Soonyoung,” you call into your radio as you step outside. You’ve taken advantage of the small balcony around the entire cabin, setting up a few chairs you found in the storage unit at the bottom of the tower (just in case someone stops by, you tell yourself) and a small table you weren’t using inside. The nights are hot but still relaxing, and you find yourself sitting outside often, catching up on reading or taking in the stars.

“I can’t believe you radioed me first,” Soonyoung responds, and you hear the smugness in his voice. “I’m so happy!”

Soonyoung somehow almost always manages to be with you in the nights, too, even if not physically. Being away from the urban civilization you’re used to has been a little difficult to adjust to, but you feel significantly less alone whenever you hear him calling you. You tell him to be quiet even though both of you are laughing. The distant crickets make your chest warm.

“What do you do? You didn’t tell me before,” You ask him after a second. There’s a small wave of anxiety that rushes over you at the idea that he might call you out about when he asked you the same thing. That was two weeks ago, though, you think, and Soonyoung wouldn’t. You’re sure he’s been able to tell that it’s a touchy subject. You’re not as discreet as you think you are, even if (and you’ve learned this the past few weeks) Soonyoung’s a bit more on the oblivious side sometimes.

“I dance!”

Somehow, despite having not even seen what he looks like, it’s fitting. “Like… teach, or choreograph, or…”

“A little of everything,” Soonyoung tells you, and then starts elaborating. His voice echoes through your radio and you look up at the stars as you listen to him, trying to map out constellations from memory. He sounds so excited to simply talk about it, you can’t imagine what he must look like when he’s actually on stage. You hope you get to see it one day.

“You’ll have to teach me something sometime,” you say once he’s finished, voicing your thoughts. With a giggle that sounds like the stars above you, he tells you he’d love to.

A moment of quiet passes, spent focusing on the tiny specks of fireflies you see in the field around your tower and feeling the summer breeze as it passes. The words slip out of your mouth with much less resistance than you thought they would.

“I used to write,” you murmur into your radio. It takes you a moment to register the heavy beat of your heart, like you just got back from a run.

“Used to?” Soonyoung asks, curious but soft.

“For now,” you answer. The ache you’ve become familiar with throbs in your chest. “Hopefully not forever.”

It’s not the whole story - not even close - but you figure you might be able to tell him with time. The thought stresses you out even when you have nothing to stress about, and you think Soonyoung is psychic because he says, next, “the stars are really pretty tonight.”

You’re not looking at the sky when you answer. Your head is tilted in the direction of his tower.

“They really are,” you say.

DAY THIRTY-THREE.

You’ve fallen into a bit of a routine with Soonyoung.

Not a day goes by where you don’t talk to him - the one day you radioed and he didn’t pick up you genuinely thought something happened to him, seconds away from calling a park ranger. Right before you actually did it, though, he picked up his radio and said he had been taking a nap.

(His voice was a little groggy from sleep, sounded like he was pouting whether he meant to or not and you’d be lying if you said the thought didn’t make your heart skip a few beats - but if anyone asked, you’d definitely lie about it.)

One of you calls the other around the same time every morning and you don’t put down your radio until the sun is well behind the mountains. You’ve grown used to his presence, in a way, even if you can’t really feel him with you (though sometimes you swear you can). It’s comforting to have him out there with you, and it’s been so long since you’ve talked to someone the way you do with Soonyoung… you find yourself looking forward to every morning, waiting for when you hear him over your radio.

Today is no different.

Well, in an unrelated way, it is - you have to hike to a supply box to get your surplus of food for the next month and a half you have left. But even as you’re doing inventory of what you have left in your cabin on a piece of paper, you’re waiting for Soonyoung’s usual good morning. It comes as always, makes you smile when you hear it.

“Good morning!”

You leave your scratch paper on your desk and reach for your radio. “Morning,” you say after you’ve pressed the button down.

“So…” Soonyoung trails off. “Supply drop day.”

“Yeah,” you reply, sitting on your bed.

“Both of us are getting crates of food today…”

What is he getting at? “Uh-huh…?”

“Both of us… getting supplies… from the same place.”

A confused laugh leaves your lips. “Soonyoung, what is your point?”

Even for as often as you talk to him, you’re still always surprised when he starts yelling. “Let’s meet up!” he exclaims, obviously excited, and it clicks in your head.

“Oh my God, can we do that?”

“Yeah!” Soonyoung sounds like he’s grinning, smile palpable in his voice. “If we pull some strings with the other lookouts and get hiking at the right time, it’s totally possible.”

Holy shit. Your heart is beating wildly, butterflies swarming around it at the thought of meeting Soonyoung in person. “Okay,” you tell him, noting that you sound a little breathless. “Okay, yeah, let’s do it.”

It takes a few minutes to work everything out - the supply boxes should be dropped off by midday, so you can leave your tower around then and get to the drop location in a little over an hour. Soonyoung has to leave earlier than you since he’s farther away, but if everything goes well the two of you should get to the drop location close to the same time, margin of error small. You radio Jihoon to cover for you while you’re out, and he agrees, although he sounds a bit miffed.

When you finally leave for your hike, you’re not expecting how quiet it is. Soonyoung’s usually there to cover it up with his voice - you don’t hike often (you’ve not had to, given your job for the summer is to watch for fires) but whenever you have he’s been there to keep you company. You plug in your earphones about halfway through your trip just to drown out the quiet, something more to listen to than just trees and the sound of your own footsteps.

Eventually you make it to the supply box, and, well. There’s a guy. Standing in front of a long, green box - you think you see lookout tower names engraved ever few inches: Thorofare, Cottonwood, Twin Peaks. Packing some ready-to-eat meals into his backpack.

Holy shit, Soonyoung? your brain automatically asks, and it sends your heart spiraling up and down. You’re not sure what you thought he looked like, but it wasn’t this. Tall, lean - wait, you don’t even know if this is actually him yet.

Before you can think too much about it, you call out, voice tentative. “Are you… Soonyoung?”

The man turns around, shakes his head with a kind smile. “No,” he says. “I’m Joshua.”

You think about throwing yourself into the river by your tower when you get back for absolutely no reason. Somehow you manage a polite smile and a gentle sorry.

“No, don’t apologize, you’re fine!” Joshua chirps, adjusting the cap on his head. “You’re looking for him?”

You pause. Those aren’t the exact words you would use, but they’re not technically wrong, so you nod. After all, you don’t know what he looks like (you probably should have asked him before both of you left, but you weren’t expecting another person to be here).

“Please don’t tell me he got lost again,” Joshua says, suddenly looking tired, and you look back at him wide-eyed because... again? Has this happened before?

“No,” you tell him. “No, I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t know. Since we both have to pick up supplies he thought it’d be cool if we met up in person.”

Joshua sighs, seemingly relieved, then continues packing what’s left of his supplies into his backpack as he hums. “That’s weird.”

“What is?”

He shrugs. “Soonyoung likes the outdoors, yeah, but the supply box is a pretty far hike from his tower. I think the last few summers he’s had them delivered.”

Oh, you think, and maybe say out loud, because then Joshua’s looking back at you, a mischievous smile on his face.

“He must really like you to come all the way out here,” he tells you, and you laugh like it might get rid of all the thoughts popping up in your mind that you keep telling yourself to stop thinking about.

“And yet,” you say wistfully, looking towards the horizon. “I still come second to Jihoon.”

This time Joshua laughs, a friendly sound, and the two of you fall into a playful conversation. He’s somewhat a superior of yours, though not by a far gap - as the lookout who’s been on the job the longest, he oversees the rest of you (which is you, Soonyoung, Jihoon, and a few others you have yet to come across). You get along with him easily and it’s weird to think that if you hadn’t gone through what you did a few months ago you wouldn’t be here talking to him, establishing what could be a new friendship. You wonder if that’s a new step towards healing, finding a way to be grateful even if it was horrible.

You talk to Joshua for a while until he says he should get back to his tower. You nod, tell him goodbye (and thanks for his company) and he starts to walk away -

“Shua!”

A burst of platinum blonde hair rushes past you from the opposite direction you came from, heading for Joshua. The new guy drops a bag at his feet and almost softly crashes into Joshua, who has this look on his face you can’t really decipher.

“Hey, Soonyoung,” he says, and you blink.

Soonyoung, like… your Soonyoung? The Soonyoung you’ve been talking to for weeks?

You watch as the two hug, Soonyoung excited to see Joshua and completely ignoring you (though you’re not sure he’s doing it intentionally). All you can do is stand there. This is him, your brain keeps telling you. This is the guy.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” Soonyoung exclaims, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. “How are you? How have things been?”

Joshua shrugs, a small smile on his face as he puts a gentle hand on Soonyoung’s head and starts… petting. “I’ve been good, same old deal. I know that you’ve been doing good too, though, as far as I’ve seen from your reports.”

Soonyoung beams at the praise and you take note of it in the back of your mind (you also note the way Joshua’s treating him like a toddler and how it’s working). He opens his mouth to say something else but looks around and meets your eyes - for a second there’s nothing at all, but then you think you see an exclamation mark actually pop above his head.

The yell of your name is so loud it makes you jump. “Oh my God,” Soonyoung whines, falling to his knees dramatically. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you!”

“This is the first time you’ve seen me,” you say. You can’t seem to hold back your smile.

Joshua excuses himself (again) and finally moves on his way, says he’s in Thorofare lookout if anything happens. The sun is mellow on your skin as you look at Soonyoung, take him in - light hair, warm eyes, tan skin. His smile matches your own. A breeze shifts by, slow and sweet.

“Hi,” you say.

Soonyoung grins.

“Hey.”

So the bag you saw Soonyoung drop on the ground before was, in fact, for a picnic.

He didn’t bring a lot of food (the whole point of the hike was to get supply boxes anyways) aside from a few candy bars he’d saved for today. He did bring a blanket, however, and the two of you set everything up on the edge of a rock not too far away from the drop location, under some trees. It looks over a small ravine, a stream cutting through at the bottom.

The time goes by like it was never there in the first place, spent talking and laughing. Soonyoung is just as animated in person as you thought he’d be, telling stories wildly as the two of you snack away a portion of your supplies. You know the two of you don’t have much time together, given how late it already was when Soonyoung arrived and both of your hikes back to your respective towers, but it’s still… refreshing, almost, to be with him like this, to finally get a piece of him you didn’t before. To hear him without the crackle of the radio and to see him.

To see him.

Something stirs in your chest when you look at him lying back on the blanket, arms supporting his head with his eyes closed. The sun lights up his skin in a golden glow, like honey, and the dark roots growing into his blonde hair are somehow endearing. The breath leaves your lungs when you finally label him as pretty. You hope you can blame the heat in your cheeks on the sun.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” Soonyoung sighs, still not opening his eyes. You almost reach out to brush the hair away from his face, but a breeze comes by and does it for you. You hope it’s not a sign.

“It would be nice, huh,” you murmur in response. You finally break your gaze from Soonyoung and lean back on your hands, soaking up the feeling of the blue sky.

It’s now that you remember what Joshua had said earlier about Soonyoung usually getting his supplies delivered, and you turn back to him. “Hey, before you got to the supply box, Joshua and I were talking.” Soonyoung hums in acknowledgement. “Is the hike from your tower to here really that bad?”

His voice strains as he stretches, opening his eyes to look at you. “I mean, yeah, it’s a bitch of a hike to take sometimes. But it’s not really hard except for a few spots, just long.”

You furrow your brows. When you agreed to meet him, you didn’t think it’d be this much trouble for him. “And you came all this way so we could… what, sit here and eat? Like we do most of the time anyways? Just separately?”

Soonyoung pouts at you and you feel personally attacked. “Food tastes good when you’re with other people.”

You give him a soft, semi-playful glare, and Soonyoung offers a small giggle. You turn back towards the view in front of you.

“Did you not want me to come down?” He asks, and he doesn’t sound… sad, really, more observant. Like he wants to know where you’re at.

“No,” you answer almost immediately (Jesus, your brain says). “I just… it’s a long trip. It doesn’t really seem like it’s worth the effort.”

Like I’m worth the effort, you think to yourself.

You hear Soonyoung shuffle behind you and turn around to look at him again, finding him sitting up straight. “It is to me,” he tells you, and there’s something in his eyes that holds you in your spot. The tips of his fingers brush against yours on the blanket. You’d look down if you didn’t think you’d miss something. “I wanted to.”

In a second, it clicks.

It’s not much longer until Soonyoung needs to start heading back. The two of you get your things together, and you help him pack up the picnic supplies he brought. When everything’s said and done and the two of you are back by the supply box, there’s a second of uncharacteristic quiet that falls over you.

“Let me know when you get back,” you say after a moment. Soonyoung grins.

“You’re worried about me!” he swoons, and you hit him on the shoulder playfully, but don’t deny it. It can be dangerous out there, and even if Soonyoung has been out here longer than you, anything can happen.

“Just radio me, okay?”

Soonyoung smiles, something a little softer from before. He nods. “I will. You be safe too.”

You nod in return, taking a few steps back towards the trail that leads back to your tower. “Talk to you later, Hoshi.”

The last you see of him before you turn around is the grin on his face.

DAY THIRTY-FOUR.

It feels like forever since you’ve been here.

A window is open and welcomes a distant ambiance of the forest around you, trees and birds and animals. The journal you brought with you is open to the first page, but remains untouched - nothing on the pages. At least, not yet.

(The not yet you always tell yourself seems closer, this time, not so far away. Within reach, or at least within reason.)

Soonyoung had called in that the hike from yesterday had worn him out and he needed a nap. You had laughed fondly at how tired he sounded, told him to sleep well and that you’d be waiting for him. And you feel the words, right at your fingertips, the way the rest and wait to be written. Their presence is both terrifying and reassuring.

You don’t think they’ll be able to bleed out correctly, not the way they used to since it’s been so long. But they’re there, in your mind, in your heart.

You pick up the pen you got out, feel the weight of it as you click it a few times. You tap it on the desk once, twice, and then.

You take a deep breath and start to write.

DAY SIXTY-FOUR.

“Are you lookin’ at the fire?”

Your eyes leave the page of your book at Soonyoung’s voice crackling from the radio, looking around your cabin windows to see that, oh, there is a fire. You’d kind of forgotten that it’s… literally your job. At least there are multiple lookouts.

You fold the corner of the page you’re on as a makeshift bookmark before closing the book and setting it down on your bed as you stand to get your radio. You grab a can of soda from the mini-fridge you’ve started to utilize (as best you can, given it does a mediocre job at keeping things cool) before walking out onto the deck, sitting in one of the chairs you set up. “Now I am,” you tell Soonyoung as you adjust the chair so it faces the direction of the fire. You think you’re the closest lookout to it - which makes the fact that you didn’t notice it even worse - but not in any danger. The smoke paints the evening sky red-orange, washing over the purples and blues the sun used earlier as it set. “You’ve called it in?”

“Yeah, told Josh, who told the higher-ups,” Soonyoung responds, voice strangely… solemn? He sighs his next words. “They’ll probably send a crew in for suppression by morning.”

“Is there a reason you sound sad about putting a potentially dangerous forest fire out?” You tease, cracking open your soda and taking a sip. The carbonation feels good in your mouth, pops on your tongue.

“I’m not!” Soonyoung denies after some sputtering, and you laugh. “Just… ugh, looking at it - I’ve worked here every summer for the past, like, five years, and I’ve only ever seen two fires. Three, counting this one.” His voice gains a certain softness, like he’s lost in thought. “I don’t want the place to burn down or anything, but… don’t you think it’s kind of beautiful?”

It’s a little morally ambiguous, but as you look at the distant, licking flames you have to agree. In the dark, it’s vibrant, more than just ashy smoke and the smell of burning - it glows red, flushes out silhouettes of the trees in between it and you.

“I guess it is,” you hum into your radio as you stare at it.

“So. What should we name it?”

“The fire?”

“Yes,” Soonyoung says, dramatic as always. “She needs a name! I’ve always given them names, but I’ll let you do the honor this time.”

There’s something sweet in the way he offers you the chance to name it, and you try not to dwell on it too much. “Ah,” you start, thinking for a moment. “Barbara. The Barbara Fire.”

Soonyoung howls out a laugh and it’s infectious; you feel the tugging of your lips into a grin. “That is the worst thing that has ever come out of your mouth,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “We are not naming it the Barbara Fire.”

You huff out a fake whine. “Come on, it’s just Barb! She’s beautiful.”

“But deadly,” Soonyoung adds in a voice that sounds like it came straight out of a crime documentary. It makes you giggle, the two of you throwing around silly, stupid names.

“Okay, okay,” you say after a few minutes. “Then… hmm, the Hoshi Fire.”

There’s a long, long pause, and you hold down the button to your radio again. “Uh oh, is he broken?”

Soonyoung’s voice comes through, joking, but you sense a pinch of sincerity. “You want to name a raging forest fire after me… I feel like I shouldn’t be happy but I kind of am.”

You remember to push the button as you laugh, looking directly at the fire and shouting, “I hereby dub thee… the Hoshi Fire!” as loud as you can.

After the laughter dies down, for a second, there’s quiet - not awkward or for the sake of a bit, just quiet. Soonyoung’s not telling a story, you’re not giving witty comebacks. It’s just the two of you and the fire, alone in the forest.

It breaks eventually. Soft, gentle. “I’m glad you’re out here, you know,” Soonyoung says.

His words make you stiffen and relax all at once, and almost on instinct you look in the direction of his tower. You can’t really see the silhouette - the sun too far gone, taking the last of its light with it - but you know it’s there, can pinpoint exactly where it should be. You hope Soonyoung’s looking over at you, too.

And even if the reason you’re here in the first place is still a tender bruise to be pressed, you find yourself recovering a little more every day. “I am, too,” you respond. “I… I wish you were over here.”

It’s a roundabout way to say I miss you, but a part of you thinks neither of you are ready for something that explicit. You reach a hand out in the direction of Soonyoung’s tower, grasping at it like it might bring him to you. It’s not as if you can’t meet up with him again, but… between the distance and the fact that there’s an actual fire to keep your eye on, it certainly wouldn’t be easy. This is the closest you can get for now.

“I wish I was too,” Soonyoung says. You close your eyes to picture him, pretty smile and fond eyes. “We could hang out, like last time.”

“Without the radios,” you add.

“We could, um… you know.”

His words make you giggle, and you feel a little lucky that you’re not holding down the button. Your heart is pounding in your chest, nervous but stable, secure, as you reply. A welcomed beat, even if startling.

“No, I don’t,” you tell him. Your soda sits forgotten, half-empty, on the floor of the deck by your feet. You don’t bother paying attention to the fire. “What could we do?”

Soonyoung groans and this time you laugh pushing the button so he can hear you, warm and affectionate. “Don’t tease me! You know what I’m talking about.”

You do. “What could we do, Soonyoung?”

There’s a pause, but you know he’s still there.

“Well,” he says eventually. “Let me tell you.”

DAY SEVENTY-SIX.

The fire’s gotten big.

You feel like you shouldn’t be surprised by it - it’s a wildfire, they’re not exactly easy to contain, but seeing it up close like this is vastly different from being in a city and barely even noticing the smoke. It is larger than life out here, consuming more and more of the forest each day. The last few days you’ve spent inside due to the low visibility (though it’s not as if you take a hike every day anyways). It makes you wonder if it’s safe to stay out here.

“...Hey,” Soonyoung radios in. “I have a question for you.”

Rationally, you know whatever it is, it can’t be that serious. But your heart picks up pace anyways, beats a little harder as you pick up your radio to respond. “Look, it was Jihoon’s idea to use the fireworks, I promise neither of us knew it would start the fire.”

Soonyoung sputters out a laugh and you match him, feeling yourself calm down. “I’ll… I’ll ask Jihoon about that later, but - I really do have something to ask you.”

You lay down in your bed, unmade and messy. “Is it… bad?”

“I don’t think so,” Soonyoung responds. “Maybe?”

“Okay…” you say, timid. “Shoot.”

“When you first got here, I asked why you took the job,” he says, and you nod to yourself, remembering the first call you got from him. “You just… never really responded. I get it if it’s, like, a touchy subject, I don’t want to pressure you at all…”

“No,” you interrupt before you realize what you’re saying. You take a deep breath, Soonyoung waits. “No, it’s probably… it might be good to talk about it. I’ll tell you.”

He murmurs an okay, tells you to take your time and you do. It’s not like you’re scared to tell him - you’ve come to trust him, you know he won’t judge you for anything that happened or think any differently of you. You’re not even sure that’s why it’s hard for you to talk about - rather than any sort of outside force that might affect you, it’s more… more of a part of you that you felt you lost. It’s more coming to terms - even after these months - and going through the motions. It’s scary to talk about disconnection, especially from the one thing you loved (love?) more than anything.

“I… write,” is how you start, looking at the ceiling of your cabin as you speak. “Or wrote, maybe? I’m an author. I have a few books published. Writing is something I’ve loved since I was so young, it’s… a part of me, really. It’s special to me.

“When I finally got a manager and a publishing company and all that official stuff, I was so excited. It was like I was finally living my dream. I wrote my first book and got it published and it did really well, so my management asked me to do another, and I did. Then they asked for one after that, and I didn’t… it felt too soon, in a way. Rushed. But I guess I did it because I had to, because I figured this just came with being a writer and not everything is what you want it to be - and I didn’t want to risk losing what I had wanted almost my entire life.”

You take a moment to steady yourself, note the tremble of your fingers and take a few deep breaths. Soonyoung waits for you, patient and kind. “It went like that for a while, and I lost touch with writing. I stopped loving the only thing I knew how to love. I was so detached from it. A few months before I took this job my manager set up a press conference for me, and I… kind of… had a breakdown. At the conference. So I’m out here to run away for a second. Be away from it all.”

The quiet that follows doesn’t make you nervous, really, but you’re still waiting for a reply of any sort. Even if it’s the common oh or it’ll be okay that you got from distant friends and relatives who didn’t know what was really going on. But Soonyoung was patient with you, so you can be patient with him.

“Have you written since?” He asks after a minute, and your eyes flash over to the journal on your desk. One page has the familiar strokes and loops of your handwriting, written after you met Soonyoung in person.

“Only once,” you respond, truthful.

“When you start to write again… will you show me?”

And for some reason the question is so tender, filled to the brim with something you want to name. It makes tears spring to your eyes as you look out over the rising fire, trying not to let your voice shake too much as you reply.

(Maybe it’s because he said when and not if, maybe it’s because he didn’t tell you it’ll be okay, maybe it’s because it’s him and not someone else telling you the same thing.)

“Yeah,” you say, letting go of the button to sniff. “Yeah, I will. If you let me see one of your dances.”

You hear Soonyoung’s smile through the radio as he tells you it’s a deal.

DAY SEVENTY-EIGHT.

For the first time since you started working, someone who isn’t Soonyoung calls you through the radio (not counting the time you radioed Jihoon to make sure he was still alive, because you only saw him once and hadn’t heard from him since then). You hear the familiar click that tells you someone’s on the station, and you’re fully expecting Soonyoung’s voice to light up your cabin the way it always does. Instead, Joshua’s voice rings through.

“You there?” He asks after a comfortable call of your name, and you pick up your radio.

“Yeah, I’m here. It’s been a while,” you respond, and Joshua hums. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve… been,” he tells you, which earns a small laugh. “Anyways, I called in to let you know that they’re having trouble controlling the fire -”

You take a look at the giant flume of smoke north of your tower, nodding to yourself. “I can see that.”

Joshua tells you to be quiet. You hear the friendly smile in his voice.

“There’ll be an evacuation team here within the next two days,” he says. “Maybe less, shouldn’t be more. They’re gonna get all the lookouts evacuated.”

Oh. Evacuation? That means… the city. Your apartment, back to your family and friends. You’d forgotten an entire world exists outside of the bubble you created for yourself.

“Okay,” you say slowly, still looking at the fire. “I assume you’ve told the other lookouts?”

“I’ve got a few more to call, but other than that, yeah, everyone’s covered. I told Soonyoung and Jihoon first,” Joshua tells you, and you blink at the fact that you didn’t even have to ask. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

“Yeah. Stay safe, Josh.”

You sit for a while after that, trying to cope with the feeling in your chest. You… you feel better about everything, about writing, for sure, but. But. It’s cut short, even if only by a little over a week. You haven’t even started packing anything up - so much of you is strewn around the cabin, in the field around your tower, in the trees of the forest you hiked through. You don’t think you’re ready to say goodbye to the place you’ve made your home and the people (person, your heart whispers) with it.

The sun starts to set and the fire grows. You sit on your bed and look at the things you’ve made your own, a sunken, unfinished emotion spreading through you. Eventually it is Soonyoung’s voice that comes from your radio, low and humorous.

“The Hoshi Fire can’t be stopped…” he murmurs, and you laugh despite the loss you feel.

“Please,” you groan into your radio after you’ve grabbed it. “We’re getting evacuated!”

Soonyoung giggles, something mischievous that makes your heart warm with slow appreciation. “I can’t believe it’s ending so soon,” you say, standing up to walk around aimlessly.

“Yeah, the summer went by super fast, huh?” Soonyoung replies. “I’m kind of excited, though. I’ve missed a proper dance studio.”

That’s… oh.

A current of mild surprise rolls through you and you think you physically feel your jaw drop, just a little. That - that hurt. More than you want it to, more than you think it should - but it’s... fine. You’ve only known Soonyoung for a few months, it’s not like…

You realize you haven’t responded and open your mouth on purpose this time. “I wish we could share the sentiment, Hoshi,” you joke, hoping it doesn’t sound too stiff.

If Soonyoung notices anything, he doesn’t say it. Only laughs, sweet and genuine. “I’m sure you’ll find something to yearn for just as I yearn for dance,” he says dramatically. You laugh, forced, because yeah, you will. Maybe you already have.

DAY EIGHTY.

Evacuation day.

Last day in your tower. Last day in the forest. Last day of the job you took to escape, to heal. It’s spent packing up the things you brought with you, throwing away everything else. Joshua said helicopters would be touching down at two points - Twin Peaks lookout and Mule Point lookout. Twin Peaks is Soonyoung’s tower, and if you planned it out right, you could probably get there and leave with him.

You tell yourself that the reason you can’t is because Mule Point is closer. Safer. They’re evacuating you for a reason.

“Hey.”

Speak of the devil, you think, grabbing your radio from its charging port. “Hi.”

“So,” Soonyoung says. For the first time since you’ve known him, he seems awkward. “Evacuation day.”

“Yessir…”

“What evacuation point are you hiking to?”

You pause, hesitate like you’re about to say something you shouldn’t. “Mule Point,” you manage to get out. “It’s closer,” you say after, your brain telling you to justify it, explain.

“What did the Hoshi Fire ever do to you?” Soonyoung huffs out through a laugh, and it sounds so unaffected that you feel that ache from before again. After a second, he adds, “so… this’ll be the last we talk. At least for a while.”

That realization hits you like a brick and the sting behind your eyes seems normal - regardless of whatever was built between you and Soonyoung or what lead you out here in the first place, it’s so sad that it’s ending. “Yeah,” you say quietly. Everything is packed, you just need to get hiking. “I, um. Is it cheesy to say thank you?”

“Maybe,” Soonyoung chuckles. “But it’ll also make me feel really good, so…”

You feel yourself calm down and let out your own small giggle. Maybe it was always meant to end this way, a little too soon, a little too sad. “Really… thanks, Soonyoung. I think it would’ve been worse for me if I got the silence I came out here for. I’m glad I had you to talk to.”

“Thank you, too,” Soonyoung says back. “I hope… you write again. I’ll talk to you later.”

The mention of it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to, and you feel the smallest of smiles on your lips. “Yeah. Later.”

The radio clicks off and that’s the last you hear from Soonyoung.

EPILOGUE.

It’s hard to come back.

From nature, from Soonyoung - everything, really. To go from trees and fires and talking every night back to car horns, busy sidewalks and your own apartment. It’s weird to wake up and not see the immediate shine of the sun through your windows. But you come back, slowly get used to the life you had before.

And you start writing.

Given - you get back in August only start writing again in October, but you write. Little by little, page after page. Maybe not every day, like you used to, but the words are back and they are eager to get out, leave their mark as your work. You stand up to your management (with Minghao’s support) and take control of your own writing schedule. The pressure from before leaves. Writing becomes special more than ever, returns as the one thing you never get truly tired of.

Minghao asks about the job, your summer. You tell him it was easy and peaceful, and that you’re thankful for the time. You mention the other lookouts. You mention Soonyoung. Only in passing, though.

(Minghao definitely suspects something, but even if he asked, you wouldn’t tell him much.)

Sometimes you allow yourself to think of him - when you got back, you looked for a Soonyoung in the multiple dance studios in the city, but since you didn’t have a last name or any proper title, nothing came up. After that, you gave up, but he still shows up in your thoughts from time to time, bright blonde hair (the roots growing in) and glowing smile. It’s cold out, now, so you hope he isn’t getting sick and that he’s staying warm.

You’re reminded of just how cold it is when you have to brace the outside world to get your mail. There’s not even any wind, just an undeniable cold, and it makes your nose burn and eyes water as you walk the short trek to your mailbox. You find your slot and push your key in, unlocking it and gathering your mail. Most of it is junk, but you could have sworn something you ordered was supposed to come today -

“Excuse me?”

You turn your head to the voice and find a man walking towards you, his head turned down towards a small piece of paper. His voice sounds familiar, but you figure it must just be a neighbor you haven’t spoken to in a while. You turn your body to him, waiting for him to look up from the note so you can place a name on him. “Do you know where I can find an author…”

He looks up.

It’s Soonyoung.

He looks a little different - his hair is shorter, dyed black instead of the platinum you remember from last July. But it’s definitely him. The longer you stare at each other the wider his smile gets, and you stand, speechless. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world. Your heart starts to race, warms you up beneath your jacket.

“Found you,” Soonyoung grins. You can’t take your eyes off of him.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “You did.”

#caratwritersclub #kdiner #CRIES I'M SO EXCITED #THIS FIC IS MY BABY I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY IT!!!!#seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #kwon soonyoung x reader #kwon soonyoung imagine #svt hoshi x reader #svt hoshi imagine #seventeen hoshi x reader #seventeen hoshi imagine #hoshi x reader #hoshi imagine

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wlw-multi-fandom-imagines · 4 years

Note

“I just don’t feel anything anymore” Imagine with hijacked!reader and Katniss? Btw I love your writing :)

Peeta might have been a best-case scenario.

Katniss had been reminding herself of this the entire journey to the rehabilitation facility you were being housed at. It had been almost 4 months since the final rumblings of the war had faded out before she got word that you were alive and ‘on the mend’. With further prodding, she had gotten the details of your condition.

Even after being assured you were in the hands of the best trained surviving specialists, Katniss could feel the apprehension in their reports. Despite her best attempts, she couldn't keep the memories of Peeta with his hands around her throat and that unfamiliar, desperately violent look in his eyes locked away. Yes, she was preparing herself for the worse and she had every right to.

At least, that’s what Katniss told herself as she entered the tall grey building and trailed someone down a labyrinth of pale, plain hallways. Finally, they stopped at a room and Katniss forced herself to exchange a nod as her guide prattled off a few sentences. As he left, she opened the door in front of her and slowly crept inside.

“Relax, I gradated the attack-mode phase weeks ago.”

The tightness in Katniss’s chest loosened and she fully entered the room to see you lounging in the chair beside the single bed that furnished the otherwise empty space. Though you had never been especially well-nourished before the Rebellion, your body told new tales of hardships and Katniss knew you weren’t in any condition to do serious damage even if you did decide to attack.

“Y/N, I...”

With all her thinking on the way to see you, Katniss hadn’t thought to plan on what she would say. As she faltered for words, you remained motionless in the chair.

“Surprised I’m not dead?”

“Honestly, yes. When I didn’t hear anything in the reports, I assumed the worst.”

“You were right to.”

Katniss tentatively made her way to sit on the edge of your mattress, watching the whole time to see if the movements startled you.

“So, how are you feeling?”

“I just don’t feel anything anymore. They got rid of all the fake shit in my head and now it’s just...nothing.”

Katniss waited for you to continue or to look to her for a response, but you didn’t. After a few seconds, the thought dawned on her.

Whatever ‘specialists’ were in charge of your treatment had probably brought her here to see if it could elicit some sort of response from you. Even worse, it hadn’t worked.

#katniss everdeen #katniss everdeen x reader #Katniss Everdeen Imagine #The Hunger Games #the hunger games imagine #thg imagine #thg x reader #thg

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hazymultiverse · 4 years

Text

Piercings.

OKAY HERE IT IS FOLKS

So, in my defense, I was enabled. You can blame/Thank @e-lectroma and @butter3drainbows for this thirst extravaganza. I hope you like reading as much as I liked writing/fantasizing it into reality.

I’ve managed to combine Lala’s Risotto piercing headcanons with my own kinks, and the result? This absolute wet dream of a fic. Please check out her Risotto art btw, it’s delicious and soul fulfilling.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT! Also, warnings for: Pierced goth dick, afab reader, rough sex, and reader getting put in a full Nelson during sex bc whoops there’s my kink. Also cursing but I don’t think that’s the real sin here.

—

You were used to getting dropped onto the bed, and rather enjoyed it at this point.

Reaching up eagerly as Risotto leaned down, you wrapped your arms around his neck, hand slipping under his hat to play with his hair. He wasted no time in continuing the kiss that had been interrupted only to carry you to your bedroom, not wanting to deal with the limited space of your couch. The two of you quickly tangling yourselves with each other in a make out session that was rapidly approaching something more.

Breaking away with heaving breaths, he began to kiss and bite at your neck, relishing in how your grip tightened on his back, “I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?” You asked, “is the big bad capo gonna give me something real nice?”

Your teasing was met with a playful growl, and a light swat on the thigh, which did nothing to discourage your giggling. It quickly turned to a whine of protest however, as he stood up, discarding his coat and hat, your hands grabbing for him to come back, to keep touching you.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?”

His slacks were off now, leaving him only in his briefs, hard bulge straining against his thigh, making your mouth water. It wasn’t your first time, but there was always a rush when you saw him, a worrying voice in the back on your mind in sheer panic of whether that thing would break you if you tried to make it fit. Determination quickly won through however, and you’d managed just fine.

Sitting up, you traced the outline of his cock, looking up at him with a coy grin, faltering as your finger ran into some obvious, unfamiliar shapes.

“What-?”

“See for yourself, baby.” His hand caressed your head softly, like he was comforting a frightened kitten, and you worked up the courage to hook your fingers into the elastic, pulling them down.

There was absolute silence, then you finally managed to choke out a single word.

“Fuck.”

Metal decorated his cock, from a Prince Albert at the tip, a set of Jacobs ladder studs,and then finally one ring on the underside, just before his balls.

Your eyes were wide, mind frozen up on the sight, he’d never had them before, and while sure, you hadn’t had sex a ton of times, you’re sure this is something you’d remember.

“Fuck.” You whimpered again, the hand in your hair stilling, and beginning to pull away.

“We don’t have to-“

“Yes we do.” You clutched at his hip, other hand running up his abs as you looked up at him, desperately, “Fuck, I need this inside of me, baby.”

He laughed, a low rumble in his chest, and his dick bounced lightly with the motion, hypnotizing you as the piercings caught the light, “That won’t be an issue.”

You nearly pounced on him, both of you working to rid you of your clothes, his hand slid down, rubbing at your pussy, nearly groaning aloud at how wet you already were.

“This excited already?” He murmured in your ear, two fingers sliding inside you, slowly curling and stretching.

“Can you- hah! Blame me?” You whined, “Where were these before? You didn’t just get them, did you?”

“I took them out,” He admitted, “I’ve been told that the full package can be rather... intimidating.”

Thinking of your sheer disbelief at his size the first time, you reluctantly agreed, it definitely would have terrified you. But seeing them now? It just made you regret never making their acquaintance -a mistake you never hoped to make again-

His fingers left you with a wet pull, and you laid back on the bed, stroking yourself as you watched him slick his cock with your juices, finally rubbing the head on your pussy, cool ball of the jewelry making you shiver.

“Please,” You whispered, “Oh please baby, oh capo, I need it.”

“So needy.” He mused, but relented all the same, lining himself up and beginning to push in. You bit your lip at the familiar stretch, eyes rolling back at the new foreign feeling of his piercings. He drew back, giving a short shallow thrust, pressing in farther each time, lips twitching into a smirk at every noise it drew from you.

Once he finally bottomed out, he stilled for a moment, allowing you to catch your breath, it was an odd feeling, but not too different so far, the last ring at the base of his cock pressed right at the edge of your hole, smooth, just another layer to all the new sensations.

In your deliberations, you hadn’t noticed him pulling back until he had slammed back in, jostling your entire body with the force of his thrust. He repeated the motion and you yelped, each deep thrust rubbing against your walls in a new way, making you quiver. But just as you began to roll your hips into the motion, he pulled out completely.

You climbed into his lap eagerly as he sat at the headboard, spun around with ease as he pulled your back to his chest. Guiding his cock back inside you, you heard his breath stutter, grinding your hips down earned you a hard sigh, his hand reaching around to paw at your chest, face tucked into the crook of your neck.

You rode him, feeling how his legs tensed under you with every minuscule buck of his hips, leaning back enough to meet in an open mouthed kiss for just a moment.

“I know you can go harder than this, come on baby, I won’t break.”

He grunted, arm holding you tighter as you rolled your hips teasingly.

“Please capo?” You moaned softly.

His grip changed, hooking around your thighs, just behind your knees, and locking his fingers firmly behind your head, holding you firmly in place.

You gasped, both in surprise and amusement at how you could wrap him around your finger with just a few words. His hips slammed up into yours once, twice, then picked up the pace, pounding into you desperately.

Your entire body bounced with each thrust, your voice steadily getting louder as his thick cock thoroughly wrecked you. The piercings down his shaft rubbing against your sweet spot with every thrust, making you nearly scream out his name.

Your head spun, looking down and watching every inch slide in and out, metal catching the light and leaving starry spots in your eyes, or it may have been the way the very tip of his cock, and the silver ball attached, was brushing against your cervix.

“Don’t stop- please don’t stop-“ You begged, clutching at the sheets under you.

“Come on kitten, take it, fucking take it.” He growled against your skin, his breath heavy, he swallowed hard at the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing around him.

Eyes fluttering shut, your body tensed and spasmed, built up pleasure hitting you like a wave, wet juices soaking his cock. Your voice came out as a weak and broken sob, calling his name one last time as you went limp, walls tightening around his dick as he kept going, drawing out your orgasm and sending a tingling feeling through your spine.

The slap of his hips against yours was wet, and utterly sinful to listen to, loud and rapid as he chased his peak, body jewelry making your blood run hot as it continued its drag against your overstimulated g spot, making your vision go white.

He pulled out, releasing one of your legs to clutch his cock, stroking himself for just moments before letting out a barked curse between gritted teeth, cum releasing in strands over your stomach.

You both sat, panting and covered in sweat,rolling off his stomach, you let out a short breathy laugh.

“I like them.”

“Hm?”

“Your piercings, I really like them.”

He chuckled, sitting up and stretching, standing up from the bed to make his way to the bathroom.

A loud pounding on the ceiling came from the apartment above you.

“I think we bothered my neighbors.”

“Too bad, gimme ten minutes, I’ll piss em off again.”

#Ta daaaaa #I hope you like it <3 #I’m happy with it tbh #I need someone to come wreck me like this #Risotto Nero #not sfw #E-lectroma #butter3drainbows #fic #rough #tw body mods

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witchyw0rm · 4 years

Text

Posting one of my wips here since I don't want to bother one of my friends and ask them to read it, it's probably not good considering I'm writing it to cope but here ya go!

(It's Stobotnik btw)

Any and all emotions that weren't hatred or anger were new and unfamiliar territory to Robotnik, he grew up only feeling hatred for the brutal world that had wronged him in a myriad of ways and anger towards all the people who lived in it. As he got older he stopped believing that there were good people alive on this godforsaken planet and started building strong stone walls that separated him from the society that treated him like an outcast and denied him of simple but complex emotions like love. He soon began only to feel love for his machines, after all, they couldn't leave and break his heart unless he programmed them to, it was perfect. His robots wouldn't abandon him in a run down orphanage two weeks after his birth like his parents had, they wouldn't constantly bully him and break all of his inventions and call him a freak like all of the children he unfortunately had to deal with for the first sixteen years of his life before the government took him in, his robots would give him the respect he deserved but would never receive from another human being. But later on, Robotnik began to feel empty, he hated to admit it but there was still one thing his machines couldn’t truly give him no matter how he programmed them, deep down, underneath all the walls, hatred and anger he still craved for the love of another human being. He wanted somebody who would appear and finally give him all the love he had missed out on during his childhood and who would ignore all of his flaws he’s tried for so long to cover up, but that was just wishful thinking, right? But almost as if somebody had caught word of his wish, agent Lee Stone appeared at his lab precisely one week later.

“ Hello doctor! I’m agent Stone and I’ve been sent to assist you in your work! “ He heard an unfamiliar, cheery voice ring out behind him which echoed throughout the lab.

Robotnik quickly got up and approached the unfamillier agent, “ Pin yourself to the wall. “ He demanded but only earned a confused look from the other man.

“ Excuse me, doctor? “

“ Oh! I didn’t realize that they gave me an agent who’s hard of hearing, “ He responded in a mocking tone, “ I said pin yourself to the wall, now, would you like me to repeat it once more or was your underdeveloped brain finally able to process and understand my impossibly simple demand? “ Robotnik was quickly becoming more irritated as the conversation went on.

Eventually, Stone gave Robotnik an understanding nod and made his way to the closest wall and placed his hands on his chest, Robotnik walked over to the agent and leaned closer to him to where their noses were nearly touching and they could feel each other's breath on their faces.

" Agent Stone was it? " Before Stone could answer Robotnik continued, " Look Stone, I’m going to make this short, I don't need you, you're just a glorified babysitter sent by my superiors due to their fear that I'll release all their secrets to the world! You're worthless and an utter waste of skin! A waste of my time! You'd be of more use dead and buried than working with me! So you'd better shut your trap and do what I want, or I'll skin you alive and decorate my creations with your flesh. Got it? “ Robotnik bared his teeth like a wolf preparing to attack its prey.

“ Yes, doctor. “ Was all Stone managed to say as he tried to hold back tears, his entire body was shaking out of fear, he had heard stories of Robotnik making his assistants cry but experiencing it first hand felt completely different than overhearing stories in the breakroom.

A devilish smile spread over the doctors face at the sight of the trembling agent, “ Good, “ He said, stepping away from Stone, “ Now, go get me a latte with steamed Austrian goat milk, don’t keep me waiting. “ Stone quickly exited the lab and Robotnik went back to working on his latest robot.

Five minutes passed before agent Stone returned with the doctor's latte, he appeared to have calmed down a bit and was back to his usual calm composure. " Here's your latte doctor, " he said, placing the cup on Robotnik's cluttered desk " I hope it meets your expectations. "

The doctor didn't expect much as terms of taste go but when he took a quick sip of the latte he was pleasantly surprised, it tasted absolutely perfect! He didn't let his surprise show but he made a mental note to ask Stone for lattes more often (if he stuck around, that is), " It's satisfactory, " He said, putting the cup down " You can go home now agent, I don't have any more use for you today. "

Stone internally let out a sigh of relief, " Yes doctor, I'll see you tomorrow, " he walked towards the door " Is there a specific time you'd like me to be here doctor? " He asked.

" 6:00 am, don't be late. "

" Yes doctor. " Stone said quietly before leaving.

And that was it!! Any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! Hope y'all liked it!

#fanfic writing #i love them so much #lgbt #my writing #agent stone #jimbotnik #doctor ivo robotnik #doctor robotnik #stobotnik #wip #new wip #slow burn #ok to rb

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dearosamu · 4 years

Text

DESPERADO - PARADISO

SYPNOSIS: she, a dancer with personified problems all the while more that intrigues osamu dazai who came into her life amidst the chaos that is [name] [last name].

note ; decided to post my dazai fanfic here !! making banners are fun. majority of the chapters are unedited btw.

WARNING/S: mentions of alcohol + consumption of it, implied nsfw (?)

more under the cut. [ will make masterlist soon ]

+ one - two

dazai is a man of many things. he has his needs, sure, as he would being one of the richest business man in yokohama and thanks to his success, a treat were to be served later that friday night.

though he was not familiar with the scene - flashing lights, blasting music from the speakers around and the thick air of intoxication was enough to make you dizzy and swirl around alone without the help of any alchohol.

not that it mattered to him at all, dazai downed the shot, grimacing slightly as the taste of alchohol burned his throat.

being a ceo had its perks with all that money of course, dazai and a few of his acquaintances had the power to afford even the most expensive strip clubs around-- including its dancers, of course.

dazai was a man of mysterious desires. no, he did not like being watched performed nor did he like big crowds. he preferred dances for only himself while he sat on a big arm chair and let his selfish needs be fulfilled by someone that caught his eye and possibly take them for a much more private session.

one of his part-time business partners, sakunosuke oda, introduced him to that club years ago. he was a regular and was always present whenever the brunette was. it was endearing as dazai had always liked his company but it was something he despised yet enjoyed.

"there's a new dancer," oda muttered to dazai as he downed on his second shot of tequila. he turned to face his business partner who had a few buttons missing on his button up shirt and his hair was slightly tousled. he could tell he only came back from a hot make-out session minutes ago.

he let out a short exasperated sigh, "[height], flexible and gorgeous. she might just be your type."

"what's her name?"

"people here call her krystle so i've heard."

"when will she come up?"

"probably the last one."

dazai showed a small closed eyed smile, chuckling. "i'll wait for her then,"

the two sat in comfortable positions as they watched a dark haired woman come up on stage to dance with elegance. it was a sight to see yet she didn't caught dazai's eyes.

albeit the loud music that blared, dazai finds his position calming at the moment. oda's favorite dancer had come up on stage and put on a good show which he finds endearing. it was relaxing to be in a club with your old friends and drink booze like nothing else was wrong in the world.

just then, dazai noticed an unfamiliar mop of [h.c] hair from the corner of his eyes as the [h.c] haired beauty went the backside of the stage for it was her turn.

the brunette, who thought without hesitation, had a feeling that woman was the one oda was talking about. his short description earlier fitted perfectly. beautiful locks of [h.l], [h.c] hair fitted her face perfectly and her legs looked agile and flexible. her looks were a bonus to her other good features- heck, her whole being was eye candy to dazai.

as soon as krystle was announced, the eye-catching woman strutted her hips to the beat of pony by ginuwine without a care of the hungry and lechearous eyes of men that watched her every move. she wore a white vested crop top and very short shorts that matched with black fishnet stockings. she was like a professional.

dazai narrowed his eyes slightly at the woman who now took her time to circle around the pole in the center of the stage, using her body to seduce everyone that watched. oda looked at the brunette with a small smirk, fully-knowing well what his intentions were.

"that's the one, huh?" he breathed.

oda hummed in response and he watched krystle spin around the pole from top to bottom. she may not be his favorite dancer, but she took his breath away. dazai wanted nothing more but go there and claim her already. he licked his lips as his eyes bore into the [h.c] haired beauty's soul. she was perfect.

oda only continued to stare at the back of dazai's head, only thinking of the outcome of what would happen if dazai should ever get his hands on the poor girl. taking another sip, he let out a low whistle as krystle did a split right in front of dazai, showing off some cleavage before she winked at him and stood off like he wasn't her business.

this action only fueled dazai's dark desires even more. how he wanted to take her and make her his, but he had to hold himself back. patience was key.

"i want her."

"are you sure? ango told me she's one of the most expensive ones around," oda looked at dazai bemused. "you outta' be prepared to spend a lot of money on her."

"if that's all it takes, then i will."

oda stared at him with a blank expression. "just so you know, she doesn't do private dances anymore. something about having enough being a hooker? not sure."

dazai's eyes darkened as he stared right back at oda's azure irises. "then i'll make her have one for me. she can't possibly resist."

"or can she?"

dazai pouted slightly, the darkness in his eyes disappearing as he put on another one of his façades. "odasaku! you can't be too sure, you know? i'll let you know, that i have had a lot of women fa-"

"you've already said that the couple times this night." oda cuts him off, making the brunette sulk before returning to krystle who have just finshed her performance and took a bow, turning her back and going backstage.

dazai grinned at oda before standing up and followed the [h.c] haired beauty. oda only sighed at this but quickly lose interest as his most standard favorite came to perform.

dazai went backstage to meet krystle personally before he was stopped by an orange haired male.

"excuse me sir, what's your business here?"

"i want to meet krystle."

"oh, she's a beauty," tanizaki smiled to himself. "for what reasons, mr..?"

"osamu, dazai osamu."

tanizaki stared at the bandaged male with shocked eyes before clearing his throat. he straightened his posture, gulping.

"g-good evening, mr. osamu!"

"no need for formalities. dazai is fine."

tanizaki nodded stiffly before asking, "ehem, i'll repeat.. dazai, for what reasons do you want to meet krystle for?"

"i want a private session with her." dazai replies bluntly, his honey-brown eyes that clouded with hidden lust and need bore into tanizaki's dialated hazel eyes.

"ehm.. i'm sorry, but i can't let you meet her. there are other dancers available for the night."

"i refuse, i only want her." his voice held a stern tone into it as he glared daggers at the now shaking male who only nodded meekly at his request before saying he'll have to wait a few minutes and exited through the door behind him.

dazai impatiently tapped his foot on the ground as he counted off the time and looked at the door with irritation pooling his eyes. before he could touch the handle of the door, it opened to let him see a familiar ginger haired male's head pop out. sapphire irises stared at him blankly before it turned to annoyance and disgust.

"oh..dazai. it's just you," chuuya spoke his name in an annoyed tone before opening the door to let himself out and face the taller male before him. "what do you want now, asshole?"

"i'm here to see krystle."

chuuya blinked once. twice, before snickering, covering his mouth with both hands to stifle his snort. "pft--! a-are you serious? you sure you're not here to meet me?" he showed a small smirk of mockery, hand on his hips as he stared with half-lidded eyes at the bandaged male.

dazai chuckled lowly. "please, if i were here to see you i would've slapped myself silly and think about how much i'd regret it."

"or would you?"

dazai showed him an all too familiar grin which sent a chill down chuuya's spine. "quit your horseplay chuuya, i know your ways."

chuuya clicked his tongue. "and to think i can make fun of you."

"what can i say? you're easy to read." he showed a teasing smile, only agitating the short ginger even further.

"ergh, asshole. to even think that.." he muttered under his breathe before shaking his head and narrowing his eyes at dazai, arms crossed against his chest.

"but for real, are you serious?"

"mhm. would i lie to meet such ethereal beauty?"

"ugh, you make me sick," chuuya stuck out his tongue before continuing. "why though?"

"i want a private session with krystle. do i have to repeat myself again? didn't that carrot head tell you?" dazai referred to tanizaki. he must've only told chuuya to meet him outside. "you mean tanizaki?" chuuya shook his head. "no. but anyways, i can't help you with that you horny bastard. plus, why would you think i'd ever let you touch one of my dancers?"

"i can pay them and if i'm satisfied enough i might just pay you finely as well."

"bullshit."

"what, you think i'd lie when striking a deal?"

chuuya stared at dazai with annoyance, "i've known you long enough to see through your foul play."

"just let me see krystle."

chuuya let out a heavy sigh. "do you ever listen? [name] doesn't do private dances. end of story."

dazai was silent for a moment before digging his hand through his black trench coat, pulling out a stacked brown envelope filled with thousands of yen. he handed it to chuuya who stared at it judgingly, clearly not believing him.

dazai rolled his eyes. "just take the damn envelope,"

chuuya snatched it rather aggressively before he opened it and going through it quickly. his eyes widened a fraction before he looked at dazai bewildered.

"what do you even do, breathe money for a living?"

"i work for it, actually."

"wow, you can actually work?" chuuya mocked before closing his eyes.

"fine, i'll see what i can do. but if she disagrees, i can't do shit for you then."

dazai merely nodded before chuuya walked off. "oh, that money's for krystle by the way!"

"don't need to remind me, asshole!" he heard chuuya holler back.

minutes later he heard distant voices arguing through the door that blocked him from the dressing rooms of the dancers. "look, i don't care alright?! why couldn't you get him to leave??"

"he's a persistent asshole," he heard the annoyed tone of chuuya's voice answer. "he won't leave until he gets what he wants."

he heard the other voice groan before the door was opened harshly in front of him. there stood [name] who wore an angry expression on her pale face.

"so, were you the one who kept requesting to see me?"

"that's right."

she grumbled before she turned to chuuya with a look that screamed 'i hate you.' chuuya only snickered at this.

"listen, i don't think you've heard, but i don't do private dances alright? so you can turn back and play with the other girls." she sassed.

"i'll pay you finely for at least a few minutes, [name]."

"how'd you know my name?" she snapped.

dazai nudged with his head at chuuya who was beside [name]. before [name] could speak, chuuya fled off somewhere else.

"fuck.." she cursed. she looked at the wad of cash she had received from chuuya which came from dazai and bit her lip.

"..alright. one song and that's it okay?"

"fine with me."

she nodded and stuffed the envelope on her garter belt. she beckoned dazai to follow her, leading him to a covered and secluded area, holding up the curtain for him. he went in and sat on the big arm chair that sat in the center of the room.

[name] walked to the stereo that sat still on the high table next to the entrace of the curtain and plugged in her phone for the music. she turned to dazai.

"what's your name?"

"dazai osamu," he replies, crossing his legs. "why?"

"i have one rule to set up and i needed your name so i can file a report if you break it."

dazai stared at her with amusement. "oh really?"

"mhm. my rule is that you are not allowed to touch me. simple as that."

dazai gripped on the comfortable armchair. no touching? it's going to be a hard time for him to hold himself back.

finally picking a song, she pressed play and heard neighbours know my name by trey songz blare slow and catchy beat, setting her phone down and walking to dazai and spreading his crossed legs apart and straddled him. "you know the rules?" she pulled at his black neck tie to pull his face closer to hers.

"of course."

dazai took this time to observe her facial features. perfect face complexion. soft and smooth skin, beautiful plump lips and structured nose. not his to touch.

she pulled away and started off slow, her hips swaying as she dropped to her knees, her hands on his thighs as she looked up between his legs, biting her lip and turned around as she started low, shaking her ass in the most perfect and sexual way she could.

she worked her way up still shaking it like a goddess her [h.l] [h.c] hair still draped over her shoulders bouncing perfectly every time she moved her body to shake it more.

dazai's hand positioned at the arms of the chair as he bit his lip in sight of this woman. she had a high sex appeal and he fancied her over any other dancer here.

she then got up and moved closer with her back still to him as she hovered just about his lap and then started to move her hips and shake her ass again.

dazai started to feel her ass ever so lightly brushing against his half-hard groin. as much as he wanted to deny being hard because of her, he just couldn't. it got even harder for him not to take her then and there.

she faced him and placed her hands on his shoulders, grinding him softly while still moving her body with fluid motions to the beat. she placed one hand on his hair and pulled it, a small smirk on her face.

dazai's neck craned upwards and he felt her long fingernails trail up ever so slightly on his bandaged neck, giving him a tickling sensation. he had to exert self control or else he wouldn't have held himself back.

pulling away again, she turned and her back was facing him and bent down, showing dazai a peek of her black lacey panties underneath her shorts. dazai could feel blood rushing south.

the song ended too soon and she stood up, her posture straight and walked over to the stereo to unplug her phone. dazai stared at her mesmerized before speaking.

"come home with me."

"no."

"why not?"

"i'm not a fucking sex toy who'll suck your dick for a few thousand yen." she crossed her arms against her chest.

"i'm not offering you money, my dear."

"really? then what's in it for me?"

"think i won't make you enjoy it?"

she looked at him with irritation building up. "it's not like i'm telling you that you won't. i'm sure you will," she frowned. "but no, i have my own home to get to and i'm pretty sure you do as well."

"just think about it [name], i'll make you change your mind."

"yeah, sure," she rolled her eyes.

"i have to get going. goodbye, dazai."

dazai couldn't understand. why does she refuse? she was a stubborn one for sure.

he doesn't mind jacking off but it didn't feel quite right for him. groaning loudly, he looked up and closed his eyes, feeling the hot water run down his scarred body. he sighed in content before turning it off and stepping out the bathtub, grabbing a towel and rubbing on his wet brown locks.

he glanced at his phone that was on the sink and took it, going through his contacts and sending a message to his business partner.

'we're going back tomorrow.'

#dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai fic #oh yah this is like #a sugar daddy au #lol #bungou stray dogs #chuuya nakahara #jun'ichirō tanizaki #bungou stray dogs x reader #desperado

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falloutmelody · 4 years

Text

“She’s the prettiest girl at the party, and she can prove it with a solid right hook”- Natasha Romanoff x reader

(GIF IS NOT MINE, FULL CREDIT TO THE PERSON WHO MADE IT!)

WARNINGS: None! This is meant to be set just after the events of the first Avengers but before Winter Soldier bc I felt like it fitted in best then! Also, the reader is supposed to be a sibling of Bruce Banner, as the requester asked for the reader to be a sibling of an Avenger, and I felt like Bruce worked best! This isn’t meant to attack those who ship Nat x Bruce, btw! I had a female reader in mind whilst writing this, but it’s gender neutral, so anyone can enjoy!

REQUESTED BY: anonymous! Thank you for being my second request, I hope you like it! Natasha is my favourite MCU character and has been for years, so I’m very hyped to write for her! Also, repeat it with me, NATASHA DESERVED BETTER THAN WHAT HAPPENED IN ENDGAME.

WORD COUNT: 2005! Again, I had a lot of ideas for this, so I managed to write a lot!

Requests are still 100% open! You can find my fandom list and rules here, and you can request here! Feel free to send me any requests you desire!

It was a cold Tuesday morning. The view out the window before you seem to reflect that fact, as you watched distant, unfamiliar people dashing quickly back and forth several miles below you. You’d observed that SHIELD personnel seemed to always have a strange way of walking with purpose, regardless of what the actual task was, and you weren’t entirely sure if you admired that ability or if it made you uncomfortable. Perhaps it was somewhere in the middle.

What were you doing here? The summoning letter and the person that had driven you over here hadn’t been the most forthcoming with information. Nor had the countless people that had vetted you before you’d been allowed to even set foot inside SHIELD HQ. You supposed you understood the need for security, given what this building was home to, but given how secretive everything was, you didn’t understand why they’d taken the risk in reaching out to you in the first place.

Yes, you missed your brother. Of course you did. Honestly, you couldn’t even remember the last time you saw him, it had been years ago, before everything had gone… wrong. The idea of reuniting with him was the sole reason you’d agreed to go through the solid, stressful months of SHIELD analysis and observation. You just… ugh, you didn’t know. The stress of that moment, and all the emotions you were experiencing in that moment were messing with your brain.

And then, in a single moment, all of your rambling, messy thoughts were silenced.

“Y/N?”

Your head quickly turned in the direction of the voice, your whole body soon following suit. There he was. Slightly dishevelled and tired looking, but still your brother. A warm smile immediately spread across your lips as you met his gaze, however, you fought the urge to run to him as you didn’t want to startle him.

“Hi, Bruce.” You finally responded to his greeting. For a few moments, neither of you seemed to know what to do, as you both stood completely still, awkwardly looking at each other. Eventually, however, you caved in, and made the first move, slowly making your way over to him. Your movements were intentionally slow. You’d lost count of the amount of times that you’d been warned not to emotionally overwhelm your brother, given what often happened when that occurred, you just… you supposed in that moment, you just couldn’t help yourself.

Upon reaching him, you very, very gently embraced him, an action which seemed to catch Bruce off-guard as he didn’t immediately return or reject the gesture. “It’s really good to see you again,” you spoke quietly, not wanting your sibling’s awkward personality to ruin the moment. However, you only allowed the hug to linger for a few moments, soon beginning to slowly pull away. You went to talk as you did so, realising that there was so much that you needed to catch up on.

“So, I’m guessing this is the infamous Y/N?” A female voice caused you to quickly close your mouth and silence yourself, glancing over your shoulder in the direction of the voice. Stood there, a short distance away was a redhaired woman that it took you a few moments to mentally place.

Stood before you was the Black Widow.

You’d watched so many hours of news footage of the battle of New York since it had happened that you were genuinely surprised that it had taken you so long to recognise her. But, being stood there before her in real life, your brain couldn’t help but register just how beautiful she was. You were sure you were far from the first person to have that thought cross your mind, but still, she rendered you momentarily speechless as Natasha slowly made her way closer to both you and Bruce.

You finally regained the ability to snap yourself out of your appreciative thoughts when she got closer to you, forcing yourself to swallow down the nervous lump that had formed in your throat. Thankfully though, Natasha didn’t seem terribly phased by your response, because there was no way that she hadn’t picked up on it. If anything, it was the opposite, as a slightly coy, amused smile momentarily formed on her expression as she soon finally came to a stop, just in front of you. A couple of seconds passed, wherein you frantically tried to find your voice, finally managing to speak up. “U-Uh, yep. That’s me. It’s nice to meet you,” you stumbled over your words somewhat as anxiety once again got the better of you, something that only made the amused smile on Natasha’s expression grow somewhat.

Thankfully, Bruce took this moment to interject, something which caused a soft rush of gratitude to rush through you. “Y/N, this is Natasha. One of my…” Bruce began to talk, but soon trailed off, which you presumed was due to him not knowing what exact label to give the woman. You supposed they were technically colleagues, given that they both worked on the same team, but perhaps your brother was too hesitant to use that label. You had no idea, you weren’t actually in the Avengers, so how were you to know what the dynamic was actually like?

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve seen her on the news,” you softly took over from your sibling. Should you have said that? Would you now come across as creepy? You hadn’t intended it to, you’d just wanted to save your brother from floundering for his words for ages as you had just done.

“Nice to finally put a face to the stories,” Natasha continued, her attention still seemingly being solely on you. Her words took you aback somewhat. Presumably that meant that Bruce had mentioned you at some point in time, but you hadn’t been expecting that. But that was a nice thought, the idea that your brother had continued to mention and think of you, despite how separate you’d become in recent years due to everything that had happened with him. The confusion that had momentarily crossed over your expression at her words earned a small scoff of amusement from Natasha, before she once again continued to speak. “So, let me guess, you’re the knowledgeable type too, huh?” You weren’t entirely sure from her tone if her words were a question or a statement of what her impression of you was from what Bruce had told her, and so, you momentarily stayed silent as you tried to scramble up an answer that wouldn’t make you come across as being either cocky or an idiot.

“Um. Maybe. Kinda depends on your definition of knowledgeable. I know some things. Definitely don’t have seven PhDs though,” you spoke in your best attempt at a playful tone, giving a quick glance back in your brother’s direction to make it clear that was who you were referencing.

Natasha gave a small nod at your response. “I’m sure you’re more intelligent than you make yourself out to be. Fury doesn’t just request for people to be brought in for no reason.” Her oddly motivational words earned a genuine smile from you, as you soon gave a small shrug of your shoulders.

“Well, hopefully, I’ll get a chance to prove you right.” There you go. There was the confidence that you’d been badly looking for throughout this whole conversation. Nice of it to return once you’d gotten towards the end of the conversation, huh?

Once again, a look of amusement formed on the redhead’s expression, that coy smile appearing on her lips for a second time. “Well, I look forward to getting a chance to see that. Now, if you don’t mind, I have places to be.” Of course, you didn’t object to this, even though you did want to continue talking to her. Given what her job was, she probably had something important to be getting on with, something dangerous. Thus, you stayed quiet for a few moments, allowing her to walk around you and make it a few steps down the corridor before you mustered up the courage to call a goodbye after her.

“It was really nice to meet you, Natasha.” Your simple goodbye caused the redhead to briefly stop in her tracks once more, with her soon turning back to look at you. For a brief moment, you could have sworn that a genuine smile with a hint of real warmth formed on Natasha’s expression as she met your gaze.

“You too, Y/N. I’ll see you around,” she returned the farewell, giving a small nod before she turned back around once more and continued to walk off in the direction that she’d been heading in. Then, just as suddenly as she had arrived, she was gone from sight. However, despite her not being physically there, her effect on you didn’t immediately fade. The sound of your heart, which was racing at an absurdly fast rate, continued to echo up into your ears, and you soon anxiously pushed your slightly sweat-dampened hands into your pockets.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” And, just like that, you were once again snapped back into reality by your brother’s voice. Hoping that you hadn’t been staring at the end of the corridor for a creepy amount of time, you soon turned back to face Bruce, giving him a small nod in response to his question.

“Ye…“ You soon cut yourself off, needing a quick moment to clear your throat. “Yeah, yeah! I’m okay. Just a little starstruck, I wasn’t expecting to run into another Avenger today. Am I gonna run into Captain America today too?” Your words were playful, obviously intended to make your attraction to the female not seem obvious. Not that your brother was the type to playfully tease you for having a crush, or at least, he hadn’t been when you’d last seen him, but still. You didn’t want to make things awkward for him by making it clear that you found one of his co-workers attractive. You were supposed to be here to see him after all, that was why you’d agreed to be dragged here.

Bruce’s expression seemed to suggest that he didn’t entirely buy this explanation, as his face briefly scrunched up in confusion, but unsurprisingly, he chose not to question it. Instead, he merely nodded, allowing his expression to somewhat relax. “Okay,” he replied simply, softly smiling at you for a moment. “Um, I’m not busy at the moment, so do you wanna go find a place for us to talk? It’s been a while.” A soft but brief laugh momentarily escaped your lips at that understatement, before you soon nodded in agreement with his idea. You stayed still for a moment, allowing your brother to start walking and thereby lead the way to wherever he wanted to take you. Before you did so, however, you just couldn’t help yourself. You took a quick moment to once again glance back in the direction that Natasha had disappeared into, before quickly turning on your heel and walking quickly in order to catch up with your brother, the SHIELD agent that had been assigned to watch over you that had, until now been stood a short distance away, soon following after the pair of you. That didn’t bother you too much though, you knew they were just doing their job.

As you walked with your sibling, you found yourself hoping that Natasha’s parting words to you would turn out to be accurate. Whilst, of course, you were hoping that this event gave you a chance to properly reconnect with your brother, you couldn’t deny that more than a small part of you was looking forward to possibly getting a chance to see a certain redhaired agent once again, and getting another chance to have a longer conversation with her.

And perhaps, just perhaps, although you didn’t want to get your hopes up, you could possibly one day be friends. Or maybe, if you were extremely lucky, maybe a little bit more than that.

Only time would tell.

AN: And I’m gonna end it there! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! As mentioned above, my requests are still 100% open, so feel free to send me any requests if you have them!

Hope you’re all having a good day, and I’ll see you all next time!

#natsha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #marvel x reader #mcu x reader

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elsaclack · 5 years

Note

for the kiss thing either 12 or 9 (love your writing btw

9. one small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other

12. a hoarse whisper “kiss me”

hmmm once again this is 40,000 years late but honestly i’m glad i waited bc i didn’t have a clue what to do with this combination UNTIL i saw a post the other day talking about jake actually arresting the wrong person (accidentally) and it got me thinking,,,,,since he’s now canonically SO much more thorough when working cases, what would the circumstances be for him to a) do that and b) realize that he did that

so naturally i went full mob boss frames someone they want to get rid of LMAO

(I DON’T REMEMBER WHO WROTE THE POST OR WHO REBLOGGED IT AND I’M SO SORRY ABOUT THAT but if that concept sounds familiar and you know who did write it/if you are the person who wrote it please tell me bc you deserve 99% of the credit here!!!!!!!!!!!)

anyways here’s this i’m sorry it’s late and i’m sorry if it’s more angsty than you were originally hoping it would be but boy howdy this was. A Trip

also @startofamoment i wrote the thing

She can hear him in the bedroom when she gets home later that evening.

He’s crying something hoarse and ragged, something that jars her most basic, primal instincts; so focused on the noise is she that she barely registers the heavy thunk of her purse hitting the ground or the noisy whoosh of her sergeant’s jacket following suit. Their apartment is dark but there’s a soft glow coming from the bedroom doorway; she hurries toward it, kicking her boots off haphazardly as she goes.

“Jake,” she calls before she’s even made it past the threshold.

He’s perched at the foot of their bed, head hanging, back curved inward in the perfect image of defeat. His face is mostly covered from her view by his hands, and his shoulders shudder and heave as the storm within him rages. He makes no immediate acknowledgement of her presence, aside from a strangled moan slightly higher in pitch than the moans before it.

Amy rushes to him, dropping to her knees and scrambling forward until she fits herself into the scant space between his knees. She has a much better view of his ruddy, tear-stained face from here; without a conscious thought, she reaches up to grip his shoulders, his neck, her touch light and warm and soothing.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” she whispers, but his eyes remain closed. Now that she’s in his space she can see and feel just how violently he’s trembling; insistently, she presses her forehead up against his fingers, until he has no choice but to move them so that his forehead is flush against hers. “Sh, honey, it’s okay,” she murmurs, palms skating up his shoulders into the curve of his neck until her thumbs brush against the hinge of his jaw. “It’s okay.”

His hands fall from his face down to his lap, limp and still trembling, but after a moment he blindly reaches for her. His body shudders against a harsh, uneven inhale just as his fingers curl around the curve of her waist, and she keeps a steady stream of whispered reassurances going until she feels him stop trembling.

Slowly, his bloodshot, swollen eyes flutter open; she kisses the end of his nose to hide her pitying smile.

Pity is the last thing he needs.

“I fucked up,” he mumbles. “Majorly.”

Every instinct in her body wants to argue with him, but she bites her tongue and gently scratches at the back of his neck. “You followed the evidence,” she reminds him softly.

“The wrong evidence,” his voice is sharp and unfamiliar; she ignores the urge to flinch. “I fell right into the stupid trap like an idiot and - and -”

“You are not an idiot,” she admonishes, careful to keep her voice low despite the passion leaking into her words. “Literally any of us would have drawn the same conclusion -”

“But I’m the one who actually did.” he interrupts again, and the muscles in his neck are tense and straining beneath her fingertips. Slowly, she lowers herself until they’re able to meet each other’s gazes, and though his eyes are still brimming with tears, the rage there is unmistakable. “I’m the one who made the call and put in the arrest report - not just any of us. Me.”

“St. Clair and his mob have been terrorizing New York for thirty years - he’s beyond a career criminal, Jake, he’s an actual bonafide criminal mastermind. I guarantee that wasn’t the first time he’s framed someone for a crime they didn’t commit. What matters is that you figured it out. You knew something felt wrong and you trusted your instincts despite Holt and Terry and every other person involved in the case telling you that you were just being obsessive, and you got him. You got the right person, who happens to be a huge criminal the NYPD has been chasing for years, and you saved the innocent man he framed.”

“Saved him from spending the rest of his life in the prison I put him in,” he mutters, though with far less conviction than before. “I just - I’m so angry at myself.”

“I know you are,” Amy whispers around the painful knot of emotion in her throat. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now. But please, please try to remember the way you felt about the officers who arrested you that day at the bank. You didn’t blame them, did you?”

He studies her face for a moment before answering. “No.”

“And us, the squad - did you blame us for not being there?”

“No.”

“Who did you blame?”

His gaze drops to his knees. “Hawkins,” he says after a moment.

“Exactly. You blamed the person who framed you, because she’s the one who tried to ruin your life to begin with. No one blames you for this, Jake. Especially since you’re the one who figured out it was a frame job two days after the case officially ended.”

Tears are springing up in his eyes again - though she suspects they’re far less angry than before.

“You are a excellent detective and an amazing person, babe,” she murmurs, framing his face between both of her hands before pressing her forehead against his again. “Richard Smith is lucky to have had you involved in this case - no one else would have thought to question the legitimacy of the paperwork on the bank accounts the vic’s money was drained to, no one else would have dug as intensely as you dug. You’re a good man,” she says slowly, “and I am so, so glad that you’re the one I get to spend the rest of my life with. I love you so much, Jake, more than anything in the world.”

His breathing has gone more shallow, tears beginning to drip down his face. “Kiss me,” he says hoarsely.

She hesitates for all of one moment before angling her head down and pressing a soft, chaste kiss against his lips. His hands are far more abrasive than before when he reaches round to pull her closer; she pulls away abruptly, gasping into his mouth, and then he’s yanking her closer, all but devouring her.

He kisses her hungrily, hands rough and restless where they roam the expanse of her back and tangle in her hair. He hums something high-pitched, almost absently, edging closer to the end of the bed and trapping her in place with his knees. She slings an arm around his neck for balance and cups the side of his face with her free hand, letting him take what he needs but still grounding him to reality with her thumb softly caressing his cheekbone.

It takes a long moment, but eventually he seems to come back to himself; his kisses soften and slow, like all the tension of the day behind him has finally leaked out of him. She keeps her hand on his face even after their lips part, thumb stroking steadily as he shudders and leans forward, past her face, head nestling comfortably into the crook of her neck.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“For what?”

“I don’t know.”

“Me either.”

“Sometimes I just - I still can’t believe that this is real, y’know? Like - like you’ll wake up one day and realize you’ve made a horrible mistake with me -”

“Being with you is the single best decision I’ve ever made in my life,” she interrupts. “From the moment we first kissed in the evidence lockup, all you’ve done is prove to me how good and right and perfect you are for me. Time and time again, you’ve shown me how much you love me, how much you care about me, all the things you’d rather not do, but do anyways for me. You’ve brought so much joy and happiness and laughter into my life, you’ve made everything brighter and better. For all the anxiety and doubt and confusion I deal with on a daily basis, I need you to really hear me when I say that this - you and me? It’s the only thing I’ve never once doubted. You’re my orangina, Jake. You always have been, and you always will be, no matter what life throws at us.”

She feels the muscles in his jaw clench against her shoulder and he nestles closer, his arms around her waist cinching tighter. “I love you so much,” he whispers, sounding dangerously close to tears once again.

“I love you, too,” she whispers, finally moving her hand on his face up to gently card her fingers through his hair. “And I know you haven’t eaten in two days, so I called Sal’s on my way home from work. The delivery guy should be here in less than ten minutes.”

He releases a strangled groan, squeezing her so hard she can’t draw a breath for a moment. “You’re the best person I know,” he breathes.

She smiles and turns her head to press a kiss to the crown of his head. “And you’re the best person I know,” she murmurs into his hair.

And she means with with every fiber of her being - just as she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he does, too.

#brooklyn nine nine fanfiction #brooklyn 99 fanfiction #peraltiago fanfiction #jake peralta #amy santiago #my b99 fics #b99 #jake x amy #merp guess who didn't proofread #hope there are no glaring mistakes lmfao #Anonymous

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namjooncharms · 5 years

Text

Deals with a Demon (1)

demon!jungkook x reader

( also another supernatural!bts, they’re all different species in this one! )

Part 2,

description: all children believe in fairytales until they are proven wrong and demons do not fall in love. yet this one is fated and punished to do exactly that.

i do take requests btw!<3 so send me some in

warnings: illness, mentions of death, future smut

okay i know i’m basing these off my fave shows but still. it’s based off a korean odessey.

at nine years old you were seeing the world through rose coloured glasses, well almost. your life wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t exactly the worst either. you had your full life ahead of you. that was until you got sick, your small frail body is laying on the hospital bed. fast asleep. the demon lowers his face close to yours, you are so close to death. a smirk has formed on his lips, your little eyes flutter open and he doesn’t expect you to see him but your eyes land on his face. when the demon has realised you’re staring at him he stands away from you, confused. how do you see him? is it because you’re dying?

“hello.” you say softly, your voice cracking when you do. your voice is so small and crackily that the demon almost misses it. offering a smile back to you he perched down next to your bed. the demon isn’t particularly sure what he’s even doing in here, he sometimes finds himself watching people, uninterested but interested all at the same time. but there was something about this room, and your soul. it was like the sun, shining brightly, but the demon jacked that up to your soul getting ready to leave, he’d never witnessed such a thing before.

“hello, little one.” his voice crawls out and he leaned against the railings of the bed. you’re so close to death that he can smell it. the smell is intoxicating.

you try and angle yourself so that you can look at his face, he looks so much like an angel. even in your bleary state of mind. you smile again at him and he smiled back so you ask the question. “are you my angel?” you asked him and he laughed.

“not quite little one.” the demon says. “maybe i’ll explain to you one day.”

maybe you’re young brain has formed up an imaginary friend, one that nobody else can see because any nurse that seemed to enter the room really doesn’t take much notice of him. he talked half the night with you, a boost of energy coming to you and you weakly push yourself up.

“what is your name?” you asked him.

“jeon jungkook.” he may as well tell you, you wouldn’t remember it anyway.

“jeon jungkook.” your little voice repeats it and you smile again.

“what’s your name little one?” he asked.

“Y/N Y/L/N “ you say and you’re quiet for a moment. “can i ask you a favour jeon jungkook?” you ask him.

his brows twitched and he almost frowned. he didn’t do deals or favours with humans he wasn’t one of those deal making demons, plus it was against the rules. he never had. but he supposed, you’d be dead soon, so what would it matter?

“what can i do for you?” he asked.

“can you protect me from the monsters and stop me from dying?” you asked quietly.

monsters? what monsters? the only monster in here was him. the demon smiled. he couldn’t do that, people died all the time. and you were close. “of course.” so he holds out his hand offering it to you his pinkie outstretched. your small hand has lifted and you curled your small pinkie around his. it would be harmless wouldn’t it?

“is it a deal?” you asked yawning, ready for sleep, which the demon took as something else.

“it’s a deal.” he smirked.

over fourteen years later you still every now and then thought of your angel, the one who had saved your life. and you’re getting on with your life. that whole night had just been a dream as far as you were concerned. after turning twelve your family moved to Australia where you lived until you turned you were old enough to move out on your own and when you did you managed to secure a job in Seoul. You’d only been there about a week. you’re not new to the culture and the language you‘ve been studying since you were small.

but working at this place called big hit seemed like the perfect scape goat to get out of home and live by yourself. you were happy when the job was offered to you more or less on a plate and you weren’t sure why but you weren’t complaining. you just needed a new life, one that was your own. you loved your parents, you really did but, it didn’t mean you wanted to be stuck under their over protectiveness forever. you fix the bottom of your dress as you walk through the unfamiliar building, having gotten a job as a.. now that you think about it, you don’t know what the job is.

you frown at the thought as you walk through the doors of big hit entertainment and looked around almost immediately, a woman stands in front of you. “ miss Y/LN ?” she asked and you offer her a small smile and a nod. “ right this way, miss. “ she gestured where you had to go and you followed, your heels clicking off the floor, they made you so uncomfortable but you wanted to impress at least someone. the woman opened the door and you walked through looking around, your eyes falling on the man in the suit who stands up, bang pd nim as you knew him as anyway. “ahh, miss Y/L/N.” he smiled walking over holding his hand out.

his hand is larger around yours but you smile brightly shaking it with a strong grasp. “nice to meet you too, sir.” you speak and you look around. he offered to take you a tour of the building and you gladly agree you wish to see where you’d be working from now on and bang pd nim would be more than happy to show you.

you’re walking around for about half an hour when he takes you to get a coffee, explaining your job, which is basically an assistant to him, helping him with the band known as bts. when asked if you knew anything about them you sheepishly admitted that you didn’t. you’d expected a different reaction from the laugh you’d gotten but being sheltered your whole life meant that you didn’t really know much about anything, but it wouldn’t take long to find out.

unaware of the six pair of eyes on you, bang pd nim hands you the mug of coffee and you hold it in your freezing cold hands. one set of eyes is missing, and he’s yet to show his face. “the demon better hurry his ass up.” namjoon grunted under his breath. the eldest looked towards him. “he’s coming. i can hear him.” only gaining another grunt from the leader, the vampire next to him shakes his head and they all look back to you. you’re like a beacon of light. like the sun. glowing, brightly for all to see.

it’s when he appears that namjoon growls an insult at him, only for the demon to snarl back in response. despite all being different and in no way connected, they all worked well, and most of the time got along well. keeping up appearances was sometimes difficult but they got on with it. “what exactly are we here for again?” the demon scowled, sure yes it was a day off but this was important apparently jimin pointed “ the new assistant. that’s what we’ve been called here for.”

sighing, another dumb fucking human assistant that would either be a plaything for one of the elder boys or be fired in two weeks for doing something stupid. “her.” taehyung pointed in the direction to show the demon, jungkook turned with a scowl to finally look at you, his doe looking eyes have widened and it’s like he’s frozen. he recognises your soul almost instantly bright, shining as clear as day. “tfuck..” is what he hears but doesn’t realise he’s said it just as you and bang pd nim have turned, the older man is pointing towards them, because he wanted you to meet them. you’re smiling, and he realises that you are you, still shining as brightly as you were the night he fucked everything up for himself.

“ah, the boys.” bang pd nim started and you turn to look but your heart stops. and every member notice the way you and jungkook are looking at each other. seokjin can hear your heart pounding wildy now and he glances at jungkook. you’re so startled at the sight of him that the cup of hot steaming coffee slips from your hands the mug immediately shattering and the hot liquid has not only splashed onto your bare thighs but has burned your hand from slipping out of your grasp. everything has fallen silent and you’re first to break the eye contact because you think you’re going crazy. you had imagined him.

“i’m so sorry.” your voice rushed out and bang pd nim shakes his head helping you calling to the boys to get something to clean up. you’ve picked up all the shattered pieces except one and a hand throws itself outward to pick it up just as you have and your hands meet in the centre. an electric shock vibrates up your hand and you pull away with a flinch, the larger hand still there and you look up, eyes meeting those doe ones that you had never forgotton about.

“move over.” yoongi has gently moved beside the demon who’s still beside you, to help clean up the coffee. bang pd nim has had someone else take the remains of the mug away and you stand up just as jungkook does both still staring at each other and you only look away when pd nim speaks. “i thought you didn’t know anything of bts?” he asked and you smile, a tight lipped smile. “i don’t.” he laughed at that and shook his head. “the boys, miss Y/L/N.” and he pointed. “this is their leader.”

you look towards him and he holds out his hand. “kim namjoon.” he smiled slightly, and you’re instantly taken with his dimples, you’ve never seen such a thing, you nod, looking from him to to kim seokjin, then min yoongi, park jimin, kim taehyung and jung hoseok, lastly him. the angel. your angel.

he, despite wanting to disappear holds his hand out to you, which you take hesitantly, waiting. if he says the name you’ve thought about for years then you just might die. you wait, fingers lightly pressed against his hand and he says it. feeling lightheaded as you wait while holding your breath because you might pass out.his voice is almost like velvet but that’s not what gets you, it’s the name.

“jeon jungkook.”

#jungkook x reader #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts au #jungkook imagine #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #dwad #dwad1

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fullmetalscullyy · 5 years

Note

Hey! I was wondering if you're taking requests? If you are do you think maybe you could do a royai fic where Roy gets injured badly and its partially Riza's fault? Like she rushed in or something? If not I understand ❤️ keep up the good work btw I love your writing 💕

i’m so touched by your ask and request anon

i hope you enjoy this!!! ahhh and i hope this is what you were lookingfor as well

if you (or anyone) has anyrequests, feel free to send them my way! i’m off multi chapter fics for a whileas i want to explore other story lines in oneshots and drabbles so i’ll alwaysbe looking for prompts!

thanks again!!!!

He had to move. He had to get there now. If he didn’t, Hawkeye and Havoc’s lives could be in danger.

Move, move, move! Hisfeet pounded the pavement to the beat of that word in his head.

They had been pursuing an arm’s dealer for a few weeks and Royhad dispersed the team to search different areas of the city where they couldbe holed up. Hawkeye and Havoc had been assigned as a team, dispatched to thewarehouse district. Breda and Fuery were sent west but were now hightailing it tothe warehouse district. Roy had held back at the office because Fuery informedhim Falman had been trying to contact him. However, apparently there had been abad storm near Briggs and communication lines were down for an hour beforeFalman could get through.

It was Falman himself who explained the situation to Roy. Itappeared Briggs had finally caughtwind of the possibility of their cover being blown and his former comradedesperately detailed what would happen should the team blow Cole’s cover. It only took them three weeks to realise,Roy growled to himself. How is themilitary this incompetent? Sending itsown soldiers to pursue each other.

“It was need to know only, Brigadier General, sir,” Falmanelaborated in a hushed tone. Even though the worst of the storm had passed, theline still crackled with interference. “And once I caught wind of what washappening, I couldn’t leave you in the dark.”

“I appreciate that, Falman,” Roy replied gratefully, hismind elsewhere and running a mile a minute, trying to figure out how to alertthe team to back off immediately.“Thank you.”

“I won’t keep you sir, I know you have work to do,” Falmanstated, tone changing, voice rising in volume. Someone was nearby and possiblylistening in.

“Thank you, Falman. I’ll be in touch.”

“Sir.”

The warehouse came into view at the end of the street Royjust turned onto. The nondescript beige building didn’t look like it washousing an undercover operation, however that was the whole point. Apparently, OliviaCole, their target, had been meeting here with the Drachmans, so even her baseof operations needed to look convincing. The paperwork there alone wouldincriminate the Lieutenant to Hawkeye and Havoc.

Only Olivia Cole wasn’t an arm’s dealer. Second LieutenantCole was in fact in the middle of an undercover operation from Briggs to locatethe real arm’s dealer who was smugglingDrachman weapons into Amestris. She had worked with the real Drachmans, but hadyet to discover the mysterious identity of the ring leader. This warehouse waswhere Cole and her new “friends” were located. If Hawkeye or Havoc shot Colethen there could be severe consequences. Hawkeye would follow her gut and ifeven the slightest thing appeared off about the Briggs’ soldier, or if any ofthe other men tried anything, she would shoot to incapacitate her, leaving theundercover operation blown wide open, giving the real target a chance atescape.

General Armstrong had a soft spot for Hawkeye, however thisoperation was top priority, Falman explained, and probably wouldn’t hesitate toberate and possibly court martial anyone who disrupted this for the Briggs’soldier.

That’s why Roy needed to get there before it all went tohell.

The door had been propped open with a piece of metal piping.Roy eased himself in carefully, wary of not putting too much pressure on themetal as he eyed the rusty hinges, daring them to make a sound to announce hispresence.

“Get down,” Hawkeye commanded, and Roy heard a gun cockingas he entered the main room.

“You don’t want to do this,” an unfamiliar female voice toldthem sternly. Lieutenant Cole. He edged further into the room, weaving in andout of the maze of crates which probably housed “weapons”. Props. The only realweapons in here would be the ones Cole had obtained from the real arm’s dealer.

Roy crouched behind a crate, eyes peeking over the top as hetook in the scene before him. Lieutenant Cole was on her knees, hands behindher head, gaze defiantly staring back at Hawkeye and Havoc. Both his soldiershad their guns trained on the Lieutenant. Other men were beside Cole, the realDrachmans, each with a face of thunder. His Lieutenants had done a grand jobgetting them all on their knees and surrendered, however this wasn’t good.

Shit. Hawkeye’sfinger repositioned on the trigger.

He could snap. He could activate his array and use theflames to push them back from Cole, but there was no knowing how much gunpowderwas in these crates. If Roy did that, the explosion could be catastrophic.

Think Roy, think!

“I would reconsider, Lieutenant Hawkeye,” Cole tried onefinal time, her face twisting into an angry snarl. Roy’s gaze snapped betweenthe “arm’s dealer”, her men, and Hawkeye, who was a second away from pullingthe trigger. Cole stared right back at Hawkeye, eyes dangerous. She lookedevery bit the part of a Drachman spy, and sounded like it too, her accentthick. Falman wasn’t joking when he said this was a serious operation. Colewasn’t budging in her resolve or tempted to reveal anything despite the factshe might very well be incapacitated there and then.

Cole’s hands begun to move from behind her head and that waswhen Roy begun to move. He vaulted over the crate with ease, breaking into asprint towards the standoff happening only a few metres away. He knew he onlyhad a matter of time, because he knew Hawkeye had already made her decision. Assoon as Cole’s hands moved, Hawkeye’s expression turned neutral and her fingerbegun to depress the trigger.

It was stupid, it was reckless, but if it saved Hawkeye’slife, and her career, Roy would do it. He always would. Cole’s “men” begun toshift too, hands reaching for hidden weapons.

This was the only way Roy could think of to stop Cole fromgetting hurt, and therefore ending the Briggs’ operation. It would give themthe element of surprise as well. A Lieutenant shooting one of her own wouldcause enough confusion that it may just stun Cole’s “comrades” to prevent them fromshooting.

Havoc noticed Roy running at them in a full sprint, and so didthe Drachmans. Havoc’s lips parted in surprise, realisation dawning on him thatsomething was very wrong. TheDrachmans looked confused, faces twisting in anger as they spotted anotherAmestrian soldier. Roy heard Havoc say something, but his entire focus was onreaching Hawkeye before that bullet left the chamber.

Roy didn’t even hear the gunshot. He just kept running.There were two shouts, one from Cole and one from Havoc, as Roy felt his bodyjerk. Hid right shoulder twisted painfully from the force of the bullet,spinning him around to face Hawkeye. He saw her face as he fell to the ground,mouth parted in shock, expression horrified. Roy crashed painfully onto hisside, his brain finally catching up with what his body was feeling. He gasped,pain exploding throughout his entire body.

His right shoulder burned intensely. It was almost as bad aswhen he had sealed his wound closed two years ago. There was a wetnessspreading across it and down his arm. His left shoulder, that had hit theground, ached and he was sure something had crunchedinside as he fell. Roy felt pain in his hip too, which had also contacted theground roughly.

“Shit! Boss!” Feet pounded the concrete below him as theDrachmans fled, obviously noticing who exactly it was bleeding out in front ofthem.

Havoc rolled him over onto his back and Roy groaned as hemoved. It was too much. Spots danced in his vision, the edges greying as thepain become too much for him. However, he still had a job to do. He had toprotect his subordinates. He was partly responsible for this mess and it was upto him to sort it out.

“Don’t,” Roy managed to get out. “Don’t… shoot her.” Hishead rolled to his right, seeing Cole blinking at him in surprise. She wasfrozen in place, hands poised above her head, the other men long gone. Why shehad decided to provoke Hawkeye and Havoc, Roy didn’t know, but it pissed himoff. Surely the solider – a Briggs’soldier – knew the implications of moving from a position of surrender likethat while under scrutiny at gunpoint.

Another wave of pain washed over his body as Havoc putpressure on his wounded shoulder.

“Sorry, Boss,” Havoc muttered.

The question regarding Cole was for another time.

“Shit! Hawkeye!” Havoc barked, head snapping up. “Phone anambulance! Now!”

Roy’s head rolled back to his left, gaze lazily movingtowards Hawkeye. The look on her face made fear coiling in his own stomach. Shewas pale, so pale. Her eyes were widewith terror, the gun barely being held in her grip anymore as she stared backat her superior.

Surely the implication of what she had just done was weighingon her mind. That thought would have made his stomach clench if he were not sofocussed on his fading vision.

Roy had known this was what he was stepping into when he ranfrom behind that crate. Taking that bullet and saving Cole’s life meantscrutiny wouldn’t fall on Hawkeye and Havoc. By taking out Cole, Hawkeye wouldbe ending the Briggs’ operation. If anything, Roy would be the one underscrutiny for sending his team into this mission, which ultimately ended in himbeing shot. However, he could play the card that he was unaware of thesituation and was only following orders. So were Hawkeye and Havoc, howeverthey were “less valuable” to the military – a thought that made his blood boil –so wouldn’t be exempt from punishment. A Brigadier General diving in front of abullet for his fellow soldier would add enough heroism that it may just getthem out of this messy situation unscathed.

Plus, they could play it off as the criminals who begun theshootout. It wasn’t right, but until Cole’s operation ended, that was what themilitary would be led to believe.

This would just leave him with a hell of a set ofconsequences to deal with personally, rather than professionally. He’d takethat and protect Hawkeye any day.

“Hawkeye!” Havoc called desperately. The former had yet tomove from the spot, her hands trembling, the gun shaking in her loose grasp. Itclattered to the floor. Roy heard movement and Cole spoke quietly and urgently,her accent gone, giving her identity to an operator and calling for anambulance.

Wave after wave of pain engulfed Roy and he didn’t last muchlonger under consciousness. He was feeling lightheaded, the roof above himspinning sickeningly. He was losing blood and judging by the pulse he couldfeel in his injured shoulder, it was a lot.

No sound came out when Roy opened his mouth, trying to speakto his subordinates. It was too much of an effort to move his head one finaltime, so he tried to convey to Hawkeye what he wanted his say just though hiseyes.

I’ll be fine.

Please, don’t be mad.

Don’t blame yourself.

The ceiling finally dimmed, his eyes closing as he heard avery distraught and choked yell. Riza was yelling his name…

* * *

What did you do?

Riza barely felt the blanket Havoc had draped over hershoulders. She sat with her elbows resting on her knees, hands clasped in frontof her, head bowed in shame, anguish, pain, you name it.

You shot him.

Riza shuddered, taking a shaky breath. Her hands gripped oneanother even tighter as she tried to control the shaking in her body, herknuckles white.

You fucking shot him.

There was a pressure on her back, and she jerked. Havoc hadtaken up a spot next to her on the uncomfortable hospital chairs. His hand rubbedlazy circles on her back in an attempt at comfort and to soothe her, but Riza’smind was in too much turmoil.

She had shot her superior officer.

She had shot Roy.

The ever-present urge to vomit creeped its way back up herthroat.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Havoc reminded her for what feltlike the hundredth time. “He dove in front of that bullet to protect Cole.”

“Why,” she whispered.

Havoc shrugged. They had only recently been filled in on thesituation by Fuhrer Grumman, who stopped by a short while ago to see how theBrigadier General was doing. “The doctors are doing their best for BrigadierGeneral Mustang now,” was all they were told. That bile crept higher and higherevery time that explanation floated through her head.

If he dies… Because of you…

Riza thought her fingers might break if she gripped them anytighter.

Havoc sighed, gently prying her hands apart and taking themin his. “Hawkeye? Look at me.” It took her a while, but she finally did.Havoc’s eyes were understanding, and sympathetic, but there was a certainty inthem. “This was not your fault. Hechose to dive in front of that bullet. Mustang chose to do that. You were only doing your job, and this was anunfortunate result of Mustang’s rash decision.” Havoc huffed a laugh. “You knowhow he is. Especially when it comes to us. To you.”

Riza stiffened in her chair as Havoc gave her hands a quicksqueeze. He stood from the chair, fingers diving into his trouser pockets topull out a packet of cigarettes. He appeared to be calm, but Riza recognisedthe signs of stress. His face was pulled tight, his movements stiff as hewalked to greet Breda. Havoc’s tone was strained as they conversed quietly, tooquietly for Riza to make out what was being said. Before she knew it, Breda satdown in the chair Havoc had just vacated.

“He’s a dumbass,” Breda remarked quietly with a humourlesschuckle. “I can’t believe he did that. Well, I can absolutely believe why.” Breda shook his head. “To protect her and Havoc”, apparently. Rizashuddered, picturing Mustang’s face as he was hit, body jerking and spinning towardsher, eyes wide with shock, expression twisting with pain.

And she had just stoodthere and done nothing as Havoc yelled at her to phone an ambulance. It hadbeen their so-called “arm’s dealer” that had saved his life and protected him.

Not her, Mustang’s bodyguard.

You’re useless.

Lieutenant Cole fled the scene after placing the call, justas Breda and Fuery arrived. The MPs and the ambulance were only a few minutesout as the other two team members took in the picture before them, Mustang bleedingout on the floor and Havoc yelling for help. Riza had just stood there, bodyshaking uncontrollably. Fuery wrapped an arm around her shoulders in comfort,trying to soothe her, but she heard the way his voice shook in fear at seeingtheir strong, caring, and fearless leader dying on the floor.

Breda disappeared and when the MPs entered with their gunsdrawn Riza thought they were there to arrest her. Something coiled within herthen, her fight or flight instinct kicking in.

“Where is the shooter?” one barked, eyeing the crates that couldhave been hiding an assailant. Riza tensed.

“They fled out the back,” Breda barked, pointing in the oppositedirection Cole left in. “We arrived just to see them shoot at Mustang and then escape.Lieutenants Havoc and Hawkeye were here when it happened.”

The MP’s gaze snapped to them both. “Did you see them?”

Havoc had always been quick to think on his feet. He backed awayfrom Mustang as the paramedics loaded him onto a stretcher and placed an oxygenmask over his mouth. Riza noted Havoc’s hands were bloody. You caused this. He nodded. “I saw them. I saw them shoot theBrigadier General,” he snarled. Riza thought his anger was targeted towardsher.

“It was the situation,” he had explained quietly as Breda drovethem to the hospital behind the ambulance. “I wasn’t angry at you.” His fistsclenched atop his knees. “If anything, I’m angry at Mustang. He chose to dothis to us without warming. And, we were left in the fucking dark by General Armstrongand Fuhrer Grumman and he had to pay for it. So, did you.”

“Hawkeye?” Breda called to her, giving her shoulder a shake.She was roughly thrown back into the present where the never-ending ache thatthrobbed throughout her whole body came crashing back into her consciousness. Theshaking had almost stopped, but her mind was still punishing her severely. “Youwith me?”

She released a shaky breath and nodded, unable to speak.

“Shit,” Breda murmured. His head snapped up, looking downthe hall. Riza’s head slowly moved to look as well, seeing MPs approachingthem. If she moved any faster, she thought she might snap and break in two, that’show tightly she was wound.

Riza really wasn’t in the mood to talk to them right now.

You’d have to tellthem you fucking shot him.

“Lieutenant Hawkeye, we would like to ask you –” She shuther eyes, blocking out their voices.

“Lieutenant Hawkeye is in shock at the minute. The shooters targetedher before ultimately hitting the Brigadier General,” Breda lied smoothly. Riza’seyes popped open in surprise. “I witnessed the attack and can answer anyquestions you may have.”

Riza watched as the MP’s lips pursed, clearly unhappy, butnodded in agreement. “Right this way, Second Lieutenant Breda.”

* * *

As Roy opened his eyes, he heard someone in the room gaspquietly. Groggily, he blinked, his eyelids taking a while to respond to hisbrain’s request. The harsh, white light blinded him, and, in that moment,everything came rushing back. The warehouse. Cole and Hawkeye. The bulletentering his shoulder.

Hawkeye’s horrified expression.

His head lolled, rolling to face the direction he heard thegasp from. Hawkeye sat by his bedside, posture stiff and expression stricken.Her eyes betrayed her true feelings. Terror, shame, concern… They were allthere.

“Lieutenant?” Roy croaked. The pain that had been a dullreminder in his shoulder flared suddenly and he hissed in pain, closing hiseyes. He never saw Riza’s pained expression. “Are you okay? Where is Cole?” Therewas a pause, so Roy opened his eyes again, teeth gritted against the pain. Hefroze when he saw Riza’s expression.

“Fled the scene, sir,” she replied. It was barely perceptible,but Roy heard the wobble as she said “sir”.

She thought this washer fault. That much was obvious, and, of course, Hawkeye would think that.He had chosen to do it, to protecther and Havoc. It was dumb and ridiculously reckless, but it saved them a worldof trouble.

“Good. And you? Lieutenant Havoc?”

“All right, sir. Fuhrer Grumman filled us in on the…situation.”

He breathed a sight of relief. “Good.” They were safe. “I must apologise, Lieutenant. I acted withoutthinking and you paid the price for it. I’m so sorry.” His earnest eyes methers, which were grief stricken. She nodded, but the action was stiff.

“Understood, sir,” she replied sharply. His gaze flickeddown as he noticed movement. Her hands were atop her thighs, fingers digginginto the fabric of her trousers. They were white with the force of it as shetried not to break apart.

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for this,” Roy added, tonedisapproving. “I chose to do this of my own free will.”

“Why?” she finally choked out, that one syllable telling Royall he needed to know. She was hurt as to why he decided to throw himself infront of her gun and desperate for an explanation.

“To save you.” Hawkeye blinked back at him in surprise. “Colewas part of an undercover operation, as you now know. If you had shot her, the wholething would be blown open and you may have been court martialled by Briggs forinterfering with the mission. The fact you weren’t aware of it would beoverlooked if Cole died. And I know you never miss.

“Plus, with the other Drachmans present we could play it offas a shoot out that ended unfortunately for me.”

“Sir, I…”

“Yes, Lieutenant?” She was obviously struggling, and Roy’svoice softened. “You’ve never held back before, Riza.” Her gaze snapped up tohis at the use of her first name. “Don’t hold back now.”

“I shot you,” shelet out in a rush.

“You didn’t,” he replied patiently. “I moved in front ofthat bullet.”

“It was because of me thatyou were shot,” she tried again, voice rising in volume.

“Riza,” Roy replied slowly and carefully, his tonesuggesting she should calm down and think.He wasn’t sure how long he had been out for, but he knew for a fact that Hawkeyewould have been blaming herself this whole time. “I chose this. Not you.”

Suddenly, her hands gripped his good arm tightly. They werecold against his skin, a momentarily uncomfortable sensation, then he felthimself relax at her touch, as he had done so many times before.

Hawkeye took a moment to compose herself, eyes closingbriefly. Roy watched with fascination, but hating how he had done this to her, knowinghe would do it again in a heartbeat if it protected her. The niggling sensationin the back of his mind, reminding him this was just another thing to add tohis “The Ways You Have Hurt Hawkeye” list, never went away though.

“I shot you,” she repeated. Just from her tone Roy knew thishad been repeated in her head over and over. “Something I promised I wouldnever do.” At his confused expression, Hawkeye elaborated. “Never without clearintent.” She took a deep breath. “I swore an oath to protect you from harm, andI take that very seriously, sir –”

“Riza, please,” he begged her. They were so beyond superiorand subordinate right now.

“And I wasn’t able to protect you from myself,” shecontinued, too lost in her own self-destructive thoughts to hear him. “I’museless.”

Roy gripped her hand tightly. “Don’t you ever say that.” His dark eyes piercedhers, daring her to challenge him. “Iwas the useless one. I didn’t figureout what was going on until the last second. I sent the whole team out to findCole, and it was Falman who informed me of the operation, at great risk tohimself.”

“Falman told you?” Hawkeye asked, momentarily distracted.

“Yes. He called before I left HQ. I would have reached youall sooner but there was a storm that cut the communication lines with Briggs.I was almost too late.”

“Why… You jumped in front of the bullet,” Hawkeye muttered.This was something she was struggling to wrap her head around and, to beperfectly honest, Roy was still baffled as to how his brain decided that wasthe best course of action. All it had taken was seeing Hawkeye being dismissedfrom the military, demoted, taken from his side, and he knew he had to so something,anything, to protect Cole and her operation.

“Because I knew it would give us the advantage, the elementof surprise. I don’t enjoy being hurt, contrary to popular belief at this point,”he joked, pleased when he saw one corner of Hawkeye’s mouth quirk upwards to asmile, then it was gone. “But if Cole was injured and I had to call it in usingher identification, and the Drachmans overheard, the real target would catchwind of it and flee, blowing her cover and all she had worked towards.”

Hawkeye nodded as she processed the information, posture slowlyrelaxing. They weren’t out of the woods just yet. It would take her a long timeto come to terms with what happened today, but so long as she understood he didthis of his own volition, that was all that mattered right now. Yes, she hadshot him, but he put himself in front of that bullet to protect Cole and,ultimately, Hawkeye. He couldn’t take her being removed from his team again. Rizathought she was useless, but it was hewho was the useless one without her. Without Riza Hawkeye his whole team wouldfall apart, him included. She was the glue that held them all together, nodoubt about it. Roy was sure the whole team would agree on that one.

He couldn’t take her being court martialled either. Whetherit would have come to that or not, Roy wasn’t sure. He was glad he would neverhave the opportunity to find out because he couldn’t lose the woman he lovedlike that.

“Just… Promise me one thing?” Hawkeye asked.

“Anything.”

“Please try to be less dramatic, sir,” Hawkeye replied, eyesbecoming sad once more, the grip on his hand tightening. “No more jumping infront of bullets.”

“Who is the one giving orders here?” he quipped, raising aneyebrow in amusement. He chuckled at her stern glare, giving her hand asqueeze. “I will,” Roy promised. “For you.”

“Thank you… Roy.”

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #royai oneshot #ask #anon #this turned into 4.3k words #ekjnbewkjbn #somebody stop me #but dont actually #emma writes #writing prompts #fic request

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flyswhumpcenter · 5 years

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Nurse Café - Chapter 1/6: “You’re Not Supposed to Drink Coffee This Late, Sir”

NEXT CHAPTER

Summary: Life could have honesty been simpler than that for Hokuto, a second-year Liteature major. There's, however, someone out there willing to just make it easier on him.

Fandom: Ensemble Stars! (College/Coffeeshop AU) Ships: HokuAn (Anzu/Hokuto)

Wordcount: 1.5K words

Notes: C'mon, the occasion was too tempting for me not to title this fic after the real banger that is Susumu Hirasawa's masterpiece, "Nurse Café".

Your boi is working on his big-ass Arc-V fic project, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do and writing a nice little sickfic. AKA: I'm bursting that fandoms's door like I've always done, which is with a sickfic nobody wanted but me (and maybe my friend @nehamerchant123 who got me into this mess in the first place) (btw go check her cake business, she’s working on her cardd page for it)

I've been into this game's characters for a whole three weeks but I am not giving a shit I am doing this. I also don't know anything about colleges at all in any part of the world, I don't even know the Sorbonne because I've been there like thrice and it's always been in the same parts anyway (to be fair, I'm not even attending it yet lmao) It's very self-indulgent so it's short and split in two, I dunno, I may combine the two chapters some other day. It's probably also OOC, but whatever yeet

AO3 version available here.

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On second thought, his life may have been a mess, lately. For someone who liked organization, keeping a pace and thinking everything thoroughly to reach as much perfection as possible, he sure had allowed things to get messy without meaning to. To be fair to himself, problems had started piling up suddenly and at an incredible speed, to the point he didn’t know in what order he should have attempted fixing them: should he prioritize taking care of his grandmother who broke her leg not too long ago, his studies increasing in volume or his club duties, even if his leader was getting on his nerves with his weird, nonsensical shenanigans?

At first, he tried managing everything at once, but after some weeks of pulling almost-all-nighters, he decided to seek alternatives. It didn’t quite work out as planned, but at least, he had found a way to survive the storm for now: the local coffeeshop’s espressos. For someone who used to be so on-the-nose with his health, that was a strange choice, sure, but being friends with people like Subaru Ahehoshi made one adaptable and needing to find solutions quickly, if just temporary.

Not that he didn’t hate relying on coffee in the first place.

His new routine, solidified by a couple months spent tuning it to maximize time use and task efficiency (albeit it was still a bit stiff, like he had always been), consisted of doing the most he can, not fall onto his bed and immediately find sleep before getting woken up by his own anxiety, and continue on his day by getting a cup of coffee in the same café, each time, to the same cashier. It was always the same order in the same place at similar hours of the evening, which gave it a sense of comfort he wasn’t against in times where he wasn’t sure how he should have asked for help. All of what he was doing is stuff he was supposed to be doing by himself, after all: he shouldn’t have needed someone else’s help for that, didn’t need to bring them through the mud with him (even if Isara had offered to help him, he had always declined: Isara may have very well been the only man he knew that had constantly been busier than him).

His grandma has told him before to lay it off, to let her do her thing and for him to focus on himself. While he intended on forcing himself not to barge into her life constantly, he quickly found himself doing it again even after her scolding: he just couldn’t not worry over it, he had to check if she was doing fine and if she was getting the hang of things. Ah, how thick-headed he’s been!

(In a way, maybe he put himself in that mess to begin with. Should have applied his own advice and tasted his own medicine).

With a presentation dooming over his head for the next week and more drama club shenanigans, he had gotten backed in a corner: it was either researching for the entire night or risk getting an awful grade that’d sink his results to the bottom of the sea. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, he had gone for the first option, albeit he was starting to think this may not have been the greatest idea he had ever had. (Actually, far from it). Still, that presentation wouldn’t write itself on its own, so he went for it and spent a night or two working on that while occupying his daytime with taking care of his grandma (who’s soon out of having her feet stuck in some cast, thank God for that) and club business and other college-related catastrophes strolling around in his life.

It was with a pounding headache and stumbling feet that he made it out of his flat and into the campus, heading straight for the café he always got his precious cup of coffee in (he was hesitating to put aspirin in the cup itself, but that sounded like a terrible idea, and he had left his aspirin tablets in his flat anyway), ignoring the gazes around him (it was easier to do when his sight is half-blurry to begin with). Once he was done with that necessary loss of time, he’d be able to come back to his actual work and that until he’d be finished with it. If he was productive enough, he should have been done with that presentation’s slideshow by the time 5AM hits.

He entered the café, heard an unfamiliar bell ring immediately as he opened and closed the door, and went straight for the counter like a drunkard entering a tavern. He didn’t care about it in the slighest: he pulls out his yens from his pocket, slams them on the counter and asks, in a groggy voice he doesn’t like to hear to himself, “hello, I’d like an espresso, please”, with the least charisma he could have mustered because he was that tired and he just wanted to be over with that damn presentation already.

It was only when he rose his eyes to face the barista that he realized he had entered the wrong café, right as he faced a high school classmate, friend, and probably something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on, whom had never worked at his usual café. He didn’t say anything, but gulped and swallowed his pride back in, and payed for his espresso by pushing the coins anyway (Ahehoshi would have jumped on the counter to get them: they were undeniably shinier than they should have been).

“Good evening, sir, thank you for com…”

Silence.

“Hokuto, is that you?!”

That voice was no mistake: this was Anzu, from the Management course. This was going to be painful…

“Ah… Yeah…?” Oh God. What was he supposed to tell her? That he didn’t even know where he was walking anymore? That this was all a giant misunderstanding on his part? “Yeah.”

“I’m not used to seeing you around here? How are you?”

“…Fine.” Something was missing. “I hope you’re doing well too.”

That wasn’t really good dialogue. Not that Anzu picked up in it: she was probably too busy trying to do her job.

“Here you go, Hokuto…” She put his cup on the counter and picked his coins. “You’re sure you should be drinking that at this time of the day? It’s late and you’ll have a hard time sleeping if you drink that now.” Then she muttered to herself: “looks like you’d benefit from a good night’s sleep too…”

“Thank you, have a goodnight.”

He picked his cup and went to a table, legs feeling faint. There was nobody still around in the café: clearly, unlike his usual 24/7 place where there always was someone living in the night (the Sakuma brothers trying to avoid each other but finding themselves in the same place and Hajime taking part-time jobs were the firsts to come to his mind), this was a daytime place and he was all aone, stuck with his pounding headache and Anzu cleaning before closing. He had something like fifteen minutes to drink his fuming coffee and get out of there, but even his hands felt sluggish and unresponsive.

Maybe he really wanted to throw that presentation out of the window and just sleep for the next three days. He didn’t even know what he was doing anymore anyway.

After a few moments, he watched with bleary eyes and eyelids closing on their own Anzu walked to him and sit on the opposite side of the table, staring at him with an expression he couldn’t really read, before her hand arrived on his forehead. It was cold, unnaturally so, and he wondered if she didn’t have blood circulation problems like he was worried he could have had before. Yet, despite his rising concerns, he still let himself lean into it, too tired to really pay attention to how he was behaving. That was bad, awful even. He needed to gulp his coffee, so he did, burnt his tongue and throat, and was about to pack it when he noticed she was still staring at him.

“I… I need to go, is there something wrong?” He asked, hoping this would be enough.

“You…”

Huh. Okay.

“I’m leaving now, I’ll let you close the sh—”

Black dots appeared in his sight as soon as he got up and he felt his body plunge forward, hand slipping instead of grabbing at the table, vision blurring until all he could feel was hands wrapping themselves around him and faint, muffled sounds resonating in the distance.

It was all over, wasn’t it? He couldn’t move nor feel anymore, right? What a way to end his rush… What way to finish the evening that he was supposed to finish his presentation on… That was his way to go? Huh… Not like he could resist against his own body finally turning on him.

He had failed in a dramatic fashion, that was for sure.

And, to be honest, he kind of hated it.

#enstars #ensemble stars #hokuan #hidaka hokuto #anzu ensemble stars #sickfic #hurt comfort #AU: Coffeeshop #AU: College #overwork #sleep deprivation #anzu (enstars)#otp: konpeito chou cream #Fic: Nurse Cafe

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dramaqueeenamby · 6 years

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Family Counseling (12)

FAMILY COUNSELING (12)

Family Counseling (12) - Drabble

MASTERLIST

A/N: Saturday update??? I knowwww! This week has been...stressful. I literally fell asleep in the middle of redoing a portion of my thesis last night. Had a family situation that I’m still dealing with along with school continuing to plague my life (btw, I hate groups and trump supporters).

We’re soooo close to shit hitting the fan. I think the next chapter will mark the beginning of the ending arc. I’m legit so excited to start writing that. Introducing a new (or 2?) character in this part because everyone deserves happiness okay.

I apologize for any confusing parts or mistakes. Been working on this on and off all week while watching my husband Chad on SNL (I actually hate potato salad lol), On My Block (PLEASE WATCH IT), and finished it off today whilst listening to Chun Li and Barbie Tings. *shrugs*

No outfit for this one because….yeah, there just isn’t. lmfaooo

Words: 6889

TAGLIST: @onyour-right @hutchj @janellemonaenae @dreamer7black @geminis2ndface @ruminationsofaraven @myrikal324 @groovybbyyy @iamimanim @parris-symone

Her arm was propped up against the pillow as she laid next to him, her fingers drawing nonsensical patterns along the sharp muscles that defined his back, which was toward her. She knew that he wasn't sleeping as she could see the rise and fall of his body. She also knew that he wasn’t in the same position that she was in; that is, his body completely spent from the consecutive, passionate, and exhaustive lovemaking that had consumed the two in the last twenty-four hours.

No, he was simply relishing the moment.

She eventually grew frustrated with the distance between them and scooted over, placing her upper body on top of his, her cheek pressed into the back of his shoulder blade.

She heard his deep chuckle. “Yes?”

“Do not excite yourself, love.” Her eyes shut. “I simply want you near me. Not in me.”

“You say that now, but your sentiments were quite the opposite just-“ He was interrupted by the slight sting of electricity crackling against his back.

“Hmmm?” She mumbled innocently, retracting her hand to his side and smiling when she heard him grunt. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“Nothing, my queen.” He muttered in irritation when he heard it. The sudden strange pattern of her heartbeat. It was just strong, normal, symmetrical, and then it was rapid. He looked over his shoulder. “What is wrong?”

She looked up at him in a daze, startled, and shook her head. “Nothing. I just…I suppose it will take some time.” He felt the pressure being lifted off him as she rolled onto her back as he then turned to hover over her, his hand going to lightly caress her face. “What do I know about being queen?”

“Absolutely nothing.” He answered honestly as she eyed him with incredulity before he laughed softly. “And that matters not because being queen has absolutely nothing to do with the title, my love. It has to do with heart, loyalty, compassion, and I know not one person who has more than any of those qualities than you.”

“You have to say that.” She rolled her eyes and frowned slightly. “You are my husband.” A brief look of astonishment fell over her face.

That did not slip past T’Challa. “What?”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “We’re married.”

He nodded hesitantly. “That is typically what a wedding signifies.”

“No.” She shook her head and grabbed his hand, rubbing it, as it rested on her bare stomach. “I just-I never imagined this could, that this would be us.”

His stomach dropped as he realized what she was saying. “That I would marry you?”

“That you would love me the way that I love you.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. Actually, he did, but doing so meant that he had to acknowledge how much of an asshole he had been to her and in doing so would mean she would relive all of the shit he’d done to her over the years. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t do anything that could potentially cause her to reevaluate her decision to be with him because he was just that selfish when it came to her, one of the few times in his life that he was selfish.

He couldn’t be without her, even if he didn’t deserve her.

He could apologize though.

“Y/N-“

She leaned up and placed her index finger over his mouth. “Don’t.” She smiled sadly. “I know that you are still unfamiliar with the concept, but honeymoons are supposed to be joyous occasions.”

“But I-“

She forced her lips to his, slow and passionate, before pulling back to whisper. “And we’re doing such a good job with the joyous part so far, no?” He didn’t get a chance to respond as she resumed their tryst, soon pushing on his shoulders so that he was sitting up before she straddled him. “And I hate to ruin such a good thing.” She moaned as she positioned herself and purposely took her time sliding down on his hardened length.

He gripped her hips, forcing himself to maintain composure as she intentionally started a torturously slow pace. “What happened to just being near you?” He forced out, shutting his eyes, the man trying his damn hardest to control the panther within.

She completely stopped her gyrations and shoved him flat on his back, flattening her palms up his chest, all the way to his shoulders. “Are you questioning your queen?”

Whether it was the brewing sexual frustration, the abrupt change in topic, or a combination of both, but something came over T’Challa.

Suddenly, they were both upright, his pulsating member still embedded inside of her, his hand wrapped around her throat applying the slightest of pressure.

“The question, my queen.” He hissed into her ear. “Is are you questioning your king?”

She gave a wry smile, eyes cast up at the ceiling because of the angle he had her head in. “I fear no man.” She then darted her brown orbs in his direction. “Or Panther.”

He froze at that, understanding what she meant. She was giving him permission to let loose.

They’d been intimate plenty of times in the past and with each act, he’d also ensure to hold back as to not hurt her. It only made sense. His abilities capable of leaving her bruised in the event that he lost control in the midst of their passion, which was more likely than not.

He’d already hurt her enough emotionally over the years. He was not willing to risk hurting her physically and was prepared to tell her that when he looked up and saw her eyes were starting to glaze over with white.

He then realized that he hadn’t been the only one holding back.

“T’Challa…”

The need in her voice, the compromising position, it was all too much. With a guttural growl, he switched their positions so that she was on her back and pushed up her legs so that one was wrapped around his waist and the other linked around his shoulder.

Her eyes immediately started to roll into the back of her head, the insatiable and suffocating feeling that accompanied having him fill her to her hilt indescribable. She’d only ever been with him intimately so she had no other man to compare him to, but she had no zero complaints.

Not only was the man well endowed, but he was well versed in that he knew exactly what she liked, just the right spots, the positions that left her crying, screaming, clawing his back raw, and thrashing around like an animal in heat.

No pun intended.

And while T’Challa was a relatively reserved man to everyone else, Y/N saw a different side of him in the bedroom. He was always attentive, caring, sensitive to her wants and needs, yes, but he was an arrogant bastard.

He knew that he was the only man she allowed to bend her over, to fill her up, to take her as he did, and he loved it. He loved hearing her scream his name, the tears that streamed down her face as he brought such unearthly pleasure to her body, the dazed look in her eyes as he stared down in her brown orbs while taking her from behind.

For the most part, he liked to be in control, but there were times that he let her take the reigns, reveling in the feeling of her being on top, guiding her hips as she rode him.

But when she was upset with him, as she often was when they reunited and engaged in initial makeup sex, she teased him, her pace slow and torturous, and there was only so much that he could take before flipping them, once again taking the reigns.

An hour later, the newlywed couple laid a tangled mess in the bed, Y/N completely spent, in a deep sleep while T’Challa simply held her drained body against his as he stared outside the large window of the bedroom.

He’d had never seen a Storm like the one they’d created that night.

Some pun intended.

+++++++++

“It’s just like the palace in here!” Nifa yelled with her hands in the air as she ran through the halls.

Asha seethed internally. “Sister. What did I tell you about running?”

“I am not running.” Nifa turned around and raised her chin in an attempt to signify boldness. “I am jogging.”

“Well, none of that either.” The teenager scolded.

The queen’s school for mutants was finally finished and she allowed an intimate group of individuals to tour it before the council would evaluate the building giving her approval to open it to the general public.

Shuri, who was walking beside a stone-faced D’Kar, looked up at him out the corner of her eye. “What did you think of the training room?”

He glanced at her, forcing her to quickly divert her gaze back to the group ahead of them. He smirked. “Adequate.”

She frowned. “Adequate?”

“Yes.” He looked down at her. “I see no need for such unnecessary, advanced technology when it comes to fighting-“

“Unnecessary?” She repeated while balling her tiny hands into fists. “I will have you know, Jabari, that I designed that unnecessary technology-wait. Advanced?”

His smirk formed into a smug smile. “Yes. From your demonstration, it was clear that your configurations accounted for the wide range of abilities that the children will bring to the table. Quite impressive, unnecessary as fighting should always begin with the body before resorting to manmade gadgets, but nevertheless a testament to your expertise.”

She turned her head, suddenly wishing that he was not so close, that their arms would not occasionally brush against each other as they walked.

“Is everything alright, your highness?” The young man teased, his tone innocent enough, but both of them knowing he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’ve suddenly turned rather reddish in color.”

She snapped her head in his direction to send him a vile glare. “You do realize that I have vibranium gauntlets at my disposal, correct?”

He said nothing and neither did she when she suddenly felt a large, coarse but warm hand encompass hers.

She made no effort to pull away.

Y/N smiled broadly at the interaction only to look up and see a tense husband of hers. She rolled her eyes. “T’Challa.”

“Hmm.” He said while staring at the conjoined hands of his baby sister and the Jabari boy.

His wife, knowing that a pinch would do absolutely nothing given the enhanced density of his skin, decided to take her free hand, place it over his and send a jolt of electricity his way.

“Bast.” He jumped slightly and looked down at her with incredulity. “What?”

“Would you leave them alone?” She complained. “He is a nice boy.”

He looked like she’d insulted him. “What are you talking about?” His voice took on a slightly higher tone, a telltale sign that she was right with her hypothesis. “I never said that he wasn’t.”

“Then why do you keep looking at him as though you want to rip out his jugular vein?” She raised a brow.

He shook his head. “If that were the case, I would have done so at dinner.”

“No, you just interrogated the poor child the whole night.” She knew her husband was protective, but she couldn’t have imagined he’d be so overbearing as he’d been during the gathering between the dinner that saw her family meet with M’Baku’s family. T’Challa had questioned D’Kar on everything from his hobbies to his past relationships and had even taken the boy into his office for a twenty-minute one-on-one that had left even the queen nervous.

Needless to say, Shuri had given her brother an earful the following day.

“Is it wrong to want to ensure that my sister ends up with someone worthy of all that she has to offer?”

“Who do you consider worthy, T’Challa?”

He did not hesitate with his answer. “No one.”

Y/N’s mouth dropped as she shook her head. “It is for that reason our daughter will probably end up running off with some prince from a neighboring nation.”

T’Challa released a small chuckle, his head dropping to his chest before he raised his it and set his gaze straight ahead. “I shall kill him before they make the border.”

“She will never forgive you.”

“Forever is a long time, my love.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “And what if I assisted in their escape?”

He looked down at her and smirked before lowering his voice. “There are ways to handle a queen who disobeys her king.”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “Oh?” Walking ahead, a sly grin fell on her face. “I would not know.” Almost immediately, she felt her body being pulled as her back was pressed into his front, his arms wrapping around her, hands planted on her stomach.

She lifted her hand to rub the back of his head as he kissed on her neck and spoke against her skin. “Their heartbeats are so strong….”

“It’s symbolic…..” She mumbled as his large hand moved in a circular motion. “In more than one way.” She craned her head to smile up at him waywardly. “They are most active at the sound of your voice.”

He looked at her, his eyes burning with an unreadable emotion when they fell on the top of her head. “What is this?”

She frowned. “What?” T’Challa grabbed a ringlet of her kinky curls and let it drop in front of her face. She gasped almost immediately.

It was completely white.

“Is it anywhere else?” She started to feel around her head as he examined it.

“No.” He confirmed and then sensed the distress radiating from her. “Relax, love.”

She glared. “Let a piece of your hair turn white, and we shall see how well you adjust.”

He opened his mouth to reply but she pulled away from him and started to widen the distance between them.

He sighed heavily.

“Damn hormones…”

Meanwhile, Erik watched from atop the balcony, waiting for the whole thing to be over. He had a meeting with a rather…nubile handmaiden who was quite gifted with her mouth and hands.

“I must say.” Erik Stevens jumped from shock, the first time in a long time that he of all people had been caught off guard. “They're not completely vomiting inducing. Slightly unbearable. But not intolerable.”

He eyed the cocoa complexioned woman with large

senegalese twists who was also leaning over the balcony, her stance shedding light on a toned and shapely physique.

Still, Erik didn’t like not being in control of situations.

“Who the fuck are you?”

She looked over at him out the corner of her eye and chuckled humorously. “Relax my prince.” She said the last word with a hint of sarcasm, turning around so that her forearms were against the railing, her chest touted against the sky. “Your favorite cousin down there summoned my presence.”

Her answer was loaded. Not only was she the first person he’d met in Wakanda to actually address him as a royal, but she was also the first to match his wit. Though he’d never admit it, Erik was slightly…slightly intrigued.

Especially now that he knew who she was.

He stepped closer, keeping one hand on the railing. “You’re Nareema.” He identified with a tilt of his head. “Y/N’s friend.”

“And here I was saving the best part for last.” She sighed with faux disappointment. “And you’re the long-lost royal who managed to almost fuck the nation up in less than twenty-four hours. I think that’s a record.”

Make that very intrigued.

“Oh love,” Ramonda breathed as the group finally met up at the grand circle of the school. “This place exceeds expectations.”

The queen smiled in satisfaction, T’Challa’s hand wrapped firmly around hers. “Thank you, Ramonda.”

“I think it’s awesome!” Nifa shouted while raising her fists for unnecessary dramatic effect. “I really like the relaxation room!”

“Of course you do,” Asha rolled her eyes. “That’s where most of the toys are.” She looked at the queen and shifted on her heels. “It is rather nice, your highness.”

Y/N smiled softly, grateful for the compliment given she could see that Asha was a special case, untrusting of a lot of people. “Thank you, Asha. And I told you before, I’d much rather you call me by my name.”

The teenager looked shocked and then nodded, offering a small smile.

“That’s nice and all, but can we take a moment to just appreciate my designs?” Shuri interjected, earning a scowl of disapproval from T’Challa.

The queen giggled. “You know that I adore you, sister. My gratitude for your contribution has no end.”

T’Challa noticed that D’Kar was perplexed. “Is there something wrong?”

“Question.” He directed his query to Shuri. “If the tech that you designed is as complex as you say, who will run it?”

“I have assembled a faction of the design team to operate it.” She shrugged.

“But won’t you still need someone to oversee it, princess?” Okoye spoke out, breaking her silence.

Shuri opened her mouth and then stopped. “I suppose I hadn’t thought of that.” She sent an apologetic look toward her sister-in-law. “Between the outreach center and overseeing the tech here, I do not think I can handle any more duties sister.”

“Do not trouble yourself, Shuri.” Y/N smiled softly. “I already have a director.”

“You do?” Both the Udaku siblings spoke at the same time.

“Yes.” She rolled her eyes. “Erik.”

The young man who’d been leaning against a pillar who’d been uncharacteristically up until that point finally spoke. “What?”

“Yes, what?” Shuri reiterated.

Y/N sighed and dropped her husband’s hand, moving to the middle of the circle so that she was closing closer to him. “You are brilliant, Erik. We all know it. You have the credentials and I know that if you don’t already know how to operate the designs, it won’t take you long to figure it out.”

“What makes you so sure of that, your highness?” He chuckled darkly.

“Because the same blood that runs through them,” she pointed back to Shuri and T’Challa. “Runs through you.” She saw the briefest flash of an undetectable emotion go through his brown eyes. “I need someone that I can trust to hold this position Erik, and I trust you.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Shuri spoke out and Y/N turned around to see that she was more sarcastic than she was upset.

“You do,” she nodded and then discreetly gestured to Nifa who was playing with Asha’s hair. “But, my dear sister, would you really cause a spectacle in front of a child? Or even worst, argue with a pregnant woman?”

D’Kar smiled and dropped his head, causing Shuri to elbow him in his side before she conceded. “I suppose Erik is the only other option.” A beat. “Unfortunately.”

“Appreciate the support, princess.” Erik shot her a wink before rolling his eyes. “But ya’ll really think the council is about to okay this sh-crap?” He caught himself when Ramonda sent him a look.

“This is not the council’s decision to make. It is mine.” Y/N stated firmly.

“Yes.” T’Challa supplied, walking up and placing his hand on the small of Y/N’s back. “And should they have any other unnecessary or unwarranted opinions, we shall see to it that they understand when and where their authorization is needed.”

“Wow.” All eyes turned to the sound of the new voice. “A lot has changed since my…..leave of absence.”

Okoye and Y/N stared in shock.

“Nareema?”

“In the flesh?” She pushed her body off the wall and stepped. “Oh, almost forgot.” She managed a sloppy bow.

“My queen.”

Y/N gave a watery laugh and pulled the woman in for a hug. “I’ve missed you.”

Nareema held her tight before they pulled away. “Indeed you have.” She looked down at her stomach. “So much so that you’ve succumbed to spending your time getting di-“

“Nareema!” Y/N scolded with a blush. “Still the same.”

The other woman frowned. “Is that a problem?” They then giggled as if they’d shared a secret joke.

“Nareema.”

The two broke away as the outspoken woman looked at the general with a bored expression. “General.”

“It is good to see you.” Okoye kept her poised expression. “You look well.”

“And you look the same.” Nareema quipped. “Courtesy of being a Dora, eh? One size fits all?”

There was a tense second of silence before the two women laughed, shared a warm embrace, and Okoye spoke in Xhosa.

“Welcome home, little sister.”

+++++++++

“Ramonda did all of this?” Nareema stared around the elaborate and expansive black and silver nursery that would soon belong to the prince and princess of Wakanda. “For Bast sake, it is beautiful!”

“Isn’t it?” Y/N blushed as she held her back to support the weight of her growing belly. “T’Challa and I practically did nothing except approve a few things here and there. She took care of everything for us.”

“Well,” Nareema stopped and wiggled her eyebrows. “I suppose you two were preoccupied with other things.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Why did you not tell me you were coming?”

“And ruin the surprise?” She placed her hand on her hip and tilted her head. “Twenty plus years of friendship and you still don’t know me?” She faked a sad sigh. “I am hurt. Truly.”

Y/N approached and grabbed her hands. “Promise that you will stay until the twins are born.”

Nareema squeezed their gathered hands ever so lightly and smirked. “What took you so long to ask?”

Y/N dropped her head and smiled warmly. “It is good to have you home, Nareema.”

The woman narrowed her eyes slightly and commented innocently. “There was once a time you would not even refer to this place as your home.”

“Much has changed, Reema’.”

“Indeed it has,” she gestured down to her stomach, before gently placing her hand down on it. “Twins….are you nervous?”

“The truth?” A beat. “Terrified.”

Nareema pulled her hand back, rolled her eyes, and dragged her friend over to a nearby couch. She watched with humor as Y/N had to take a few extra seconds to sit down, her stomach making a once simple task a slightly difficult endeavor.

Once she was situated, Nareema started to Q and A.

“For what? If anyone was put on this earth to be a mother, it was you.” A beat. “You’re actually nice.”

Y/N laughed softly. “While I appreciate that, it takes more than kindness to be a good mother, Nareema.”

“You’re right, it takes heart, patience, forgiveness, and basically everything that I am not, which you are so, ergo, a good mother,” Nareema said as if it was the most obvious thing ever, shifting her shoulders and rolling her eyes. “Great Bast, you always were hard of hearing.”

“And you never were good with encouragement,” Y/N teased.

“Hence why you went into counseling and I went into criminology,” Nareema shrugged before growing serious. “How is Nakia handling your pregnancy?”

Y/N mouth formed into a straight line. “As well as can be expected.”

Nareema exhaled in frustration. “So, in other words, you continue to let her disrespect you and your position-“

“Nareema-“

“No, I understood your initial explanation.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Absolutely not. I just said that to appease you.” The pregnant woman rolled her eyes. “But the fact of the matter is that Nakia never did and still does not want to be queen; she just does not want you to be queen or to have T’Challa, who she also wants.” A beat. “And if she truly loved him and if he truly loved her, they would not have spent years with that stupid on and off relationship of theirs.” She rolled her eyes. “Although I suppose it served as a nice cover.”

Y/N frowned. “Cover for what?”

Nareema laughed softly. “You.” When Y/N didn’t say anything, she moaned. “Oh, come now. Surely you’ve realized it by now.”

“Realized what?”

“It’s always been you. Well, perhaps not always, but for some time. Longer than I realized, at least…” She trailed off.

Y/N stared at her childhood friend with incredulity. “Reema’ what are you-“ She watched as the other woman grabbed her hand and raised it, shaking it lightly while pointing to her wedding ring, the large diamond reflecting from the sun emanating from the large window opposite the other side of the room. “I don’t understand.”

“Y/N, have you never noticed the absence of a ring on Ramonda’s hand? From any married woman in Wakanda? Wakandans do not believe in wedding rings.”

The expecting mother frowned. She certainly hadn’t, something like that being rather trivial in terms of things she paid attention to. Yet, she failed to see the relevancy.

“Okay…”

Nareema pinched the bridge of her nose. “You told me that T’Challa gave you your ring the morning after he proposed. That when you woke up, it was on your finger, yes?”

It was true. That night he asked her to marry him, they’d stayed up for some time, not engaging in intercourse, but instead just talking, enjoying each other’s company. At some point, she’d fallen asleep, and when she woke up, the gorgeous promise of commitment was on her ring finger.

“That ring was not for Nakia. He would never give her one because it is not the Wakandan way. It was for you, and I highly doubt he had a ring of that magnitude, that quality, and that luxury made in just a few hours. He’d had it for some time, Y/N.”

The queen stared off at the wall, in a state of shock from the load of information. Was it true? Had T’Challa had the ring for a while? It had to be true? Her friend for over twenty years had no reason to lie and Nakia had no need for a token that commemorated a foreign ritual. T’Challa most certainly had gotten the ring specifically for her, but when and how long had he had it? Marriage was a nothing to be taken lightly and something the two of them had never talked about and now she was leaning that he’d been harboring a damn wedding ring for an undisclosed amount of time.

If he wanted to marry her, did that mean he chose her? If so, then when? And why had he not told her?

“If he wanted to marry me, why did he not say so? Why not ask me?” She voiced her thoughts.

Nareema shrugged and then joked nonchalantly. “Perhaps he truly went the American route and asked your father who refused to give his blessing.”

Y/N’s head shot up. “What?”

Nareema elaborated. “Aside from the few of us with inside knowledge of the information to everyone on the outside, T’Challa was always destined to be with Nakia. The breakups were just temporary. She was going to be his queen. Hodari did not know of your and T’s….situation. Maybe your father thought that he was protecting you.” A beat. “Or Bast, maybe King T’Chaka was not tying to have the arrangement made at birth ruined by some mutant girl just like he would not have Okoyo’s mutant sister ruin his precious Dora Milaje.” She finished with a bitter chuckle.

Y/N, being the empathetic person that she was, immediately thought back to the first time she saw her childhood female best friend cry. No one knew of the unspoken ban that existed on mutants joining the Dora Milaje. That is, until Nareema voiced her desire to follow in Okoye’s footsteps and was informed by their parents.

She was crushed, never really the same after that.

“But whatever the reason, it matters not anymore.” Nareema reached over and lightly squeezed Y/N’s shoulders, realizing that the young queen was starting to reflect on the hypothetical scenarios she’d just proposed. “What’s done is done. You have T’Challa’s heart, you have the kingdom, and pretty soon, you will have children.” A beat. “Coming out of your vagina.”

“Nareema!”

+++++++++

Erik and T’Challa were in his office when all of a sudden Nareema came barging in. Except, she came through the double doors.

Literally through the doors.

“You better have a damn good reason as to why I had to just play a sick mind game with my best friend.” Was the first thing she said while staring down at an unphased T’Challa while Erik stared at her in amazement, unaware of the fact that she was a mutant. “You already having had the ring, okay? I can live with that because it’s true, but the reasons that I just had to feed her. I’ve never lied to her and because of you, I just did, so you better start talking Udaku!”

“Did you just-”

“I have the gift of intangibility.” She spoke without looking at him, eyes still burning on the king. “Answer me!”

Erik looked back and forth as she spoke to his cousin without an ounce of regard for the fact that he was her king.

“I like her.” He smirked, sitting on the edge of T’Challa’s desk with his arms crossed.

T’Challa gave his cousin an expression of annoyance before leaning back in his chair and sighing heavily. “I need to start planting the idea that Hodari nor my father…..they….”

“One ain’t worth shit, and the other wouldn’t be shit either, but he already dead so.” Erik shrugged casually.

Nareema groaned. “You’re not making any sense.”

“Hodari has been working Princess Zanda in hopes to develop a cure for…mutants.” T’Challa hesitated with the last part for obvious reasons.

Nareema visibly tensed. “What?”

“Come on cuz, don’t leave out the best part.” Erik smiled broadly, playing with a set of Kimoyo beads. “Shit goes as far back as twenty years. As part of a mission started by my dear old Uncle T’Chaka.” Erik threw a set in the air, catching it easily. “Guess all that shit about wanting to keep Wakanda closed to the outside world had some stipulations, huh?”

“A cure?” Nareema hissed, her hand balled into a fist. “Of course.” She shook her head and then narrowed her eyes at T’Challa. “So you father was secretly cooperating with outside entities while parading around as though he was too good to allow Wakanda to associate itself with anyone else?”

T’Challa sighed. “My father was not a perfect man.”

“What gave it away?” Erik questioned with a raise of his brow. “Murdering his own brother? Or trying to cleanse his country of mutants?”

T’Challa stood from his desk and planted his palms down firmly. “We do not know for sure those were his intentions.”

“Do not be daft, T’Challa.” Nareema sneered. “Why else would he be willing to work with Narobia of all places? While their technological capabilities do not even come close to matching ours, they are far more advanced than any other country.” When the king said nothing else, she spoke again. “Where is Hodari now?”

“On a mission in the states,” Erik answered as she turned to look at him. “We’ve been monitoring his calls.”

“Why?” She frowned. “If he is working with Zanda on a cure, should you not be trying to trace where this cure is being manufactured?”

“That has been taken care of,” T’Challa answered vaguely.

Nareema narrowed her eyes. “How?” Erik mimicked an explosion with his hands which only further confused Okoye’s sister. “You two make no sense.”

T’Challa finally realized that feeding the woman who he called in as a way to help take his wife’s mind off everything that was going on (that is, the stuff she that she knew was going on) meant he would have to share more than just bits and pieces.

She needed the full story.

And so, he proceeded to tell her everything.

Starting with the discovery that Y/N was directly targeted while in California all the way to the latest information he and Erik had uncovered only hours ago.

Nareema was floored.

“This is insane.” She breathed. “What in Bast sake is really going on? Why is Hodari now so concerned with a cure? And how does a man go from wanting permanent annihilation-“

“He was just following orders.” Erik chuckled darkly.

“I was not referring to him.” Nareema interrupted, her eyes set on T’Challa as an uncomfortable blanket of silence fell over the room. “I always felt as though your father never truly liked mutants what with the ban on them not being allowed to join the Dora Milaje, but this…this is beyond comprehension.”

“Forreal?” Erik interrupted as Nareema gave him her attention.

“Apparently we have an advantage over everyone else.” She spoke with pure sarcasm. “At least, that was the excuse then…”

“Regardless, she has a point.” Erik resumed the previous topic at hand. “And while I enjoy any conversation that includes pointing out what a weak ass leader my good old uncle really was, the real question is why Hodari is suddenly so interested in getting his hands on a cure.”

T’Challa forced himself to ignore the snide comment about his late father. After all, he was experiencing his own mixed feelings about the man… “Are we sure that there has been no paper trail between him and Zanda or any other Narobian official over the years?”

Erik shook his head. “Nothing. And if I can’t find it, shit must not exist.”

“What about that other company you mentioned?” Nareema chimed. “Sublime?”

“Filed for bankruptcy the same year the file for this mission was marked as completed,” Erik responded.

“Let me see that,” Nareema asked as Erik pulled up the interactive file as the two cousins watched the woman inspect it closely. “Interesting.”

“What?”

She looked at her best friend’s husband. “This company filed exactly one week after Y/N’s mother was murdered.” She then started searching for a few things. “And the CEO? A man by the name of Charles Lobe? Also went missing the same day.” A beat. “They never found his body.”

“As the filing of the bankruptcy?”

Erik asked while walking up behind her.

“No.” She looked up at him over her shoulder. “As the murder.”

T’Challa frowned and rubbed his temples. He was never one to believe in such an abstract concept as coincidences.

“The company that was manufacturing a serum that could kill mutants suddenly goes under, the CEO disappears without a trace, and Y/N’s mother is murdered.”

“In my tactical unit, we never left behind anything or anyone that could link us back to the mission.” He muttered while rubbing his beard. “Destruction links them all together, but that’s not enough, there was always a purpose and a reason. A stronger connection. A better linkage.”

“Her mother….what did she do for a living?” Erik asked no one in particular.

“She was a teacher,” T’Challa answered quickly. “Elementary school teacher.”

“And how exactly was she killed? I know the method, but what were details on the events leading up to it?”

“No one knows.” Nareema sighed. “She….she’s never spoken about it. It’s too painful for her.”

It was true. Not even T’Challa knew all the details of that day, but he suddenly thought of someone who did and a dark idea crossed his mind, one he never thought he’d resort to, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Instead, he decided to point out and share something else.

“Her mother…she was a mutant too.” The other two gave him surprised expressions. “We recently learned via genetic tests that there is a strong possibility the twins maternal grandmother was an empath.”

All of a sudden, Erik started to laugh, but his voice was void of humor. “Son of a bitch.”

“What?” Nareema looked over at him.”

“I told you. We never left anything behind.” He started messing around with the mission report. “Something went wrong. It must have.. Why else would the records here be clean of any trace of what happened? Think about it: the company, her mother, the CEO. They all had to be eliminated.”

“That makes no sense.” Nareema shook her head. “Are you saying that her mother was in on it?”

“I believe that she unwittingly became apart of it. Consider the historical context of the time period, mutants were in the same position that they’re still in now. Judged and criticized. But for her, if she really was an empath, she had it easier than some of the others.”

“You believe that she hid her abilities?” T’Challa was starting to follow along. “From the world and Hodari.”

“Makes sense.” Erik shrugged.

Nareema too began to follow their train of thought. “And it was already bad enough he diverted from the mission by developing feelings for an outsider, but he impregnated her.” A beat. “But he still left her?”

“I think you got this one, cuz.” Erik gestured to T’Challa who sent him a sharp look indicating that he was in no mood for games. Erik, of course, remained unbothered.

“Pull up his missions for the year that her mother was killed again,” T’Challa instructed as he scanned them, his eyes latching onto something. “What is this?”

Erik noticed too. “It’s the same mission. Twice.”

Nareema frowned. “That makes no sense.”

“No, it does not.” T’Challa quietly agreed. “Because it is a decoy.” A beat. “A mirage to disguise his true location.”

“Let me try something.” Nareema and T’Challa waited as Erik proceeded to try and toy with the advanced technological systems, bypassing firewalls before he was finally able to hack in. “There we go.”

“Virginia….” Nareema trailed off as she looked at the two men. “Isn’t that where Y/N and her mother were living?”

“Yes.” T’Challa answered solemnly. “And it is also where she was struck down.”

“Why would he suddenly go visit her?”

“Wait.” Nareema exclaimed. “Y/N once told me how when she was younger that the only time she truly saw her mother get upset was when she went to go draw blood.”

“I recall that story.” T’Challa chimed. “For some reason, they would not allow her to because she did not pass…the screening.”

“Where was Sublime’s headquarters?” Erik pulled up another screen, did some typing, and swirled the projection so that they could see. “Virginia. And they also had a pharmaceutical company.”

“What’s that?” Nareema pointed as a message popped up on the screen.

“This is all archive data so it must be a leftover piece of correspondence from that day that didn’t get completely erased from the mainframe,” Erik answered and clicked around as a black screen popped up.

Start Encrypted Message

BACK PAGE

USER4958058

Tests came back negative, sir.

What are our orders?

USER93085041

Eliminate them.

USER4958058

….Even the child?

USER93085041

I said them.

USER4958058

It will be done.

End Encrypted Message

CLOSE BACK PAGE

Nareema gasped as she slowly stepped back. “Oh my…can you trace who these are between?”

“I ain’t gotta.” Erik answered lowly. “The person whose profile you’re under will always have their username enlarged.”

Nareema’s eyes widened. “No.”

T’Challa snatched for his Kimoyo beads and angrily pressed against the technology.

He answered on the second ring. “Your Highness.”

“Gather the men. I want you at the landing station in an hour.”

The White Wolf darkened his gaze. “What is the mission, sir?”

“Hodari.” T’Challa closed his eyes as he tried to calm his growing rage. “Bring him to me, I don’t care what condition he is in, just as long as he is alive.”

“It will be handled.”

The king disconnected the call.

“What are you going to do?” Nareema questioned hesitantly, cautious of her tone as she could see T’Challa was in no mood for her usual disrespect.

He was literally seething, the anger and ire radiating off his powerful form. “You cannot just arrest her father. It will crush her.”

“The less you know the better.” He said simply, his tone indicating he had nothing more to say on the subject. “I thank you for your assistance.” He looked over at Erik and motioned for the door. “Come.”

Erik hopped off the desk and the two men went to leave when Nareema appeared in front of them. “Wait. Please. I know that look. Just….let us think this through.”

“I have grown tired of waiting, Nareema.” T’Challa looked down at her, a certain gleam of wickedness in his eyes. “I want answers, and I will get them.” A beat. “No matter what it takes.” With that, the king and prince moved to either side of her, leaving the disturbed young woman to her conflicted thoughts.

On one hand, she wondered if she should go after them. She knew that look. The look of a man on the edge, a man who would do anything for the ones that he loved, and it didn’t help that he was being aided by that cousin of his who, much like her, did not necessarily know when to stop.

On the other hand, there was the part of her that somewhat wanted to even assist them. The part that hurt for her best friend who had no idea the heartache that was in store for her. The part that had no idea how she was going to continue to sit and dine and act like nothing had changed between her and her childhood friend when in fact everything had changed.

How she could sit in the face of a woman who’d spent over twenty years being reared by a man who she thought to be a loving and doting father.

Instead, that loving and doting father was the man who signed her and her mother’s death certificate.

And suddenly, Nareema wondered if she should have even returned to Wakanda at all.

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