#except i end up making everything yellow/orange tinted | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovelybarnes · 3 years

Text

saudade- l. laufeyson

pairings: loki laufeyson x reader, mentions of other loki characters warnings: loki tv show spoilers, probably tva inaccuracies, mobius being trusted even though i don’t actually trust him lol, mentions of death, tears, a little sad angst but happy ending, ooc characters?? possible mistakes because i can't read this again skjfj about: requested, DF26 with TVA Loki running into the variant of his dead spouse a/n: thank you so much for requesting! i loved writing the last scene so much

loki has narrowly avoided the tva for years, opportunities much better than this and chaos a lot more chaotic than this have already been caused and passed. so the how and why he has been taken in at this very moment- while he’s eating at one of those fast food places you used to like- is very, very unknown to him. he should know, however; you’ve explained to him the tired concept of time traveling many times before, although the most important things were told to him when he thought you a mere mortal like the rest- something you were not- and could not possibly know something he didn’t- also something very untrue.

but the reasoning for his capturing is not at the front of his mind- although close- his main objective staying on how to get out of this unknown place and go back to looking for you- whether the fragile fabrics of reality and string of the timeline fray and break or don’t. he knows it possible, having seen the avengers do something similar, so why can a god like him not?

he’s ripped many holes, and he supposes the consequences for them are finally catching up to him, a lot sooner than he’d like. in another world, he’d already have you, and, with you by his side, you both would’ve been out long before, or never captured at all. although, he supposes, in a perfect world, you never would have been taken away from him in the first place.

he knows stopping for food he didn’t even necessarily need- or, really, like- was not a smart decision. he’s realizing exactly how not-smart of a decision it was with every passing second that the fools in armor drag him along the halls. the stop wasn’t needed, much less planned, but the memories the greasy food and dirty restaurant brought were too pleasant- a break full of you in the nonstop mission to find you. he could nearly feel your fingers touching his, hear your voice urging him to at least try and your bubbled laugh when he cringes. the fizz of the soda had made him grimace like the first time, except there was no you to giggle at it.

loki nearly thinks it was worth it. nearly.

when the guard shoves him into another room, loki takes a second to examine the exits, barely noticing the man at the desk. the person next to him pushes him further, dropping the tesseract and various stolen pym particles on the desk. loki takes note of where the man puts them so he can steal them back.

the guard stops with him in front of a small elevator, pulling a lever and waiting. loki looks at them, “where am i? get me back right now, i have things i must attend to.” the guard only looks at him, and loki scoffs, “i am loki of asgard, god of mischief and trickery, believe me when i say there will be deadly consequences if you do not do what i ask.”

the guard huffs a small laugh, “i’ve heard that before. we’ll see.”

the doors in front of him part, opening to a room he’s rammed into. he looks back the guard, one foot already out when he’s suddenly back where he was, watching as the entrance closes. he senses the machine before he can have a good look at it, a claw that he’s seen too many variations of beginning to poke at the fabric on his shoulders. he swats it away, standing tall as he glares at the smiling machine. “absolutely not! this is high tech armor, only few of this exists.”

the tech on the machine turns the grin into a frown, pulling back the talons and instead extending another apparatus that scans at his clothing, removing them with a yellow glow until he’s completely bare. he looks down at himself before looking back up at the face, pointing a finger, “now what-”

his words are cut off when he falls through the opening ground, falling onto the bottom room, now dressed in an uncomfortable tan jumpsuit, orange letters reading TVA on the left breast. a bored man in front of him pushes a pile of papers to him, “please sign to verify this is everything you’ve ever said.”

loki ignores his words, pushing it back, “i need to find someone, stop the absurdity.” the man only blinks as a machine whirrs, printing a piece of paper he reaches over to take and place on top of the pile. he hands loki a pen, “sign that too.” loki frowns, “did you not hear me? i have important things to do.” the machine does it again, and the man repeats his motions and shakes the pen in his hand. “that, too.” the god only sighs in frustration and signs, slamming the pen down before he’s dropped again.

another man greets him in a monotone, not even looking at him while he reads off the clipboard in his hands, “please confirm to your knowledge that you are not a fully robotic being, were born an organic creature, and do in fact possess what many cultures would call a soul.” loki’s eyebrows furrow, “i’m not a robot- how many people don’t know?”

“thank you for confirming, move through,” he requests. loki glances at the machine in front of him before stepping through it, a small picture printing after he’s on the other side. loki catches vibrant orange and red with hints of green that overcome any other color. “through the door, please.”

he encounters the same guard from before with a frustrated glare, leading him to what looks like a courtroom, a woman sitting in the middle, reading off a file. “variant L4293, aka loki laufeyson-l/n, is charged with sequence violation 7-20-89. how do you plead?” loki tilts his head at her, “madam, a god- i don’t plead.”

the woman sighs tiredly, “are you guilty or not guilty?” loki’s eyes thin as he observes her. “guilty of… trying to find my wife, yes. guilty of being extremely frustrated, yes. guilty of whatever it is you’re accusing me of, no. not guilty.” loki’s hand curls, trying to use his abilities inconspicuously but dismayed to not be able to. he tries again, only to come up empty as he realizes what is happening. “magic powers are no good in the tva, mister laufeyson,” the judge says absentmindedly. “i prefer l/n,” loki diverts simply, unknowingly catching the attention of one of the attendees. the judge barely acknowledges him, about to say something else before a man jumps up, hand raised, “wait, wait- uh, i have something to add to this. before the court makes a decision.”

the judge tilts her head at the man, pursing her lips before sighing and letting him approach the bench. loki leans in to try to understand the whispers that are exchanged, ending in the judge sending one last look his way before letting him go. “the court finds you innocent- and under agent mobius’ responsibility,” she clarifies, looking at the man and watching him nod quickly. she slams her gavel and motions for the man- mobius, he assumes, to take loki. he stands and awkwardly bows, before going over to loki and raising an eyebrow, “don’t betray me,” he says, words too true to be something playful. loki’s head tilts to the side in slight confusion, watching as the man begins to walk, pausing to urge loki to follow him.

loki ignores the activity through the windows of the hall, choosing to concentrate on mobius. “why did you do that?” he wonders aloud, suspicious eyes following him as his head peeks into halls. “let’s just say it’s a favor, although you’ll be on thin ice forever.”

“favor for whom?” mobius doesn’t answer, turning a corner. loki exhales sharply before following him, continuing to pry as he briefly heeds his surroundings. the sight of a woman in a suit much like mobius’ catches his eye, her back to him but he recognizes the shape of her shoulder and the color of her hair. he looks away, pretending to concentrate on the clock thing on the television but actually chasing the overfamiliar features to a face.

the sound of your voice- something he hasn’t heard in an obscenely long time- craved for so much longer it seems like a lifetime, snaps his attention to what surely must be a cruel joke. he can tell it’s you now. you’re standing there, head tilted at the same receptionist man and chuckling exasperatedly, “come on, casey, we’ve been over this. a fish and a lion are not the same thing-”

“but a lionfish-?” casey asks, and loki is pushing away the guards already, because you’re there, you’re solid and laughing like you used to and you can’t not be real. he can distantly hear mobius’ voice telling the guards to let him go as if loki hasn’t already taken care of that, walking over to you with quick and quiet footsteps. his fingers circle around your wrist first as an assurance, and when you turn, hand still in his, eyes widening when you notice who he is, he pulls you into him completely. your arms wrap around him barely seconds later, finally registering the person in front of you as you squeeze him. “loki?” you whisper, inhaling the same familiar scent of him that you haven’t had in what seems like forever.

“i missed you so much,” he says, hands wandering over your back, touching your arms and your shoulders and your hips just to touch you. “me too- i didn’t- i thought i would never see you again.” your tears are falling on the fabric of his jumpsuit, small tearful gasps escaping your lips while you tug him as close as you can, tangling your fingers in his hair and shutting your eyes at the familiar feeling. “oh god, you’re here-”

“i missed you so much,” he repeats, and you finally notice his words, realization like electricity, making you tremble and sigh softly. “what does that mean?” you question, already fearing the answer and already knowing the effects: the mess of his usually kept hair and the red tint of his eyes, like a sheen of sadness that stains the color of the eyes you have missed for so long. loki pulls away from you only to look at your face, trace the shape of the lips he’d spent hours of the morning pressing kisses to, memorize the curve of the nose you’d scrunch in a laugh when thor was a victim to one of his tricks.

“i have been looking for you, darling,” he murmurs, fingers running over your fallen tears while you notice the shine of his eyes, the tears that enhance the love he has for you. “because i’m…” you don’t want to finish your sentence, and you can tell loki doesn’t want you to either; he scans your features, small smile peeking through the shock and grief.

“i didn’t… mobius didn’t show me that, i thought-” your eyes flicker to the man before settling back on loki, the weight of the ring he’d given you feeling lighter now that it had found its pair. the various eyes on you don’t go unnoticed, and neither does the look mobius sends to the rest of the workers, indicating for them to go back to work. the cold of loki’s skin is comforting to the touch of your warmth, and you find yourself back in the summer afternoons where you would settle with your husband to read books, rubbing cool fingers on the hot of your skin when you felt suffocated by the heat of the sun.

another tear slips from your eyes when you realize you don’t have to imagine anymore, there’s no need to search for your memories and shut your eyes for them to run over you. your lips are on his when you can’t help it anymore, eyes squeezed close and salty tears dropping from your chin when it finally settles that he’s here and he’s yours and he’ll never be gone again.

he’ll make sure of that.

172 notes · View notes

esperanzagalaxy · 3 years

Photo

KEEP SHOOTING KNEES OFF IN HEAVEN KING 🏹🌙........

two versions because i couldn’t pick just one idea when i was sketching and turns out they made for a great diptych! 💙 i first started these in late october and let them sit until january, cause i wasn’t drawing clothes or perspective very well and needed some study to do them justice. i’m happy i did, these sorts of renders are one of my favorite things in the world and i’m very happy to be able to make them... only bad thing was that i thought that being an actual archer would mean that i’d be able to draw these more accurately, and it turned out to be the complete opposite. in my defense, though, quarantine has meant no archery for a year, so... at least i can channel my love for it through my equally undying love for grizzop!

[ID: two digital illustrations of grizzop from rusty quill gaming. they're both made with clean, polished lines and color, showing him striking a pose at the center of each composition. the first one is of grizzop around the damascus arc, with his canon aspect and outfit: bald, dark gray skin, red eyes, long pointed ears & fangs; and he's wearing a dark green coat with his artemis breastplate and a light yellow shirt underneath, along with light brown trousers, boots, arm guards and light shoulder pauldrons. he's shown a little from below, turning a little bit so his body is mostly facing left while his head is turned to the right. he's standing triumphantly, smirking with narrowed eyes and a trickle of green blood on his nose and mouth, with large clouds of dust signaling an explosion behind him, going partially from the right to the left. he has his right hand lifted to the quiver at his back, and the left holding his bow down so it cuts slightly diagonally in front of his figure. it is orange and yellow, and it's carved to show motifs of shining moons, antlers and laurels. his right leg is stepping higher up on something off screen, with the left one standing straight and cutting before his shoes are visible, and a line of rocks can be seen behind him at the bottom. his coat billows behind him and between his legs with the force of the explosion, and there are some tears and dirt on his clothes. the sun is visible high behind him on the top left corner, with clouds seeming to circle around it. everything is tinted orange and brown. the second drawing is on a similar angle and pose, except this time it's on artemis's hunting grounds, a nighttime scene in vibrant blues and greens, with grass visible at the bottom of the picture and tall trees far behind, leaving much of the sky visible -including a crescent moon on the top right corner. grizzop's nocking an arrow and holding his bow so it's seen horizontally in front of him, coming towards us. his stance is wide but on even ground, his right leg to the front and left one going back. his body is again mostly facing to the left while he turns his head to the right, smiling widely with joyful eyes; his piercings, clothes and ears flowing to the right by s strong wind. his clothes are untainted and he's got no injuries. he's wearing a new outfit that consists of a green sleveless shirt with a golden stripe of embroidered antler symbols running down the middle, partially covered by an ornate light blue chest guard decorated with laurels on the borders, and artemis's downward crescent moon with three arrows pointing down behind it. he's got green leggings and high white boots with the same carved-like curves of the riser of his bow, with orange borders at the top and on the front a crescent moon brooch each. his full quiver is at his hip to his right, held by a broad belt that has two layers and is decorated as the rest of his equipment. he has a long blue scarf and four matching ends coming from underneath the belts, all of a long, smooth cloth, flowing in the wind. his arms are bare and there are light freckles on his shoulders and face. /end ID]

#grizzop drik acht amsterdam #rusty quill gaming #rqg #rqg spoilers #digital illustration #fanart #2021 #digital #finished works #can you tell how badly i was starving for designing an outfit and how long it had been since i had had to actually do it?#i love these so much guys they're my phone wallpapers. im so happy to be making art im proud of #shoutout to my borther for posing for me.... though the night one was a frankesntein of him and me in the end dsfdhd

158 notes · View notes

tooruluv · 3 years

Text

Kei Tsukishima x F!Reader ( part 4 )

❝ they were the sun and moon, destined to be together but only ever totally meeting once every hundred years or so. ❞

description: in a world where you only see color when you're in love, you've grown frustrated of the greyscale. but falling in love with someone you barely know was never something you planned. and, him not returning the feelings definitely wasn’t planned.

genre: soulmate au... except not quite. everyone is born colorblind. you can only see color once you fall in love (and it grows brighter until you see full color as the love grows). however, that doesn't ensure a lasting connection. it simply means that love exists in that moment, until it doesn't.

word count: 1,680

warnings/notes: nothin’ crazy!! cursing, of course. this one was fun to write!! next part will be longer, promise <3

prev | next

“ ‘cause i can’t make you love me if you don’t, you can’t make your heart feel something it won’t ” - i can’t make you love me, dave thomas junior

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

For your entire life, you had always wondered what your favorite color would be. You would hear your parents talk about it with their friends, you would hear it between the lucky few who had met their lovers early. But you never had one.

It should be such an easy question to ask someone when you first meet them. It should be the most basic human answer, a description of who they are as a person. You’ve done research, scanned websites and took fake online “what color is your aura?” quizzes, only to become frustrated by the black and white.

You even tried to compare the shades of grey to colors. Your mother would tell you what color something is, and you would try to remember. It never worked.

But now, if someone were to ask “what’s your favorite color?”, you would simply tell them, “yellow.”

“I’ll wait for you after practice.” Tsukki told you the next morning.

He stood directly beside your locker, tall and still as if he never hunched over in his life. He pushed up his glasses and walked away as a way to conclude his statement.

You rolled your eyes. Of all the people on this planet, you’ve fallen in love with him. You looked up as if to ask God, or whoever’s up there, “why?”

Working at Blu for the summer was an easy job. When you weren’t glancing at Tsukishima, you poured coffee and lemonades and sold baked goods. It was good for extra money, and everyone that you worked with was kind and welcomed you with smiles.

Tsukki was sitting at his table, drinking his daily plain black coffee, when your coworker caught you staring. She was a third-year and had been working there since she was your age, so it wasn’t like she hadn’t noticed his attendance.

Wiping her hands on her apron (which are blue, now that you know), she said, “He’s cute. You should ask him for his number.”

You immediately jumped back, pretending to wipe the counter down. “Absolutely not.”

“He comes in here every day.” She said, as if you didn’t already know. “No normal guy comes in to a coffee place in the middle of summer everyday without reason.”

“We have good coffee.”

“Sure. That’s why.”

For the rest of the summer, she made sure to schedule you for the morning shifts and hang back when she sees him come in.

At practice, the girls were all discussing what they were making for the bake sale. It was a fun practice, full of team building exercises and barely any running.

Mai looped her arm through yours as practice ended. She gave you one of her award winning smiles, bouncing on her feet.

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re thinking something.” You said, pushing into her side.

“You’re baking with Kei Tsukishima tonight.” Mai stopped when you almost reached the volleyball practice gym. “Are you excited? Nervous? Do you have everything you need? Chapstick?”

“Fuck you.”

You pushed her away as you headed to the gym to help with the boys practice. She kept making kissy faces towards you. You flipped her off.

Kei Tsukishima was not one to pay attention to little things. He was a big picture man. He focused on how things affected his future, about college applications, about how plays can be executed by the entire team.

Yet, when you walked into the gym, he couldn’t help but focus on a strand of your hair that kept sticking to your mouth.

“Are you coming or what?” Tsukki adjusted the bag on his back. He stood at the doors, leaning on one. You were picking up some extra balls for Kageyama and Hinata.

“Coming, coming.” You waved goodbye to the dynamic duo.

The walk was mainly quiet. Yamaguchi left before you two, claiming that he had a lot of homework to do. You didn’t know about that.

“You don’t have to stay after, you know.” Tsukki said. You looked up. “You don’t have to stay after practice to help those two. You already are helping us enough.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Why do you do it?”

“Hm?”

“Why do you come to our volleyball practices?” He kept his eyes straight. “You come from your practice to help us with ours, and that just sounds ridiculous to me.”

“It looks good on my college app.” You told him. It was his turn to look at you. “And Ukai has been close to my family for a long time, so it’s hard to say no to him when he asks for a volunteer.”

“That makes sense.” He said. “I couldn’t do it.”

“What? Have two practices, or volunteer for Ukai?”

“Both.”

You chuckled, nudging him with your side. He kept walking, but he had a smile too. He wasn’t so dark and gloomy as people thought.

He had a gorgeous smile.

The rest of the walk was in silence again. It was already dark, and the moonlight made him look ethereal. Tsukki really could be compared with the moon, you decided.

Every once in a while, you two walked too close and accidentally bumped into each other. Or your back of your hand brushed his. It just ended up in little laughs between you both.

And, before you knew it, you were standing in front of your house.

“This is me.”

“I am not wearing this shit.”

“Yes, you are.”

You were trying so hard not to cry laughing, holding up a pink apron that your mom used. You already had a matching one on. He looked at it as if you just offered him a can of dog shit for breakfast.

“You could not pay me to wear that.”

“It’s this or get shit all over you.”

“I’ll take the shit.”

Sighing, you reached to force it on him. He moved back, narrowly avoiding your attack. One more try ended in the same result. You were giggling now, and he was smiling.

“Just…” A struggling pull over his head. “Put…” A push. “It on!” And your arms were around his back.

The position was awkward, but both of you were laughing too much to notice. You had your arms wrapped around his waist, chest to chest as you tied his apron around him. He stood with his arms crossed as he let you put the fucking apron on.

“There. Look at you. So pretty.”

He pushed up his glasses and looked down. “Must be why you’re in love with me.”

“If you keep pulling that card, I’ll be sure you don’t get credit for any of these.”

“Now you’re just being cruel.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Tsukki, there are literal instructions. You follow them.”

“No shit. My question is, what the hell is softened butter?”

“Oh my god.”

Soon enough, the two of you were into a rhythm. You were baking brownies and cupcakes as if you did it together every day. Conversations came natural.

It was nice.

It wasn’t until you noticed the brown specs of cocoa powder on his nose did you realize how close you were standing. You were to his right, mixing whatever was in your bowl at the time, But you could feel his warmth from beside you.

He could feel you, too.

“The brownies are brown, obviously.” You said in the middle of the silence. “The cupcakes are brown with black and orange sprinkles, and white frosting. I thought I should tell you.”

He was silent for a minute. You thought that maybe you were annoying him with reminders that you were in love with him, or maybe you should’ve kept it to yourself. But then, he turned to you.

“You said that my eyes were golden brown.”

“I did.”

He was standing far too close. He was standing incredibly too close. And he was staring into your eyes for far too long. You couldn’t conjure up any reasons to hate him, or get rid of your feelings. Why would you want to do that when he is standing beside you, warm and brilliant and glowing.

Fuck.

“What color are my glasses?”

“Black.”

“And my jacket?”

“Black.”

Now he was standing directly in front of you. You didn’t know exactly when you turned, but you had. He was inches from you. His lips were inches from yours.

“And the apron?”

“Pink.”

He was leaning in. There is absolutely no way that this is happening.

All you had to do was lean in, and you could get it over with. Get it out of your mind and gone forever, along with the stupid colors that remind you with every second that he can’t see them back. All you had to do was press your lips to his…

You could feel his breath on your face. Your heart hammered your chest and everything froze at once.

“You must be Kei Tsukishima!”

You jumped back, bringing your body back to your mixing bowl. Your mom entered the kitchen, pajamas on and a smile plastered on her face. You pretended nothing was happening.

“Yes, ma’am.” He greeted. As if nothing was happening.

As if nothing was happening. Because nothing had happened.

“Mom, I know that it’s late.” You started to explain, but she quickly stopped you.

“Hush now. You spend as much time as you need. Nice to meet you, Tsukishima.” She sent you a wink, heading up the stairs.

You closed your eyes, trying to forget what just happened. But, when you opened them, you were faced with the worst thing that could possibly happen in that moment.

The colors gained a little bit of hue. His pink apron contrasted brighter against his black jacket. The orange sprinkles gained a little bit of tint. The greyscale filter lifted a bit more.

You wanted to bang your head against the wall. Fuck.

tag list: @vhskenma @elianetsantana @mini-eggs-reads @ysasian @hhwanggu @i-stole-your-juice-box @definitelynotbianca @denkithunder @smuttyanimeslut @yourlocalbabybird @theydy-madamonsieur

156 notes · View notes

starlightbydaybright · 3 years

Text

Bloom

Ace x Reader

They say love can be as fleeting as fireworks. Dazzling and bright one second, then extinguished by the darkness in the very next. But Ace wasn’t too sure if this feeling of his will dwindle as quickly as it came...

Year after year, it had always remained the same.

On that one special night in the middle of the summer heat, festivities would light up the decks of the Moby Dick. For what reason, no one was entirely sure, and when asked, a vague response would generally follow. Some says it’s to celebrate victory at some large fight years ago. Others claim it’s just their way of cooling down and relaxing from all the discomfort lingering in the air. Whatever it was, it didn’t really matter. At least not to Ace. What did matter, was that every year, your attitude towards the celebration remains the same. It seems as if you had a never ending plethora of excuses. One year, it’d be that you were feeling sick. Another, you’ll have a bunch of work to catch up on, even though none of the crew were given work a week prior. And sometimes, you’d just be already asleep, or at least that’s all Ace could tell from the dead silence coming from your locked room those nights.

But this year was going to be different, he vowed to himself. He was going to get you out of the room, one way or another, even if he’ll have to drag you by force. Now, Ace wasn’t completely heartless and ignorant to your needs. He knew you were shy and most definitely could not muster the confidence to mingle with the entire crew above deck. That’s why this year he took the time to plan out every single detail you could possibly use as an excuse to get away. Ace most definitely wasn’t a think-before-you-act person, so his efforts this time around was certainly commendable. Kicking out the newcomers that wanted to snag a seat in the crow’s nest, he secured a spot away from the crowds for you. Those newcomers could try again another year, plus, seniors first right?

When night fell and the jovial commotions only steadily increase, Ace couldn’t help the giddy look on his face as he headed towards your room. The majority of the crew were already above deck so the halls were unsurprisingly empty, making for a quicker trip to your cabin. Stopping outside your door, he knocked a few times, which was met with a muffled cry of surprise and followed immediately by a short sigh. The door opened slightly, and your face came into view.

“Ace...?” You questioned, a look of regret quickly dawning your face, realizing rather quickly what he was up to.

“S-sorry but I’m really not sure if I could attend this year either...” You apologetic tone was quickly cut off by Ace.

“I heard there would be fireworks this year. You always wanted to see those right?” He tried to contain his smirk when your eyes widen slightly in response.

That faint glitter in your eyes were gone as soon as it came, replaced by your typical anxious demeanor, “W-well... yes, b-but I don’t know... there’s just too much peop-“

Ace was quick to cut you off again, this time a grin clear on his face, “We got the crow’s nest all to ourselves tonight.”

While you were busy blinking in disbelief and asking how, Ace merely laughed and took the opportunity to grab you by the wrist and lead you through the hallway. Though your frantic, albeit quiet, calls for him to wait, he took the lack of resistance from your side as a sign to keep going. Eventually those were replaced with soft sighs of exasperation, to which Ace only smiled wider at.

The path to the crow nest was crowded with partying crew-mates before you two actually reached your destination. Settling down in the lookout, you yet again let out a sigh, though this time a sigh of relief, for getting through the mob.

“I’m not really sure if-“ Your uncertainty was gone in a flash and quite literally. Just as those words had left your mouth, a loud boom in the background had you turning to look behind you. The first round of fireworks had already begun, and the once pitch black sky was painted in streaks of nearly every color imaginable. Flowers of red, gold, green and blue blossomed in the sky before their lights were extinguished. Only to be replaced immediately with more and more fireworks that shoot in seemingly endless streams into the night.

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes wide in amazement. It’s not as if it’s some kind of once in a blue moon miracle, but fireworks were truly rare. Gunpowder usually went to the use of guns or cannons, so to actually use it for entertainment was a privilege of the wealthy or grandiose of a major holiday. You’ve read all about it in books and seen the photos, but nothing could compare to the real experience. None of the words could describe how the loud sounds would fade into background noises when your eyes are entranced. How the fireworks could brighten up the night sky and dull out even the brightest of the surrounding stars. The images and memory would be burned forever into your mind, that you were sure of. But even then, you didn’t want this to end.

Ace wasn’t looking at the fireworks, at least not completely. He could see them through the reflection in your eyes, but mainly he was staring at your wonderstruck expression. Just as you couldn’t stop looking at the blooming lights, Ace couldn’t tear his gaze off of your face. Your mouth slightly agape, but lifted at the corners to form a bright smile. Your wide eyes glistened in fascination, taking in everything you could. To him, you looked practically ethereal.

“Thank you...” Your voice caught him off guard.

It was Ace’s turn for his breath to get stuck in his throat when you turned to him with a beaming smile. The corners of your eyes crinkled in undeniable delight, and a smile stretched across your face. The new fireworks bursting into light behind you only served to emphasize your features, with warm hues of red, orange, and yellow dancing across your skin. But most important of all, was that your smile was aimed at him. He wondered to himself if the soft tint of pink on your cheeks was due to the lights, or if he had imagined it. Or perhaps...

Did Ace called you shy before? He wasn’t too sure of that right now. As you turned back to looking at the never ending fireworks, he finally managed to turn his head away, in an attempt to cover his burning cheeks. And it most certainly wasn’t due to the summer heat.

How do you make dividers- I’m literally so nervous since it’s my first time publishing, now time to find a way to delete my account and disappear off the face of earth forever :’)

This is for @tooweirdforyou and their Summer Collab event. Hopefully I did this right since I feel like I didn’t include much summer theme except the fireworks and simply mentioning that it’s the middle of summer 😞

If there’s any confusion about (Y/n) and Ace’s relationship, they’re kinda like close friends on the ship. Whether or not there’s any secret mutual pining... that I’ll leave up to your imagination 😊

Also, please excuse any ooc-ness of Ace in the story, I love him as a character, but my inability to write meant I couldn’t do him justice 🥲 rereads for the hundredth time and cringes at all the smirking and grinning I wrote

#one piece #one piece reader insert #one piece x reader #one piece ace #ace x reader #syd’s summer festivities

44 notes · View notes

ggukachuwu · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1 | Guardian of Gold | Jeon Jungkook

linktree | ko-fi | twitter | Instagram — support me on these places <3

Pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader

Genre: fantasy, alternate universe, illegitimate heir! jk, witch descendent! reader, angst, fluff, dual dimensions, magic, strangers to lovers

Warnings: nothing, except for mentions of the grandmother acting strange and the fictional use of various religious/spiritual practices for a fictional spiritual practice.

Synopsis:

In a world adjacent to our own, long lived the Guardian of Gold.

During your summer vacation, you decided to spend it with your quite eccentric grandmother. However, when you get there a series of strange events, odd dreams of different dimensions, and late night escapades with an illegitimate heir to some magical throne start to haunt you after you get your hands on an old book you found under the floorboards of you grandmother's home. Or was it really a dream at all and your grandmother has been hiding some dark and gruesome secrets that has followed your family for centuries?

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'M THE HEIR TO POWERFUL WITCH BLOODLINE FROM ANOTHER DIMENSION?!!?!?!?!"

A/N: sorry for the wait between the prologue and chapter 1 ahaha. I've been kind of busy lately with work and other things. Also, I won't be using any Korean honorifics in this fic just because I don't want to misspell anything. Jungkook should be introduced in Chapter 2!!!

Your grandmother had been acting odd when you had arrived at her home a day earlier. It was almost like she was hiding something from you based on the way she seemed to hold you at arms length.

Granted, your grandmother had always been rather odd.

As a child, you remember watching her prance around her home chanting in some language that sounded made up.

Even the blessings or talismans she would regularly give to you and your cousins when you visited were different than what your friends would get from their grandparents. Your friends had always said it looked like she was giving you curses.

Of course, you didn't like that. You considered the things your grandmother gave you to be precious and they always gave you a warm tingly feeling that you would describe as happiness.

But regardless of how she's always been, this time was very different than what you were used to.

And that may be due to the fact that you were an adult now and not the wide-eyed child you once were. You were a grown woman who matured and wasn't so childish anymore, something your grandmother probably wasn't used to.

Still, her behavior made you feel odd.

The next day, while your grandmother was visiting a friend of hers, you stayed at the house.

You had spent most of the morning alone in silence, well...more like asleep. Lunch time was when your day started. You took a shower and ate some food.

You groaned, flinging the arm that was resting over your eyes to the floor. Oh, how incredibly bored you were. Your grandmother had been gone for a few hours and you weren't sure when she would be getting back. There was absolutely nothing to do in the house and it was so quiet.

"Ugh...what should I do?" you mumbled to yourself as you stared up at the ceiling.

After a few minutes of staring blankly into space, your eyes focused on something in the uncovered rafters. A tiny piece of what looked like the corner of a piece of paper stuck out just slightly from the rafter above you.

Curiosity filled your mind and bones like wandering ants, so you jumped up to find a stool to reach the piece of paper.

Unfortunately, the stool is just a little too short for you to be able to reach the piece of paper and you have to stretch on the toes of one foot to be able to reach it.

Your fingers brushed the piece of paper, wiggling it so that it falls off the beam. It flutters down into your hands, landing softly. The piece of paper is tinted a yellow-tan color, probably from age. It's crumpled and creased in places.

The piece of paper is actually bigger than you thought it was at first. Since it was crumpled up it looked smaller, but it's about A5 size.

As you opened up the paper and flattened it, you noticed the fading ink etched onto it.

The words written were an older form of Korean that you had a bit of trouble reading, but you were able to make out what seemed to be directions.

Under the floorboards near the alter lays the key to our success.

The directions were odd to you. Key to what success? You didn't understand.

Regardless, you went to the one place you could think of: your grandmother's prayer room. That was the only room with an alter.

In that room she kept the shrine that was dedicated to passed family members. It was also where she kept the books of your family history and everything about what exactly it was that she practiced.

You entered the room. It had a nice smell, likely from your grandmother's morning prayer where she lights her incense sticks and candles.

There was also a bit of fruit sitting on the alter and a glass of water. An offering to your ancestors. Pictures and nick-knacks rested on the table top, an apple or orange resting in front of each one.

Near the alter, under the floorboards.

Under the floorboards.

While holding the piece of paper delicately in your hand, you shuffled around the room near the alter looking of a loose floorboard. It took a bit of time, but in the corner next to the window, a board creaked and wobbled when you put your weight on it.

You had been trying to pry the floorboard up for the past thirty minutes, it felt like. You just couldn't get your fingers under it enough to get it up.

What could you do?

Standing up, you looked around the room. There was nothing that would be of use to you, except maybe something on the alter, but it would be disrespectful to your ancestor and grandmother to use anything on there.

Next you made your way to the kitchen in search of a spatula or something flat enough to get under the board.

Luckily for you, you had hung the spatula over the sink so it could dry after you washed the dishes you used to make your lunch.

You snatched the spatula and flung of any of the excess water still on it and swiftly went back into the prayer room.

Crouching down, you shoved the spatula in between the floorboards, praying that you wouldn't ruin it, and angled it just enough to get it to catch under the loose board to pull it up enough to get your fingers under it.

With a bit of creaking from nails coming out of their holes, you were able to lift up the loose board.

It was dark under the floorboards, so you pulled your phone out of your back pocket and turned on the flashlight.

There, at the very bottom of the hole, sitting on top of the dirt foundation under the house, was a wooden box. It had a dark wood stain, black metal hinges, and black embellishments.

You used your flashlight to look around the hole for a moment longer, just to make sure nothing was going to jump out at you and bite you before reaching down and pulling the box out of the hole.

Thankfully, there was no lock, just a little latch to keep the box closed.

You sat back and crossed your legs, resting the box in your lap. With a deep breath you glanced at the piece of paper that lead you to the box.

Under the floorboards near the alter lays the key to our success.

Who was the "our" the paper referred to? Your family? And success in what?

With a slight tremble in your fingers, you unlatched the box and lifted the lid.

The contents of the box was not what you expected. In the box was a single book, an old one, for that matter. It was made in a traditional book binding style, with yellowing pages, and curling edges.

You picked the book up, setting aside the box it was once contained in. You turned the book over in your hands, examining it. There was nothing really special about it. You weren't sure how this was supposed to be the "key to success."

The inside of the book was written in an older version of Korean, much like the piece of paper was, but thankfully you were still able to make out the gist of what the first page said:

The Guardian of Gold and the misfortune he caused for our kin. His reign must end and his empire must fall.

16 notes · View notes

ears-awake-eyes-opened · 3 years

Text

Wedding Colors (Part 2)

(Hayffie ❤️🧡💛💚💙💖. An exploration of Effie’s evolving character as she faces past and present personal intensities while making preparations for Finnick and Annie’s wedding.)

9:00—mentoring. The buzz that Haymitch had been feeling was killed even before Peeta kicked him out of the hospital room.

The boy was angry. “What if I’d murdered the people who were trying to help us because I didn’t know they were trying to help us!!? Do you think anyone would be asking me to frost a cake for Finnick’s FUNERAL if I’d slit his throat!? I can’t even look at you right now. Just go.”

It didn’t help that Haymitch’s eyes looked so much like Katniss’s.

At least Peeta was becoming more lucid. Haymitch took the boy’s justifiable anger as a positive sign and respected his request to be alone.

At the other end of the hospital, he opened the girl’s door to find Johanna plugged into Katniss’s IV. They both looked up but neither moved an inch.

“Jealous?” Johanna sneered.

“Not my drug of choice, sweetheart,” though her comment was spot-on. To Katniss he asked, “Are you okay with this?”

“It’s fine.” She winced, and he glared at Johanna.

“What? She says she’s fine. Plutarch took her for a walk yesterday afternoon. He probably just held her leash too tight.”

“I can tell them I don’t need the morphling anymore...” Her threat wasn’t far from the truth, and Johanna knew it.

“It’s nothing personal. Plutarch has us all on leashes. Even your *mentor* there.” Johanna looked pointedly at the communicuff on Haymitch’s wrist.

Her mockery pissed him off.

“Plutarch talked to you yesterday?” he asked Katniss.

“Yeah. He’s planning a circus, and he gave me the job of looking happy.”

“You. Happy? I would’ve cast somebody else.”

“I can do it. Since the circus is Finnick and Annie’s wedding.”

“Right. ...I’m going to walk away now and pretend I didn’t see you two... bonding.” He motioned to the IV then said to Johanna, “If she’s screaming in pain later, I’ll be ripping that port out of your arm myself.”

Sarcasm dripped along with the morphling. “Sobriety has had such a calming effect on you.”

“Something for YOU to look forward to soon.”

Johanna’s expression was steady as stone. ...Almost. Nobody would have noticed the subtle flinch, except for an addict.

“Katniss, I’ll see YOU later.” Haymitch closed the door behind him.

So the kids knew about the wedding before he did. What’s the point of wearing this *shackle* on my arm if Plutarch doesn’t tell me anything?!

Haymitch made his way back to Peeta’s room and stood in the corridor looking in through the one-way mirror. The boy was sitting at the art table which orderlies had brought in days before. Delly Cartwright was by his side. They were painting with watercolors. Peeta’s brush stroked out an ocean scene with cresting waves and sea life. With the paintbrush in his hand, Peeta was calm. In that moment, he seemed almost like himself.

The damn communicuff buzzed, and a message from Plutarch appeared on the screen. “Change of schedule. Report for exercise at 10:00. Details await you there.”

Being outdoors sounded better than being shut out by the kids or seeing them in pain. They were still alive, but they were messed up. Like me... Or worse.

Mentor. Johanna’s ridicule settled in his bones.

***

10:00—exercise The staircase to the surface had been rebuilt quickly after the bombing. The tight control in 13 produced efficiency. He’d give Coin that much credit.

Climbing the stairs was more exercise than he’d get in the yard. By the time he got to the top, he was breathing hard.

“Now that’s a familiar sound.” Effie’s voice came from the shadows and lit him up.

He moved toward her. “Me out of breath? Typical.”

“Last night...”

“Not typical. ...And more fun than this.”

He was surprised to see her. She wore a heavy coat and carried a large canvas sack over her shoulder. Additional bags and a set of leaf scoops were on the floor near her feet. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going for a walk in the woods —with you. Plutarch’s orders.”

Haymitch was confused, but too amused to not play along.

“I see you’re bringing a weapon.” He tugged at the pruners which were hooked through a belt loop on her pants. “Are you gonna protect us from carnivorous trees?”

“Just me, sweetheart. You’re going to protect yourself.” She held out a second set of pruners.

As he took them, he lingered on the fabric covering her hand. “Is this the latest fashion?”

“Cloth is more practical than lace, but must EVERY stitch of fabric here be gray or white?!” She held out a pair of work gloves for him too.

“If I’m wearing these, then how am I supposed to touch you?”

“No touching, honey. We have a project to do. Coin is giving us two hours to gather enough foliage for the district to make wedding decorations.”

“I heard her announcement asking for volunteers. I just didn’t think she was talking about me.”

“You are here at MY request.”

He took a half-step toward her. “So you’re giving me orders to spend two hours in the woods with you without touching you?” He took another half-step and felt the buzz return as their clothing brushed.

“We aren’t in the woods yet,” she said, “You can touch me now...”

The hair on his chin grazed her temple. “Where?”

Warmth flooded her. “You choose.”

He stepped back. “Sorry, sweetheart. If you get to make me a gardener for two hours, then I get to make you wait at least that long.”

“Haymitch! Don’t bother turning me on if you’re just going to make me wait!”

“Well, aren’t YOU the pot calling the kettle black. ...Am I turning you on?”

“You KNOW you are—“

“I have your trackers.” They were interrupted by a security guard, armed with an automatic rifle equipped with a spotting scope.

“Lex, this is Haymitch. He’ll be the other person accompanying us.”

“Glad to meet you,” the guard said as he lifted Effie’s pant leg to fit the tracker on her ankle.

“Wait a minute. This guy’s coming with us, AND he gets to touch you?”

“No need for envy. ...He’ll be touching YOU too.” Effie smirked.

The guard proceeded to clamp the second tracker onto Haymitch’s ankle.”

“Just what I need, another shackle.” He was tired of being treated like a prisoner, and he was sick of sobriety. Even if he could take the tracker off and leave, where would he go? His house was still standing, far away in 12, but that place was just a shell. Nearly every person he cared about who was still alive was in 13. And his duty was here. He’d been waiting his whole life for this stand.

Haymitch scowled when Lex’s hands skimmed Effie’s hip as he clipped a communicator onto her belt loop.

“Look, man, this is just standard procedure. I’m not interested in touching your girlfriend.”

“I’m not his girlfriend.” “She’s not my girlfriend.” They spoke in unison, then looked at each other.

“Sorry. I just assumed... I’ll position myself in the center of the search area. Don’t wander more than 50 yards from me in any direction.”

“Or what? You’ll shoot us?” Haymitch asked.

“It’s not our policy in 13 to shoot civilians.”

“See there, even cave people can be civilized.” Effie muttered under her breath, talking mostly to herself.

“If you move too far out of range, I’ll message you through the communicator. Stay together.”

Haymitch pulled on the gloves then picked up two canvas sacks and the leaf scoops. Stay together. For a moment, it sounded better than ‘stay alive��

***

In the weeks since the bombing, the exit from 13 into the woods had been cleared and secured. Effie was grateful to not have to crawl through bent metal and broken blocks of cement.

As she stepped outside, a gust of wind whipped her in the face. It carried the fragrance of cedar, like a hope chest, and the smell of approaching rain. Dry ground indicated that none had fallen recently, and she wondered when it would come. Hopefully not before noon! She unzipped her coat just enough to reach inside and pull her sunglasses out from the pocket of her shirt. The lenses tinted the world rose. That view was more familiar.

The guard split off from them to stand watch at the top of the ridge.

“We have three sacks. Let’s fill each one with foliage of a warm color: red, orange, and yellow.” Wasting no time, Effie marched straight into the woods, following a narrow trail.

“The High Priestess of Nature is on a mission,” Haymitch teased from behind her.

Much of the vegetation around them was foreign to him. 13 was far north from the woods he’d forayed into as a boy, breaking laws in order to spend time at the lake. Other plants were the same.

“Uh, priestess... is there poison ivy in the Capitol?”

“Poison?” She stopped in her tracks, imagining a coiling plant about to sink its fangs into her. “I don’t know. What does it look like?”

He pointed to a vine near her feet, and she leaped back, nearly knocking him over. He steadied them both with a hand on her waist.

“THAT!?” she exclaimed, “Well, EVERYTHING here looks like that!”

“Because you’re taking us into a thicket of it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“I AM telling you.”

“What will it do to me?” she whispered, fearing that talking too loudly might wake it up or something.

“If you don’t touch it, then nothing.”

“What if I touch it?”

“See how the leaves are shiny? That oil gets on your clothes and transfers to your skin. It gives some people a rash that itches like hell.”

“Maybe YOU should walk in front.”

“Why? So you can look at my ass?”

“Let’s call that a side benefit to the primary goal of not getting poisoned!”

He reluctantly let go of her waist, turned around, and led them out of the thicket.

They found a wider trail and followed it to a tree with large leaves, red as cranberries. Haymitch recognized it as the same variety growing behind his house. He didn’t pay much attention to that tree at home, except when it looked like this. It’s strange... a person can be around something so often but not think about how remarkable it is until it’s changing.

The wind whipped up again, and leaves were falling like rain. Effie was already scooping them up and filling the sack she’d been carrying.

“Wait,” he said, “Look...”

“What? More poison?”

He pointed to the sky, and she tilted her face up to a shower of red. She slid the sunglasses up to her forehead so she could see the true color. Thin beams of sunlight streamed through the branches. She squinted her eyes but didn’t close them.

“In the Capitol, nature is manicured — controlled. In Capitol Park, all the trees are planted the same distance apart. When leaves fall, a crew of Avoxes carts them away before the next morning. It’s nothing like this. This is wild.”

“...And familiar.” With a gloved fingertip, he touched her windburned cheeks then pulled a red leaf from the top knot of her kerchief. Over her coat he traced from her heart to the small of her back, following the path of the tattoo buried under her layers.

The memory of him holding her there the night before was a freight train barreling through her. “Ohh... this is why we agreed to not touch each other.”

“Yeah, about that... I lied.”

The leaf scoops dropped to the ground, and she interlaced her hands behind his neck. “Just for a minute, alright? Just give me a minute...” She kissed his cut lip, soft like she’d wanted to at breakfast. “Does this hurt?”

StoppIng this is what’s gonna hurt. He kissed her like when he was trying to get her out of his system. Only he knew better now, and he kissed her anyway, slow and certain.

She felt it like madness. “My hands were on my body this morning,” she murmured, “I pretended they were yours. In all the places you touched me. Haymitch... I came so fast.”

“Jesus.”

“I’m trying to control this. But...” I’ve wondered about it so long. “I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

In defiance of gravity, he pulled back from her. “Here’s what’s going to happen... We’ll collect the leaves, and we’ll figure out the rest later. Because if you say another word now about making yourself come, then I swear I’m going to lay you down right here—“

“And you’ll fuck me. ...Say it. Tell me you will.”

He could feel himself bending to her desires. It was unsettling, and erotic. “Yeah. I will. To hell with whoever’s watching! But it’s not just the guard. It’s probably Coin; it may be Snow; it could be anybody. I’ve already shown too much of my hand out here, and the clock is ticking.”

The reminder of Plutarch’s words and of the arena made her refocus. She caressed his neck as she let go.

They channeled the intensity into the work, meandering through the woods along animal trails. Scurrying sounds in the bushes made Effie’s heart race, but she avoided a heart attack like she evaded poison ivy.

“Scurrying things are mostly lizards, field mice, and foraging birds. The real threats are the things you DON’T hear coming.”

“WHY would you say that?! With all of the words you have to choose from in this situation, THAT is what you say to me!?!”

“I’m trying to ease your mind. Good ol’ Lex is up there watching from the ridge. We’re gonna be fine.”

They scooped and clipped foliage from a dozen trees. “Every leaf we collect must be freshly fallen or plucked from the branches. Nothing brown or decomposing is acceptable.”

“Nothing decomposing?! Who’s making these rules anyway?”

“I believe you called her ‘The High Priestess of Nature’.”

“What do you think is happening to leaves when the colors change? Poetry?”

“Maybe poetry. Why not?”

“This is a deciduous forest, sweetheart. These leaves are all dying. There’s nothing poetic about it. Death is a knife in somebody’s back or poison in her veins. And then nothing.”

“If that’s all it is, then why did you tell me to watch the leaves fall? And why did we feel so alive?”

He had no answer.

***

Returning to the fortress, Effie carried a sack across her back and the scoops in her hands. He slung the other full bags over his shoulders. Neither of them had much breath left to complain about their burdens, but they talked some.

“You’re stronger than you’ve let on.”

“I used to credit cycling classes at Capitol Spin. Now it’s endless staircase climbing in *the dungeon*.”

“What about the strength inside you? Where does that come from?”

“I... I don’t know. That’s not easy for me to feel.”

I feel it. “Thanks for getting me outside today.”

“Will you come to the dining hall this afternoon?”

“I’m all thumbs when it comes to making things like garlands. My parents’ craftiness skipped my generation.”

He seldom mentioned his family. There was so much pain there. She wanted to know more. She wanted to know everything. But if she pushed, he shut down. So she took in his comments whenever they came and tried to piece together a picture of the early life his Games destroyed. The more the images came together, the more protective she felt.

And the more she knew of anger.

She’d always folded anger up tightly and locked it in a box. The act was subconscious. Compartmentalization was happening less readily now, if for no other reason than the boxes she’d stuffed unwanted aspects of herself inside were getting full.

“You don’t have to make anything... I’d just like to see you there.” I’m anxious about facing people.

“After lunch I need to check on the kids, but I’ll try to stop by later.”

“I wish Peeta was recovered enough to participate.”

“He’s decorating in his own way.”

“Is he??”

The trail widened, and Haymitch walked alongside her. “It’s Plutarch’s big secret. If I told you, then I’d have to kill you.” His smile was wide enough to show the gap between his teeth. “And that wouldn’t work because I want you alive.”

The wind rushed around them, and she thought again about how easy it would be to let it take her. “Keep those secrets for now. My world has suddenly become rather interesting. I think I’ll stay alive and find out what’s going to happen next.”

15 notes · View notes

2-many-fandoms-cos · 4 years

Text

First day of fall 🍁🍂

This is day one of me using the fantober 2020 prompt list! (I know it’s really late but I like to take my time with my stories, so this year instead of doing one every day I’m gonna try to do it as often as I can while still being proud of my work 😊.

————————

Ship: Shinkami

Finished writing:

Posted:

————————

It was around mid-September and it was just finally beginning to feel like fall. The leaves had began to change colour and fall, and a cool breeze made the fallen leaves dance happily through the air. The sun was just beginning to set, the sky giving everything a soft orange tint. The purple haired, cat loving teen walked down the sidewalk, leaves crunching beneath the black boots that just passed his ankles. His cheeks were tinted a light shade of pink from the cold. He wore an oversized black hoodie and white knee high socks that were mostly covered by his black jeans. He walked in the direction he was headed with a soft sigh, his breath easy to see in the cool air. Thoughts filled Shinsou's head as he continued to walk before being taken out of his thoughts by a familiar voice "Shinsou!!!!" The electric blonde teen said as he ran towards him, pulling him into a tight hug. The boy had some of his hair pulled into a cute ponytail, and was wearing a yellow Pikachu hoodie as well as a pair of black skin-tight ripped jeans. He was wearing black and white checkered vans and a black choker with a gold lightning bolt on it. Shinsou sighed softly "hello Kaminari." He said gently, softly wrapping his arms around the blonde. Denki giggled softly before pulling away and grabbing his hand "come on!!" He began to run happily, dragging Shinsou behind him. Shinsou groaned softly and Denki giggled softly once again "come on Toshi!! You don't even know where we're going!". Shinsou sighed "so far it involves running, I already don't enjoy it." He said with a soft chuckle. Denki giggled once again before pulling him towards a field "we're almost there, don't worry!" He said cutely. Shinsou's cheeks turned a slightly deeper shade of pink, and though he would deny it, it wasn't completely from the cold anymore. Denki pulled him to a stand that looked almost like somewhere you would buy tickets at a carnival except much less colourful. Denki talked to the person at the stand but Shinsou didn't really pay attention to what he was saying, being a bit distracted by the beautiful view. The sun reflected off the leaves perfectly and you could hear the quiet sounds of birds chirping in the distance creating a nice serene environment. Shinsou was once again taken out of his thoughts by the loud blonde. Denki giggled softly as he pulled him towards a bunch of trees, holding an empty basket in his free hand. Shinsou gave him a confused look as Denki sped up "where are we going?" He questioned. "To the trees!" Denki giggled happily, beginning to run. Shinsou groaned but let himself be dragged to the bunch of trees that seemed to be placed in neat rows. Denki giggled and handed Shinsou the basket he then walked over to one of the trees and happily pulled an apple off of it before placing it in the basket. Shinsou chuckled softly "so this was your big important idea that couldn't wait and had to be done today or else something bad would happen?" He questioned. Denki giggled cutely "well this isn't the 'whole' idea.." he said before frowning a bit "why..? Do you not want to...? We.. we don't have to do this if you don't want to..." he said a bit sadly. "Sorry, this was probably a dumb idea..". Shinsou's eyes widened "no! Wait, it's not a dumb idea.. I just wasn't expecting it!" He said quickly. Denki smiled slightly "a-are you sure..?" He questioned softly. Denki's smile came back completely accompanied by an awkward giggle at the quick nod he'd received. "Haha.. sorry for that.." he mumbled softly, grabbing another apple and placing it in the basket with a small sigh "uh- do you like apple sauce and apple pie..?" He questioned softly, hoping Shinsou wouldn't question anything. Shinsou wanted to question it, he wanted to make sure he was okay. But he figured that it really wasn't his place. "Yeah, I do.." he said gently, "well good!" Denki said happily. Shinsou grabbed an apple off one of the trees, placing it in the basket. Denki gave him a small smile and placed a few more he'd picked into the basket. "We can fill the basket, but you know what's awesome?! Most places would just put them in a bag, but here we get to keep the basket!!" Denki said as he and Shinsou continued to pick the apples. Shinsou nodded softly, enjoying the sound of his voice and honestly just the company in general. "Sorry if I'm talking too much... I've been told it gets annoying..." Denki mumbled. Shinsou softly shook his head "it's kind of relaxing, for once I don't feel like I'm being pressured into talking.." he said gently. Denki smiled brightly “Well good!” he said happily “I don’t like being annoying... and I never want you to feel pressured into doing anything.” Shinsou smiled just slightly and gave him a small nod, gently pulling another apple off of a tree and placing it in the basket. they soon reached the end of the row of trees, the basket now completely full. Denki smiled softly and grabbed Shinsou’s free hand, walking quickly towards the place they’d entered, though before they could get back there he turned, now walking towards a small path. Shinsou tilted his head slightly, wondering where they were going since it was slowly beginning to get dark. the stars could just barely be seen through the oranges reds and pinks in the sky. the path lead to a big open field. The grass was slightly orange tinted from the sky and there were a few areas that looked almost like gardens that were mainly filled with marigolds and blue orchids. Denki pulled Shinsou to an area around the middle of the field before sitting on the ground and pulling Shinsou with him. he took the basket of apples and placed it next to them before laying down and once again pulling Shinsou with him. he didn’t let go of his hand and happily stared up at the sky. Shinsou was a bit surprised but looked up at the sky in awe, he then turned his head to look at Kami, blushing softly as Kami turned his head as well. they stared into each others eyes, Denki’s glowing a beautiful gold colour in the sunlight and Shinsou’s turning a soft magenta colour. both boys cheeks had tinted a warm pink colour as they stared into each others eyes, both enjoying the view.

#my hero academia #shinkami #shinkami fanfiction #shinsoubnha #mha hitoshi #bnha denki #denki kaminari #shinsou hitoshi #kaminari denki #hitoshi shinsou #gay ships #bnha #mha #mha fanfiction #fanfic #sunset

12 notes · View notes

hummingbirdstars · 4 years

Text

I’m gonna create an AU

I think I’m gonna make an Undertale AU. Has anyone already used the name HelperTale? I hope not, because I want to!

So, the basis of HelperTale is that monsters and humans in that universe are distinctly aware of the multiverse, and try to stay as up-to-date on it as possible. As I have a lot to talk about, the rest will be under a read more bar.

Some kids are born with Aptitudes, where they can get special jobs and livelihoods based on the AU’s part as a multiversal helper.

One Aptitude is for Protecting the Home, where they are guards and protect the AU’s inhabitants from viruses (Fresh), corruption, and destruction.

Coding Aptitudes, for another, can be put into several categories- one to help hide the AU’s code (mainly from Error) and creating firewalls to keep their world safe. Another Coding Aptitude would be Searching, where those with that Aptitude would scour the Mutliverse for those in dire need of Helping.

And this brings us to the main point of the AU- Helping. Helpers are categorized into four, and are placed in groups of four. The first is the Coder, someone with a mix of Helping and Coding Aptitude. These Coders take in all the cries for help and find the first one that their group can safely handle. The second is the Imposter, someone with incredibly good acting skills who can go and take the place of the person calling for help- just for a little while, so they can recuperate. The third is the Healer, who stays in the Home AU and cares for the healing person- from the other AU, the one who called for help- still with me? The final person in this group of four is the Backup, someone who’s mastered all three Aptitudes, so they can take over in case someone of the other three is busy.

Backstory is something I’m still coming up with, but I have a few ideas. First, Aptitudes only pop up when a kid turns 8 years old. At this point, the Seekers (another Aptitude, where they spend years honing their senses so they can detect other Aptitudes) will go to the house of the child and look at their Aptitude. Depending on what it is, the kid will go to one of several special Villages as a new home, a new life. They can still chat with their families, but only those with Aptitude may know where the Villages are.

Second, children spend their entire childhoods in their Village. Every single kid gets a little USB slot (special-made for the AU) installed in their skull. This is in case someone gets corrupted while on a mission or on their duty, it heals and restores everything. These slots are covered up with code, and only the kid can wipe away the code on their own head, nobody else’s.

Third, anybody can cry for Help. It’s meant to have that same feeling the Player has in Undertale, you know, the *You call out for help, but nobody comes. Except those in HelperTale do their best to make sure that somebody comes. But you can only use this once in your life, probably some sort of bull-crap code destiny thing that combines with all the other powerful AUs- if it’s truly a life-changing thing, that a lot of things depend on it but the person making the choice is a wild-card, that would constitute for a Cry For Help. Humans, Monsters, it doesn’t matter.

Fourth, once someone cries for Help, their world’s data (and their personal data) is given to a Coder who can help. The Imposter will plug in that data through the USB and temporarily remove their own personal memories, to properly play the part. Time will be frozen thanks to Determination. The Imposter will take the place of the person who cried for help- let’s call this super depressed person who needs help Zach, for simplicity- will take the place of Zach, and Zach will be brought to HelperTale.

The Coder will watch the progress of the Imposter- if they can eliminate what was hurting Zach, they will do it. While the Imposter lives out Zach’s life, so nobody thinks anything’s wrong, the Healer will take care of Zach and fix him up the best they can. This means mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually, and any other way needed. Once Zach is all healed up, the Coder will send a message to the Imposter- who by that time is hopefully in a good enough state of mind in Zach’s life to take it- and if all goes well, time will be frozen again. Zach will be given a very in-depth rundown of what went on in their absence, and Zach and the Imposter will switch places. The Imposter will regain their own memories, and Zach will be put in HelperTale’s logbook.

Of course, not every ‘job’ can go as smoothly as I just described. A lot of things can happen, and these things usually depend on the state of the AU. Imposters can get hurt, killed, tortured, and more. This is what they sign up for, using their Aptitude to help others. If the Imposter is compromised, the Backup will take the Imposter’s place, and the Healer will help both the Imposter and Zach.

But if monsters and humans are so different, how can Imposters look like them? Coding again, years of acting and specialized classes, and learning how to do everything imaginable, just in case. Magic is flexible, the world runs on code, and every single person with Aptitude at some point must be able to learn every single kind of magic. Yes, every single kind. Because of this, everybody is more-or-less equal, and thanks to knowledge and opportunity, there was never a war and Monsters and Humans are completely equal.

(I may even create a comic based off of this, if I get a drawing tablet- I even have ideas for the main ‘cast’, including my own OC who would be a Healer- who could also, with small modifications, act as an Undyne if need be!)

Sans: would have an identical twin. They would be Comic Sans (Sans, main ‘character’ like everyone is used to) and Sans Serif (personality of Underswap Sans). They are completely identical, but Comic has glasses and Serif strongly enjoys his bandana. They have twin Aptitudes of Helping. Comic is the Imposter of his group, and Serif is the Backup.

Papyrus: There is no Papyrus, not really, instead his name is Times New Roman, Roman for short. He’s snooty and arrogant, because he’s good at his job (being a Papyrus) and he knows it. Given an accident or two and a character arc, he could end up being a very likeable character indeed. He is not in the Sans’ group, but in his group he is the Imposter. In school, he was very popular.

Alphys: Her name would be Ally here, and she’d be tinted more green than yellow. Again, if she needed to play an Alphys, simple enough. She has a Coding/Helping Aptitude, and is in the same group as the twin Sanses.

Undyne: The younger sister of my OC, and has a crush on Ally. She has a Protecting Aptitude, and takes pride in her virus-destroying capabilities. Thanks to how thorough she is, she is swapped out between the AU itself, and protecting Villages. She’s well-traveled, still brash at times, but very open and accepting.

Toriel: Red Magic (Determination and Time) teacher. Called Miss Tu-Toriel because of how wonderful she is. Is the collective Mom of the Helping Village, and takes her duties very seriously. Very old, very strong, and is the last line of defense if anything gets into the Village. Offers cooking classes as an extra-curricular- after all, there are plenty of worlds out there, this one included, where cooking is a valuable skill, is it not?

Asgore: Teaches Cyan and Orange (Stopping and Moving) Teacher. Is called the Dad of the Helping Village. Never fought with Toriel, and is happily married to her with their children (Asriel, Frisk, Chara, and Kris). He enjoys gardening, and offers it as an extra-curricular- after all, there are plenty of AUs that deal with plants, and I’m not simply talking about the Floweys!

Asriel: Different entity to Flowey- Flowey’s are rather different, I’ll get to them in a minute. He has fire magic, primarily. As an adult, he teaches basic classes on all seven main types of magic. Also teaches yoga, is surprisingly flexible.

Chara: They teach classes about dealing with LV and EXP, on both ends of the spectrum and everything in-between. They also teach classes in dealing with murderers, and using words to their advantage. Can be bribed into extra Determination classes with chocolate.

Frisk: They teach classes in code and rule-breaking, such as manipulating souls and buttons and the like. They also teach classes that talk about dealing with any kind of mental illness, whether seeing them or pretending to have them, or actually having them. They are very kind and well-liked, but are terrifying when they actually get mad.

Kris: They are the Caretaker. If an Imposter is in a bad spot, they can usually count on Kris to create a distraction (somehow) and help them get out. Kris is powerful, and gives fighting lessons. They have never been beaten, ever, not in anybody’s memory.

Gaster: Has a Seeking Aptitude, but has an affinity for Coding. As a result, he invents all sorts of things that have to do with Aptitude, hoping either to speed up or slow down the process- nobody knows why. Is the older brother to the Sans twins, and was devastated when they popped up with twin Helping Aptitudes. He sees them more often than their parents, but it’s the thought that counts!!

Flowey: Floweys are all over the place. They are made of different flowers so most can’t leave, but those who look even vaguely like buttercups usually have an Aptitude. No matter what, every single Flowey has to have a flower name, it’s tradition.

I’ll probably come up with more, but this is what I have for now!

#new AU #long post oops #UMTV #sans #papyrus #toriel #asgore #frisk #chara #asriel #flowey #gaster #undyne #alphys #HelperTale

9 notes · View notes

artifexfake-sofa · 3 years

Text

I want to tell you a little about the undertale project. The game is already dying out, but somehow I should make my own contribution, for the first time in my 4 years in this game.

And its name: Rock and Roll Sympfony. (there may be mistakes, my English is still bad)

Description of AU

Rock and Roll Symphony is an alternative world of undertale, in which time is ahead of ours, but people's mores are sliding into an even greater abyss. People have found a way to enslave their own people through what everyone likes and listens to at the time of the events of the world. Music became a way of enslavement. The only music allowed to be listened to was the classic, in which low-frequency soundtracks are inserted that change the perception of people. Subsequently, people decide to get rid of the monsters that vehemently "propagated" everything that was not pleasing to people. War is unfolding and monsters are imprisoned in dungeons.

Frisk escapes from the horror of the human world by complete accident and his own inattention, but the world under the ground intrigues and pleases her much more than the world of people: harmony and freedom reign here, from which Frisk first demolishes the "tower". Frisk, after recovering from injuries sustained during the fall, begins to explore the dungeon, telling the monster the unpleasant truth about people and about the genres of music that she owns. The monsters tell her about what she did not know. I don't want to go back, I want to stay in the dungeons.

But one turning point makes Frisk think about going back. It comes when the Boatman is taking Frisk to Snowland ...

"Half of the way the boatman was silent, the road was long, slow and boring. There was almost no current. Frisk thought about what was happening on the surface, the thoughts of her mother and her friends left to their own devices did not give her rest until now Jos-Lowe takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

—Want to come back? - the Boatman begins the dialogue, as if reading the thoughts of young Frisk.

- Huh? Oh ... I don't know ... I miss my family, friends ... They were left alone.

- And ... What prevents you from returning? When you reach the New House, the King will find a guide on how to open the barrier. And business, nothing at all.

- Yes, just a little ... - Frisk laughs, having already forgotten what a smile is for 18 years in hell. But the smile immediately disappears, she remembers what she had to go through. - It's not even that. I don't want to go back to hell. My society ... Far from being an example of beauty.

- You know, when we were still on the surface, I heard the following phrase from you: “We create our own destiny”. So why don't you follow it? I do not know what exactly is going on there, but I can say for sure - you are not alone in your ideas. And if you start, others will be drawn to you. There may not be many of you, but if you do not back down, if you are full of determination in your hearts, you will definitely manage. And if there are many of you, even more so. You yourself can change your fate, and maybe even the fate of the world and the country .... The main thing is to start.

Frisk doesn't answer, thinking. The boatman stops at the shore. The girl comes out and, having paid, drags into the Ruins. She really wondered what she could do in order to change her own fate and the fate of other people, the fate of her family. "

This seemingly strange and short conversation fills her heart with hope and her soul with determination. She finally decides to act in full force.

Detailed plot and scenario of the world in development

Characters

Protaganist Name: Frisk Jos-Lowe

Race: Human

Location after the fall: Ruins

Soul: Weak Determination *

the soul of weakened determination tends to both fade and flare up. If the owner of the soul loses hope and faith, the soul goes out, acquiring a dirty reddish color, almost not shining. If the owner of the soul, on the contrary, is full of hope, faith, spiritual strength, the soul flares up with blood-wine, pulsating and shining brightly. The soul is not resistant to fusion, the fusion of the souls themselves are fragile, perish and fall apart quickly enough.

Appearance:

(detailed reference in development)

Other main characters

! not all characters have received their appearance yet, some are at the stage of early concepts and are superficial, some do not have an appearance at the moment, the article will be supplemented and updated!

Name: Asriel Dreammoor

Race: monster

Place of residence: Ruins

Soul: white, with a red light inside, inverted. *

* Each monster has a light inside, referring it to a certain type of human soul. Inside Asriel's soul is a red light, determination.

The soul of a monster cannot be completely filled with the power of a human soul, the soul melts under the influence of force, after which it dies

Appearance:

Name: Toriel Dreammoor

Race: monster

Place of residence: Ruins, New House

Soul: white, with a blue light inside (soul of decency / honesty), inverted

Appearance:

(detailed reference in development)

Name: Asgore Dreammoor

Race: monster

Place of residence: Ruins, New House

Soul: white, with an orange light inside (courage), inverted

Appearance: A goat-like monster, 215 centimeters tall, an average physique man without prominent features of the figure. The coat is white, interspersed with orange on the face, near the eyes, cheeks and horns, on the body there are spots on the forearm, shoulder, torso, under the ribs. Fiery red hair, short haircut, small beard. Long, curled back horns. Emerald eyes. The king most often wears two types of clothing: an official classic black suit with black shoes and an orange shirt, a tie with a magnolia image. A raincoat of neutral gray with a bright scarlet image of a magnolia on it.

His second suit looks like soft brown pants and a soft lilac sweatshirt.

(detailed reference in development)

Name: Flowey / Bath

Race:??? (presumably a monster, refers to the type of plant Ipomoea Batat, it is not possible to say for sure if Flowey refers to a monster)

Residence: The root of the flower garden is in the Ruins. It can move around the entire dungeon except for Snowfall, does not withstand low temperatures. "Eyes and ears" in all areas available to him

Soul- -

Appearance:

(detailed reference in development)

Name: Chara Dreammoor (before the fall of Hirsch)

Race: Human

Location after the fall: Ruins

Burial site: Ruins

Soul: Rotten Determination *

* the soul, at first glance, is no different from the usual, canonical determination, except for the huge black spot of obsession, shining from within. Any soul, both human and monster, can rot.

Appearance: not designed, only mentioned in photographs in the Drimmoor family album

Name: Sans (Jonathan)

Race: monster

Place of residence: Snezhnegrad

Soul: white, with a blue light inside (decency / honesty) and small inclusions of rot. Jonathan's rot is laziness and frivolity.

Appearance: A low, skeletal monster, about 160 centimeters tall, in a formal black suit with vertical white stripes, a white shirt with a raised blue collar and a relaxed black tie. A black trilby hat appears on his head in time. The inside of the eye sockets is painted in blue magic. It seems to many that he "tints the lower" eyelid "" because of the appearance of the eye sockets. No pupil

(detailed reference in development)

Name: Papyrus (Ryan)

Race: monster

Place of residence: Snezhnegrad

Soul: white, with a blue glow inside and small blotches of rot. Ryan Rot - Vanity

Appearance: a tall skeletal monster, about 190 centimeters in height, in silver armor, dirty and worn in some places. The skeleton does not deny itself and still wears a red long scarf, frayed at the ends. On the "face" of the skeleton, a "smile" is frozen, which makes his skull seem extremely welcoming. There is a crack on the back of the skull from a blow to the head. White pupils shine in the eye sockets.

(detailed reference in development)

Name: Undyne

Race: monster

Place of residence: Waterfalls

Soul: white, with an orange light inside (courage)

Appearance: (detailed appearance in development) amphibious monster about 175 centimeters tall, athletic build. Both eyes see. There are scars on his face, and Undyne can open his mouth much more than meets the eye. Nice girl face. The nose is present, as are the gills. Hair is collected in a cockle. On the hands, from the hand to the elbow, there are fins, on the fingers there are membranes and rather long claws. Scars and pieces of small scales have been torn off along the body in many areas. She is dressed in a loose hoodie and jeans, buttresses on her legs.

Belongs to the class of the ancients, has quite a lot of power

(detailed reference in development)

Name: Muffet (Rosie)

Race: monster

Place of residence: Hotland

Soul: white, with a yellow light inside (courage). There is rottenness

Appearance: monster spider, about 155 centimeters tall, three arms, one pair of legs

Long, waist-length, soft pink hair, two pairs of sky-blue eyes. A predatory smile with large fangs, the "skin" is pale pink, a pair of sharp horns protrude from the head. She is wearing a long scarlet haori, underneath a T-shirt and white shorts. The fingers on the hands are abnormally long, with a large number of rings. On the back there is a birthmark in the form of a cross. Wears nothing on his feet

(detailed reference in development)

Name: Mettaton

Race: monster

Place of residence: Hotland, Labaratoria

Soul: white, with a faint blue light (patience)

Appearance: not designed

Name: Alphys

Race: monster

Place of residence: Loboratorium, Waterfalls

Soul: white, with a green light inside (kindness)

Appearance: a small lizard-like monster with a height of 163 centimeters. It is a white-colored leopard of Diablo Blanco with red eyes. Alphys has a mutation, due to which soft needle-like outgrowths go from her head to the coccyx, along the spine, from large to small. She has a rather neat and "juicy" figure, hidden under a voluminous black dress and lab coat.

(detailed reference in development)

World locations

Locations are still divided into:

Ruin

Snowland

Waterfall (Waterfalls)

Hotland

Laboratory

New house

Added to them:

New Los Angeles (part of the human world)

Summit Abbott

Lost city (part of the dungeon)

Ruin

The structure of the corridors is almost the same, the traps are removed as unnecessary, one room has been added. The walls resemble brick in color. The room where you can buy Muffet donuts in the game canon now houses a small Muffet art gallery, there is also a table with muffins and tea.

(The spiders offer to buy paintings for a fairly large sum, but when you buy you will be offered muffins and given the painting. When she meets Muffet, she will thank you for your purchase and invite you for tea.) The walls are in ruins in cracks, through which Flowey vines sprout. The ceiling is covered with vines, and there are many fallen leaves on the ground. The paths are paved with stone that has aged over time. The conservation room is in a much better condition, instead of signs with inscriptions, stained glass windows with the symbol of the royal family (Magnolia). In the middle of the hall there is a huge tree up to the ceiling, large branches of which have grown all over the ceiling, and thin branches, like those of a birch, hang down. The leaves are scarlet. At the edges of the room there are bunches of Flowey vines that bloom profusely. There is still a save star between the steps to the exit. Instead of a pile of leaves, there is a small music bench. On the two side walls there are three columns, on which notes are written in a spiral. There is a small vine wall next to Toriel's house. If you move the vine aside, you can see a secret room, dotted with a field of bright blue flowers. There is a tombstone at the wall opposite the entrance. It reads "Chara Dreammoor. Beautiful daughter and best sister. 2040-2067"

The Ruins is home to many small monsters. Froggits and many others, they do not change their appearance. In the Ruins, Frisk still meets with Nabstablook. This is a small ghost of a slightly blue hue, with pink eyes. He reacts to Frisk in a very frightened way. After a little dialogue about who he is, the ghost dissolves with a bell ringing.

Snowland

The difference in appearance is created only by the large number of frozen trees and large flowers, sometimes even higher than the houses. The main square is hung with Chinese lanterns attached to houses and fir trees in the main square. The square is the brightest street in Snowland . On the outskirts of the city there is a bright casino "Golden lake", next to it is a hotel with the same name. Grilby owns both his Grilby Bar and the Golden Lake Hotel and Casino.

Minor Characters:

Grilby's appearance:

The appearance of his daughter, Fuku Fire:

Fuku and Grilby are ancient monsters and are quite powerful. Fuku helps his father at the casino.

Waterfall

There are many tall shrubs and Echo Flowers in the Falls. The corridors are not very different. There are many crystals on the "ceiling", creating the appearance of the stars. There are many reservoirs with water lilies and waterfalls. There is a pier near the mill where you can meet the Boatman or the Monster. Undyne's house is two-story, with a circular roof. There is a small field of echo colors next to it.

Minor characters:

Boatman:

a tall monster in a long black robe with a hood. He has abnormally long arms and a stooped back. His face has never been seen, it is hidden behind a mask of an animal's skull. Branched horns stick out from the head, and the pupils, glowing white from under the eye sockets, always look inquisitively. Many monsters call him the Wendigo, a man-eater who hunts for human sins. Who knows, maybe he is ...

Monster Kid:

a small lizard-like monster with yellow-red scales, wearing a large brown sweater.

Hotland

Not fundamentally altered. There are a lot of Flowey vines on the platforms, in some places, the most dangerous, she created dense railings and handrails. Hotland is almost empty. High temperatures do their trick and it is very difficult to be there.

Laboratory

The laboratory is in much better condition. The laboratory is bright, clean, fully equipped with everything Alphys needs for experiments. Amalgamates look like Siamese monsters. Bodies have a denser structure, when asked about their state of mergers, they vaguely answer about good health and they have all the conditions for a comfortable existence.

New House

The corridors have not been modified. The windows of the houses glow, the panoramic view of the castle seems to be brighter.

Many small monsters live in the New House.

Summit Abbot

Overgrown with plants and grass, rather dark, filled with a large number of stones, it offers a view of the now far from sunny Los Angeles, in which it rains almost all the time.

New Los-Angeles

Frisk's house and the location that the monsters will enter after liberation. Los Angeles is divided into two parts: New and Old. Old Los Angeles resembles the architecture of the 20th of the 21st century, it is considered a poor area. New Los Angeles is a high-tech neighborhood with skyscrapers and flying cars. A huge number of people live in it, who are far from all happy with the release of monsters.

Lost city

The story is told on behalf of the shocked Frisk, who accidentally found this place.

"When Asriel and I got there, the first thing we saw was a large number of cages. It seemed to me cages at first glance, only several hundred times larger than a normal bird cage and made of stone. Some were suspended from above, others from below ... Many more stairs! They connected almost every building!

There is almost no land, all these cells. And, if there is land somewhere, it seems to be suspended on huge chains from the nearest walls. And, which seemed strange to me, it was light there, although I did not see a single source of illumination, it was very windy there ... But, perhaps, we made this wind by opening the passage. Oh, there were still ribbons! Or not ribbons ... As if scraps of something, there were a lot of them ... There ... There was also something like a mosaic with a legend signed under it ... I didn't make out much ... It was looks like Latin ... But ... With some other dialect ... If not for my panic that neither I nor Asriel know this place, I would have been able to try to make out and translate at least something through associations ... "

6 notes · View notes

paulieshore · 4 years

Text

Obey Me / SCM Au Series

Words: 3492

Warnings: None

Characters belong to:

· Voltage: Star Crossed Myth

· Obey Me! – Shall We Date

Mc is Y/N Aka Goldie. I’ve set gender as female, may gender bend if you please. ENJOY! Will try to upload regularly.

Chapter 2: Destiny

It felt as though you were floating for years, endless stars cascaded. Drifting and whirling around you, no pain, no thoughts, nothing.

The view was mesmerising; bright colours of yellow, pink, orange and blues.

Down below you glimpsed another body floating by.

Is that me?

Am I dead?

As you observed yourself, it couldn’t help but be noticed how much skinnier you’d become. How pale and broken your face looked, I really am dead, aren’t I?

“No child, not yet. You are sick, rest…”

“rest….”

“rest…”

The crowned ones’ voice; his tone soothing the anxiety in your mind, pushing you to the edge of blissful slumber.

Slowly you opened your eyes, met with an unfamiliar ceiling. This wasn’t your room, or any room in the House of Lamentation. You couldn’t move your body, eyes just fluttering.

“Y/N, your awake finally.” Simeon’s voice sounds nearby.

You try to lick your dry lips, “Wh-where am I?” in almost a whisper.

“The House of Gods. Its actually here in the human realm, I will explain later” Simeon gently sits next to your unmoving body “rest my friend, you need too.” As he tucks the sides of the blanket beneath.

From the corner of your eyes, you caught that blue haired one, rise from a seat furthest from you and leave.

Who is he?

You don’t know how long you’d been lying there, the only ones you’d seen in the time was Simeon and Luke. Occasionally catching a glance of that quiet one peeping in and out. He never spoke to you, always on looking with such sadness in his eyes.

Until one day, you had most of your strength back, and really needed a pee.

Simeon and Luke hadn’t come by yet, there was no bathroom that you could see inside this strangely well organised room. You sat up and admired everything around. Books, Satan would have a field day in here you thought to yourself. The floor around the bottom of the bed was surrounded by water, like a mote around a castle. Soft browns and blue, the occasional brass vases near the walls filled with books. There was no carpet in this room, but blue tiles, reminded you of the blue haired one. All of it familiar and yet not.

Funny enough as you thought that, he walked in.

“Ah… Your fully awake now, that’s good. Didn’t mean to barge in, I’m sorry” He slightly bows to you.

“I-it’s quite alright, I get the feeling as though this might actually be your room” you nervously laugh.

His eye brow rises slightly, “do you remember?”

A fleeting look of confusion crosses your face, and you shake your head.

“Never mind then, I have some more medicine here for you. Please take this, its probably best if you didn’t touch anything in here or wonder outside of this room.” He gracefully walks over the water surrounding the bed and places the vile of liquids next to you. “We will accommodate you with your own room soon.”

“I, uh, I’m sorry. This may be too much, but I really need to, ya know….” You reach out to stop him from leaving.

“Uh, of course, your human now so it can’t be help. If you can walk then follow me, I will direct you to the lavatory.” Luckily for you he spared you the embarrassment of having to fully state it.

He stayed quiet most of the walk, and waited for you outside the washroom. This place was ginormous, much bigger than the house with the brothers. You stepped out of the washroom, and bowed your head to him “Thank you for waiting, I’m done now.”

“Clearly.” He turns and makes his way back from where you two started from.

…

“I’m sorry but, do we like, know each other?” You try to catch a peak at his face.

He glances down to the right, “No, we don’t. How could we. I am a god; you are a human.”

You stopped in your tracks. “God?”

His pace slowed to a stop and he turned to face you, “Yes, god. I am Huedaut, God of Aquarius.” He says deadpan.

That’s right the crowned one had said so himself; you thought back, “So tell me Mr. God sir-“

“it’s Huedaut, you may just call me that.” Cutting you off and striding back towards the room.

This guy, he’s nearly as bad as Lucifer. You roll your eyes inwards, just as you caught up to Huedaut, you heard other voices approaching.

“Hue, I see your walking Goldie! Hiya Goldie, how ya doing?” The soft brown haired one runs up and pets the top of your head.

“I’m not some kind of pet, don’t pat me like one!” You snap.

“Yikes, this one looks cute and playful but she’s a biter!!” He laughs and hides behind the other one with brown hair and hazel eyes. They were both wearing the same type of uniform, unlike Huedaut’s, their uniforms had black.

The short brown haired one offered his gloved hand, “I’m Dui, God of Gemini, and this playful one hiding here is Ichthys, God of Pisces. Welcome.” His cheeks tinted pink as he dipped his head, shaking your hand.

“Y/N, my name is Y/N, not Goldie.” You firmly shake and glare at the one called Ichthys.

He gives you a mischievous grin, “You’re going to be fun to play with.”

“Why would you want to dirty yourself playing with filth!” Another voice approached.

You turned around and remembered this one, briefly recalling his name was… Scorpy?

“Scorpy, is it?” You ask unsure, gesturing your hand out to shake.

Everyone freezes, Scorpio looks at your offered hand in disgust, Ichthys breaks into a roaring laugh.

“NO, listen here stupid woman. I am a God, God of Scorpio; You dare insult me?!” You felt your body begin to tremble with every word that left his mouth.

“Ha, ha Scorpy, see I told you it would stick” Ichthys holding his gut still laughing.

“I’m going to kill you, you brat!” Scorpio goes to grab Ichthys, missing him.

Ichthys laughs some more and sprints away, Scorpio tailing not too far behind.

“Please don’t think poorly of Scorpio, he is respected among all the gods. Diligent, determined and hardworking, that’s why he’s the Vice Minister of the Department of Punishments.” Dui says with a look of admiration.

Department of what now?

Huedaut gently grabs your shoulder and leads you back to his room, “You need to rest, no more for now.” He opens the door and lightly pushes you in, shutting it once your inside.

What the what….

Demons, Angels, Witches, Strange evil dark dude and now gods… Just when you thought you were getting a grip of reality, things just piled more and more.

Hold on a second, how long have I been here?!?!

Back in Devildom around a table in Diavolo’s castle-

“Y/N is making a slow recovery; the King is adamant she is not to return. He also advises you to send Solomon back to the human world and end this ‘program’ of yours” Simeon sips the tea before him “I’m sorry it has come to this.”

Lucifer shifts in his seat, “who is he to declare anything over anyone here, and advise Diavolo on the things that happen in his kingdom. Kivy is King of the Celestial Realm, not of Devildom!”

A hand is placed on Lucifer’s forearm “Thank you, Lucifer, for your support. However; considering what has transpired a fort night ago, it may not be wise to tempt destiny. The seal that imprisoned the Dark King has been broken, and I suspect the others will feel his presence regaining. Devildom may not be as safe as it once was.” Diavolo rubs his temples in slight annoyance.

“Indeed, darker forces are brewing once again. We can not afford any liabilities at this point.” Barbatos nods his head in agreement, next to Diavolo.

“I told you from the start this would fail, there is a reason why there are three realms now. The old days are long since gone.” Luke barks out.

“Be calm Luke, we should thank Diavolo for the thought. Its not everyday demons wish for a more peaceful path.” Says the one sat between Simeon and Luke.

“Karno, God of Cancer; I thank you for coming all this way. Please do take care of Y/N, she has become quite special to all of us here.” Diavolo slightly bows his head, to the one called Karno.

“It is my job as Vice Minister of Wishes to delegate in political matters, as well as granting wishes to those who are deserving of its reward. It is the least I can do.” Karno bows his head back to the prince. “I have always watched over her growing up, I will continue doing so.”

“I wonder why it is you here and not the Minister, himself…” Lucifer mocks.

Karno smiles kindly “Leon is very busy, and with recent events he is needed elsewhere. I hope we have not offended any of you, as vice minister my presence alone is appropriate. You of all people should know this Lucifer.”

Lucifer said nothing, he stood from his chair, bowed to Diavolo and took his leave.

“I see he has not changed.” Karno says with a sigh. “He may be the avatar of Pride, but if he does not let go of the past, pride will be his demise.”

“Same can be said about Leon though, no?” Luke leans over and whispers to Karno.

Back at the House of Gods –

You were getting acquainted with more of the gods, “Okay so let me get this straight. Department of wishes- grants wishes to humans who wish upon stars, and you guys punish humans?”

“Yes, that’s it, well done Goldie!” Teorus claps his hands and beams his prince charming smile.

Rolling your eyes, “…. and angels are like you, except created as servants to serve the gods?” You looked over to Huedaut.

“Yes, I guess you can say that. Angels deal with the underworld politics and the guarding and passing of mortal souls, reporting back to us with more sensitive priorities. We as gods only intervene on the basis of chaos. In simpler terms, war. When the world is on a brink of unbalanced crisis, too much of one thing isn’t a good thing.” He finishes not looking up from the report he was reading.

You began pinching yourself to triple check you hadn’t fallen asleep again.

Ichthys pats your shoulder “It’s true cutie, you’re not dreaming. I mean you’ve been living with demons for a while now. Some who were previously angels themselves, might I point out; yet you doubt us?” giving you a pouty lip.

“No, no, sorry it’s just, I mean… I’m still taking everything in. I feel way in over my head is all…” You deny with a look of guilt.

“Typical for a mere mortal, nothing but ants beneath our boots. Must be nice to be so air headed, no care in the world” A strong voice rings through the common area following a gust of wind. Entering with it; a tall man with a powerful aura clinging to him like second skin, and a smug yet very alluring face.

“Ah Leon, you’ve returned.” Huedaut closes his report and makes his way to him.

You’d been awake for 3 days, and were introduced to some of the gods. There was a total of 13 that you were told about, 12 who came here sometimes from the Celestial realm to work. So far you had met 6 (now 7), one (Scorpio) who made it obviously clear he didn’t like you at all. The ‘crowned one’ you called, was the King. King Kivy of the Heavens aka Paradise aka Celestial Realm.

Leon’s piercing stare sent shivers down your spine; you didn’t even need to be within his reach. You could feel his power, this one must be very strong, his stare alone reminded you that of a predator.

“Goldie, this is the Minister of the Department of Wishes, Leon, God of Leo!” Teorus taunts a bow towards his superior.

“If you’ve all had your fun toying with this thing here, why don’t you go and start doing your jobs.” He then snaps his fingers and a chew toy appears. “Here you go, that should keep you entertained.” Tossing the toy in front of you before turning and leaving with Huedaut.

You were fuming!

They may be gods, but the audacity of some of them, not even the boys back in devildom treated you with such manner. Made you wonder if some of these lot were the real demons.

“Relax Y/N, Leon’s always like this. Not many can challenge him, next to the king. Leon is one of the strongest in the heavens.” Ichthys picks up the toy at your feet.

“Wow, and look at you! Looks like you know how to use my name!” Didn’t mean to come off as rude, but the tone of your voice was less then amused.

Ichthys rubbed the back of his neck, “Well next to Zyg, Leon, and Scorpy your moody face is quite scary too, ha-ha.” Waving the toy at you.

Back in the House of Lamentation –

Lucifer had announced at the dining table that you would not be returning to devildom in the near future.

“WHAT!?! Y/N is like family now, they can’t just take her from us!” Mammon practically throwing a tantrum over the news.

Every-one had such sullen looks on their faces, no one even touching their food. Not even Beel.

“I disagree and agree” Satan declares, “considering what’s happened it is for her best interest. However, should she not be allowed the choice herself. It’s her life, where have they been the last year for her? We’ve been watching out for her, kind of feels like they’re saying were not good no, strong enough to protect her.” Slamming his hand down on the table, shaking everything on it.

“Yea! She’s our Y/N, who do those bastards think they are!” Mammon pacing back and forth before abruptly stopping to join the bashing.

“Idiot, Gods obviously” Asmo frowns at Mammon. “Duh!”

Lucifer stands from his seat, “As much as I agree with you, its hard for me to admit this but…” He swallows hard.

Everyone looks at Lucifer more than curious.

What he says next stuns everyone.

“We failed to protect her again, how many times do we have to fall in order to get one thing right. I like Y/N, I really do, but if Diavolo voices his resolve… Then that’s it.” He closes his eyes, remembering you the morning of the trip.

Dashing about your room, which was an utter disaster. Like many things when it came to you, but your eyes shined bright, twinkling. Your goofy smile popping up in his mind every time he entered the home, never before did he have such thoughts. Since you came to them, you brought with you; chaos. In a good sense, a feeling of belonging, of home. These late days without you around felt lonely, something none of them have ever really felt, or dared to admit anyways.

Belphie, “He’s back though, and he’ll be wanting her dead. Face it, it took everything, everyone had to subdue him then…. This time he’s had time, he’s had a lot of time. They’ll be a war no doubt.” He looked to Beel with worry.

“She has no idea, does she?” Beel looked down at his untouched food in thought. He had no appetite of late.

“N-no, but I’m sure they’ll tell her. They’ll t-tell her everything…. W-what do you th-think she’ll think of us then…” Levi choked out, looking to Lucifer for answers.

“I don’t know.” He turned around and gripped the back of the chair. “I really… don’t… know.”

Back at the House of Gods –

You were sitting in a room that they cleared for you. It was made very clear that you would be staying here until told otherwise. You asked how the others were doing, not to your surprise they didn’t say anything. Only telling you they were demons, filthiest of the filth. You didn’t like them bashing your friends, they were kind enough to you, you had no quarrel with them. So, you stopped bringing them up, you didn’t want them saying hurtful things about them.

It made you believe in Diavolo’s exchange program now more then ever. You didn’t want to judge anybody by what they were, but rather by who they were. How they treated you and others, judge them by the actions, not their race. Always choose kindness, you reminded yourself.

Sitting on the bed, playing with the D.D.D in your hand. It had stopped working since leaving Devildom, not that you expected it to work. How you wished you could contact them; see how they were doing.

Just then, a knock at your door.

You got up from the bed and cracked open the door, “Yes?”

There was another one outside your door, wearing a wishing department uniform, with a red tie. This one looked awfully familiar, you’d definitely seen him before.. Or perhaps they all just seemed similar in appearance, maybe its the uniforms.

“Hi Y/N I do apologise for bothering you. My names Karno, I’m the Vice Minister of Wishes. May I come in?” He gave you a kind smile, his eyes reflecting compassion.

Opening the door wider “Of course, please do come in. Its nice to meet you sir, um is everything alright?”

“That’s what I’ve come to find out and you do not need to be so formal with me.” He enters the room with soft steps “You see you made a wish; I’ve come to grant it.” striding across the room, claiming the seat at the desk. He crossed one leg over the other and knitted his hands together on his lap.

You were watching him carefully, you must know this one from some where.. He just seems… Ah shit he said something, focus…

“A wish? I don’t recall making a wish.” scratching your head.

He gave a belly filled chuckle, “You did just moments ago” he pulled out a folder from within his suit “usually normal humans wish upon a star and we receive their wishes. However, you are a reincarnated goddess, so simply wishing is enough for myself and Leon to hear.”

You remembered the dark one calling you a ‘former goddess’ but from what you were aware, you were Lilith’s reincarnated soul – descendent thing- and she was an angel. Right…

Karna could see the suspicion growing on your face, “Look I understand this must all be very confusing, in time you will find all the answers you’re looking for. For now, you wish to contact the demon brothers no?”

Your face lit up, nodding your head up and down vigorously, “Yes, oh yes I do, please!”

“Unfortunately, I cannot grant that, the king forbids it. Alternatively, you may write them a letter and I can have Simeon deliver it on your behalf.” Karno says sympathetically. “Though I must warn you, even if they write back. There are certain powers around this mansion that forbid anything demonic in, so there is no guarantee. Also; if it’s not too bold of me to say, what makes you think they care?” Karno wanted to test you. He had found it rather peculiar that Diavolo stated you were special to all of them, he wanted to know why.

Was it your connection to Lillith? How much did you know exactly? What all did they tell you, or didn’t tell you. Or did they simply care about you, as you are now. Did they care like the way he cared about you; you’d seemed to have grown up a lot since he’d last saw you.

You had a feeling bringing them up would bring some sort of an opinion, but you didn’t care. You had grown fond of each of them, even if they didn’t write back, you WERE going to write to them.

“I don’t care if they write back or not is what I want to say. Truthfully, all I care about, is letting them know I’m alright. Letting them know I’m thinking about them. Reminding Mammon to stay out of trouble and that he’s not an idiot, telling Asmo it doesn’t matter what he wears, he always looks good. Telling Levi to stock enough snacks, and telling him I’m sorry I can’t aid him on his gaming adventures…” Tears began to fall “Making sure Beel is eating as much as he needs, that Belphie has the comfiest pillows while he naps. Satan isn’t disturbed while he reads and studies and Lucifer isn’t trying to kill them for driving him nuts.” By now you had a steady stream of tears.

Karno stood up from the chair and handed you a tissue “Very well, I will go and pass your message along…”

“I didn’t write anything?” You looked at him through red eyes.

He snapped his fingers and behold, a letter with word for word writing on it “There’s no need to, please rest. I will personally deliver this for you.” He bowed and left you alone.

As he closed the door, the corner of his lips curled up.

So that’s why, he thought…

To Be Continued…

CH1 - Ch3 - Ch4 - Ch5

Thank you for your time, and support! I hope you enjoy the series.

As always, like, comment, reblog and follow - you know the saying xx

check out my other materials:

MasterList

45 notes · View notes

wintersxsoul · 5 years

Text

You Saw Me (13)

Summary: You have the life you’d always dreamt of. The job of your dreams, the perfect boyfriend and the best group of friends. But what happens when that life is not enough and your soulmate is not who you thought it would be?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Don’t hate me for just posting filler chapters every two red moons. I love you.

A/N: My lovely @all1e23 is the beta for this series so give her some love because she has to put up with my infinite bullshit because my brain was fried. A reblog and comment are always appreciated and what feeds my soul to keep writing. I hope you enjoy this as much as I am. Taglist is CLOSED.

“You’ve changed. I like it.” Sam said with pride because he knew something had been suffocating you for a long time, but now you seemed...freed. Since you returned everything was settling down step by step, the relationships returned to be what they were, except Bucky.

The night you arrived, the first person your body was aching to see was Bucky and led by instinct, you showed up where he was. You knew you needed to see him, to feel him as much as he did. You spent hours talking to each other, about what you had missed from the other and about your future. You both came to the conclusion that it was better to start over as acquaintances, in order to rebuild the trust you had. It was hard the first weeks, not being able to text him or see him, but it was worth it.

“I’m glad I changed, I was drowning without noticing, Sammy.” He nodded knowingly and handed you your beer. Normally, Sam liked to go to your place since he liked it more than his own, but this time he insisted in you coming over.

“So, how’s the Met?”

“Big, busy, full of art and people, but I love it. I really do. I miss my students sometimes and my coworkers are not as cool as Nat, but I feel like myself.” You smiled to yourself and looked out of the window, the sunset tinting Brooklyn in warm tones of pink, orange and yellow. As beautiful as Chicago was, nothing felt like being back at home with the people you loved the most.

“How is being a writer going though? When will I read one of your poetry books Sammy?”

“Oh about that.I’m happy to announce that Three Winters will be published real soon. I made it!” You jumped off the couch with a loud Oh My God Sammy! and proceeded to hug him and saying something about buying a thousand copies for him to sign so you could sell them on Ebay.

“We should celebrate and I recall you mentioning that tomorrow is your day off, so there’s no excuse.” You nodded, a sudden fear clouding your mind. You knew celebrating meant meeting the whole group at the usual bar. It’s not that you weren’t excited to see everyone gathered again, it was the fear of seeing Bucky after almost a month of radio silence. You knew it was a stupid thought, but what if he didn’t miss you as much as you missed him?

He told you he would wait for you and the night you came back, he told you again.

“Is there something wrong?” You shook your head and smiled nervously, something Sam decided to ignore. If you had to share something, you would. He knew he couldn’t force you to say whatever was on your mind, he knew how stubborn you were. At that exact moment, you received a text from Nat, your fear only increasing.

Emergency meeting, now. Urgent matter. I’m at yours in 10 minutes.

You showed Sam the text and both of you ran to his car, concerned that something bad could have happened since Nat was not someone to ask for help so openly.

Ten minutes later, you both were climbing the stairs of your block two by two, breathless and worried.

“Nat?!” You called right after opening the front door, she had a key so she could be anywhere in the apartment.

“Here.” You heard her from the living room, her voice like a phantom. You threw everything on the floor and ran to her, stopping dead in your tracks when you saw her face. She was crying, all her mascara smudged and mixed with her tears. She had an expression you had never seen on her before, and that scared you. Sam was behind you, silent, studying the situation from afar. You approached Nat and kneeled in front of her, placing both of your palms on her cheeks. She looked at you with her big green eyes and you understood. You understood because you had seen that same expression a million times on a different face.

“Wanna tell me about it?” You asked carefully, your voice low so only she could hear it, although Sam went to the kitchen to make himself busy.

“He...He’s gone, Y/n.” Nat smiled, placing her hand on her heart, trying to make you understand what she meant.

“Who’s gone, Nat?” She closed her eyes and sighed, opening them again slowly.

“Buck. She erased him.” You suddenly understood. You understood why she was so closed to love all these years back, why she looked at Bucky the way she did. She never got over him, she still loved him until now.

“Where is it?” You both knew what you meant, so she reached for the hem of her dress and slide it up so you could see. Today’s date was etched on her skin, just a palm from her knee. White numbers.

“She’s the aunt of one of my students at the studio. Her name is Maria.” She shook her head, like she couldn’t believe this happened to her. “I’m finally free, he is gone.” She started to cry again, letting out years of hidden feelings and pining that now were gone.

“I want you to know, I didn’t do it because of my feelings towards him. I knew it could never happen, that is why I was the one to end it. I don’t know why I did it, but it wasn't for him. I swear, it was not.” You placed your hand on hers and intertwined your fingers, squeezing reassuringly.

“Nat, I know. It’s okay, you're okay. We are okay.” Nat lowered her head until your foreheads touched and she smiled, relief washing over her.

“I love you in case I die.” You let out a giggle and kissed the tip of her nose.

“Me too, but you really need to stop quoting Girl Boss, it’s been almost two years.” She smiled widely and pulled back, shrugging.

“What can I say, I’m just a hopeless romantic.”

“Wow, that is something I would’ve never thought I’d hear from you.”

“Hey Sammy, when did you get here?” Nat stood up and hugged him, her body relaxing after Sam’s hug.

“Since she came, so I heard everything, sorry. Now I know you are not dead inside.” Nat elbowed him jokingly and rolled her eyes.

“You will never get over that night, won’t you?” Sam shook his head, the three of you laughing. They both had a wild night back in college and Sam asked out on a date, but she of course refused cause they were friends.

“Now, should we go out and celebrate with the boys all these good news?” Nat asked, wiping off her smudged mascara and fixing her hair. It was infuriating how fucking fabulous she always looked and so effortlessly.

You sighed and nodded, Nat understanding immediately. “It will do you two good to see each other. Just as friends. He needs you and you need him. Baby steps, love. Baby steps.”

269 notes · View notes

lazywriter7 · 5 years

Text

shades of happiness

Summary: Part of the journey is the end.

Steve Rogers considers his many possible endings, and chooses one.

Warnings for major character death

It’s always been the shade that caught his eye the quickest.

In a set of pastels, blocky and chalky-soft and colour staining on his fingertips – always the pop of red towards the end that his gaze drifted to, where it lingered. The colour that could change the very way you looked at things – like when sunrise lit the tenements of Brooklyn in rose-gold-cinnabar, gleaming off bicycle pedals that used to look dusty and camouflaging the cracks in sour-cream building walls, clothes left over on the lines at night flapping gently in the wind – like filtering it all through this shade could alter reality itself.

(Reality, that makes one of six–)

Steve had a weakness for it, for red. Any time one of his paintings looked a touch too dull, like the colours had been leached of their potency, like everything was too drab, too still (too dead), his brush strayed towards the red tube of paint. A dab here and a highlight there, and it was like the painting became a new creature – vivid and kinetic, the richness of the hue enhancing the brighter shades of yellow and orange, adding depth into the darkness of browns and blacks. It was always on his palette, he couldn’t imagine picturing a world without…

“Steve.”

He shook with it, the startlement. He blinked his eyes. Peggy smiled at him from across the diner booth, chestnut-hair shining in the light and victory suit as perfectly pressed as when he’d first met her. “You were gone there, for a while.”

“I was.” Steve said, and there was something about that that wasn’t quite right. Spoken too lightly, frivolous and easy. Lacking the import that words like that deserved.

But Peggy seemed to pay that no note and only smiled wider. Steve was braced for the breathstopping, jawbreaking clench of longing the sight brought – the corners of her quirked lips, the dip of her lower lip where the skin always seemed to be chapped and flaking. The carmine slash of her lipstick.

Red.

“Nice place, isn’t it.” Peggy tilted her chin, dark eyes flitting over the light fixtures and checkered décor.

It’s very seventies, Steve wanted to say – the foreignness of the thought prickled at him. It was… it was out of place, in this picture-perfect scene, out of time, because he’d never have known to have the thought if not for pop-culture and watching movies about the seventies in the futu–

So something else escaped his tongue instead. “Sometimes, I’d think about if I was just imagining it too… too sunny. Too bright. What would’ve happened if I’d never gone down in the ice.”

A shining image, through rose-tinted glasses. There was something about that too, which rattled at the shadowy edges of his mind; tinted glasses, tinted glasses and dark eyes–

(Dark eyes, bare for the taking. “Liar.”)

“Was the end of war. Couldn’t have been all sunshine and roses.” And for all of his heartache, he’d gotten to skip that part, hadn’t he? Hadn’t had to live with the aftermath. Bombed out streets, diners that were looking a lot emptier, hollow smiles and haunted eyes, empty chairs at the kitchen table.

Except he did live with it, just not at that particular time. Steve cleared his throat, dry to the bone, something like ash lingering at the back of his tongue. “I had to… had to carry on, for five years after. At times, it was harder than the ice.”

But Peggy only smiled on, uncharacteristic, shine of white teeth like something lacquered over. “Have some water, dear, you sound parched.”

The light seeping through the windows caught in his eyes, near-blinding. Steve raised a hand to shield them – was the sun setting? “Must’ve been hard for you to go through that all alone, after the war. Don’t know how you managed it.”

When he’d blinked the spots out of his eyes, the diner seemed faded – though still bathed in coloured light. Peggy had stopped smiling, though her eyes were still kind. “I wasn’t alone.”

Of course. For all that it had gotten dimmer, the world also seemed clearer at the edges. Like a hazy picture beginning to resolve, showing all its grainy details, cracks in the wall. Steve breathed in the stillness, breathed in the dust. “How’re the husband and kids, Peg?”

Peggy blinked, dark lashes batting through the stillness. She wasn’t wearing a ring. “Steve, I don’t know what you’re–

No, the sun wasn’t setting. But the dimmed light had gone awfully red, casting shadows across Peggy’s cheekbones, creeping across the diner table that was somehow too solid and yet not enough under Steve’s numb fingers. “Peg.”

“They’re.” Peggy hitched a breath. Cast in unearthly scarlet or no, she still looked like Steve’s best dream. “It hasn’t happened yet, but… they’ll be. They’re.. doing really well.”

Behind her glossy locks, Steve could see the diner fracturing – jagged shards of light cleaving through the vinyl booths, checkered floor, white tiling on the counters. His breath was shaking along with it, sucked clean out of his chest like an asthma attack of old, fingers digging into the table– “I never stopped loving you.”

“Me neither, darling.” The words sounded thick in her throat, but Peggy wasn’t crying. She leaned forward, cupped her warm palms over his whitening fingers, “Always.”

Then why. Why did they have to, why couldn’t this be–

(“I needed you. You said ‘together’, and–”)

“You’ve worked so hard. Been… unmeasurably brave, done so much.” Peggy’s eyes glistened with the warmth of a thousand setting suns. “I couldn’t be prouder.”

“I could… I could do it again. Here.” Work at it, at belonging to this time again. It couldn’t hurt as much, couldn’t claw at his throat with the hollowness of it more than the first go around. “With you.”

“Oh, but sweetheart.” Peggy raised soft fingers, leaned enough to ghost them over the back of Steve’s neck, catching at the flyway strands of a haircut she’d never gotten to see. “You’ve already done your time someplace else.”

The light blazed, and the world winked out.

The air pumped through his chest, hard and heavy, throat dry with gasping. His hands were braced on his thighs, view obscured to the gap between them – sweat-slick fringe whipping in his eyes when he bent over and tried to regain his breath.

“Sloppy, sloppy.” A voice teased – Steve jerked his head upright and saw red.

Not the long, straightened sheet of locks he’d gotten used to during D.C.; not even the braid she’d started putting her hair in in the past five years when her roots started growing out. No, Natasha’s hair was scarlet, violently red – and done in the short bob he’d grown to know when they’d first met, and when they trained the Avengers at the compound together.

Which was where they were now, maybe – there were mats under their feet and the training equipment around them looked halfway familiar; somewhere in between what had been in the SHIELD barracks and the Avengers facility gym. On the wall behind, off to the corner of his vision: the edge of a logo set into the plaster gleamed metallic under the afternoon light.

(“That’s what we do, right? The A-vengers? We lost, we–”

“You giving up on the fight, Rogers?” Natasha stretched her hands above her head, jet black leather-and-Kevlar creaking with the motion; rolled the joints in her neck, hair clinging to sweaty skin. “Misery of existence getting you down?”

It was a sharp, sharp jab – Steve heaved a breath and laughed with it, laughed till his eyes were faintly blurring and his chest hurt. Straightened up, meeting twinkling green eyes that he’d thought once upon a time, were cold and unreadable. “You’re not getting off that easy, Romanov.”

“You sure?” Natasha mocked, and the affection of it was raw salt and soothing balm all at once. “You’ve been looking pretty bummed lately. Maybe you should go back to bed, rest those old, creaky joints.”

Steve’s feet were moving – he’d fallen into the dance, the pattern, unaware of even making the first step, the two of them circling each other around the ring. How many times had they done this? He should’ve… he should’ve kept count.

“It’s always the same with you millennials. Life is hard, it always is.” Steve’s gloves creaked as he flexed his fingers, boots gleaming cherry red just at the edge of his sight. The old uniform – now that was a different touch. “Don’t know about you, but I’ve got plenty in my life to get outta bed for.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard this one before.” Natasha didn’t roll her eyes, the gesture far too pedestrian for her – and Steve knew that, now and during the course of… ten? Ten years. “The future isn’t really that bad, the internet is such a useful resource, do you know how dangerous polio used to be–”

Oh, but it was far more nuanced than that. In moments, that yawned long and crushingly heavy, the future seemed nothing more than a wasteland. And yet, here was a friend grinning at him from across the ring, and his breath shivered in his chest with the realisation, a truth sitting in his chest too simple to ignore – “I’ve got more than that.”

(“You trust me, right?”)

Natasha stilled. Behind the shield of banter, the fond, biting grin – Steve could see now that her eyes were too bright. Gleaming with a layer of something liquid and unspilled, eyes reddening – streaks crawling in from the corners, overwhelming the whites. “Yeah?”

“Chatting with Mr. Patel at the bodega three miles away. Helping Wanda control her powers.” It was like feeling the dark give way, lightness stealing in – till his vision was wrecked with it, till keeping his eyes closed was no longer an option. “Morning runs with Sam. Sparring with you.”

Natasha’s smile settled into the crinkles of her eyes, a colourless drop leaking out the side and vanishing into the curve of her cheek. Her voice was ever-so-slightly hoarse, and in that moment more tempting than any Black Widow act she’d ever put on. “You can keep this, if you want. Keep all of this.”

The Avengers logo blazed on the wall behind her head, the corner of the A obscured by her curls. It felt, for a second, that his knees might give way after all.

Steve stayed standing. “You can’t.”

There was something trickling down from Natasha’s temple – a thin line of scarlet mingling with the trail of tears. He didn’t know how close to the truth it was. He’d never gotten to see the bod– he’d never gotten to see her go. His voice cracked with the thought, a cleaving strike right down the middle, “I can’t do this without you.”

“Steve.” There was a gentleness about her, a sense of care he’d never deserved. “I did what I had to so you could.”

“Is that…” No matter how many times he cleared his throat, the rawness wouldn’t subside. An open wound, every word flecked with the pain of it, “Is that why you…”

“You already know why.” Did he? The nose of the Valkyrie, heading straight for the Arctic shelf. Natasha’s mouth curled slightly, an affectionate smirk as if she could read his mind. “Serves you right for setting such a good example, hmm?”

“Besides, I had a job.” She said the words like she said so much else, point blank and matter-of-fact – because that was who she was. Not the masks, or the deception, or even the fights. She was duty, and a commitment to it unflinchingly made. “And a debt to repay.”

A debt to repay. The words struck something, grasped for something – past the skin of his chest and aching muscle, through the defences of his ribs and right down to his unenhanced, beating heart.

(Not red this time, no. Hearts were blue, blue and white like the hottest part of a flame; heat and weight slammed down into his palm, metal burning a circle into the skin.

“Liar.”

Burning regret, and a debt that couldn’t be cast away.)

Something slipped into his hand, warm fingers working their way into his own gaps. Steve squeezed against the pressure, breath escaping just a fraction more lightly. “Did it hurt when you went down?”

“No.” Natasha said simply, and the press of her hand against his was not a lie. Reddened as they were, her eyes still looked peaceful. “It was nice. Like a warmth in my chest, of… getting to throw aside all that my life had been used for, and choosing what it was going to mean.”

It means everything. A hero, when it counted the most for everyone. A friend, when it counted the most for me.

“It didn’t feel like that for me, the ice.” The world was hazing around them again, soft and crimson. His fingers curled in harder, held on tighter. “I knew what I was doing was right, but… it didn’t feel like that.”

“Well then.” Natasha tilted her head one last time, light gleaming off the devastating line of her jaw, eyes teasing like he’d remember her best. “What’re you waiting for?”

A breath, brushing past the stillness. Like conviction finally emerging again, settling into its long-worn shoes.

The world blazed bright. Steve let go.

When Steve came back to himself, the universe was in stasis.

It felt like he could see all of it, spanning wide, even though his eyes were only confined to this place, this instant. This battlefield, sprawling on the grounds of a compound he’d once called home.

It was all silent, all still. Ash caught in mid-air, immobile. Weapons thrown and not yet landed. Snarls on unmoving faces, bodies contorted into the fight, friends and enemies all stretching around about him. Frozen in time, and Steve a man out of it.

Something glimmered at the corner of his vision – an exhale fleeted from his lips, a solitary breath among thousands that had been paused midway. The Time Stone shone dully among the gaps of his fingers. But it was only a spark of green amidst a sea of red; the Reality Gem blazing next to it, eye-searing.

Steve could not move his fingers. They twitched a little, but stayed firmly wrapped around, entwined through the scratched-up, faded metal fingers of an Iron Man gauntlet.

Steve lifted his chin, and stared at Tony’s face, frozen inches away from his.

(It had been a split-second decision. Lying on his back, holding a broken shield, tasting the blood through his teeth; catching a glimpse of Tony’s face through the debris, as he looked at someone out of view – at Strange, maybe.

Catching a glimpse of that resolution stealing over his face, grim and ruinously beautiful. Watching the tussle between him and the Mad Titan, watching as Tony Stark outsmarted and outgritted a foe yet again.

“I…am…”

Steve’s fingers twitched. A magnetic pull, a phantom sensation of lifting something that had never felt this light before.

Mjolnir plowed through the air, smashing into gold and titanium-alloy. Tony’s face contorted in agony, breath stuttering – but it served the purpose, the weight of the hammer pulling him forward several, crucial inches. Steve could feel the dirt under his fingernails, the watery shake of his arms as he pulled himself up one last time – dragged his knees over the ground to close the gap. Reached out, and this time he wasn’t too far away. This time, he caught the hand and held it tight.

Please, he thought, fingers clammy against warm metal, Tony’s eyes wide and so close and ash dusty over those lashes, please, as his skin brushed against the warmth of the gems, scorching points of contact.

Please, as the world froze and blazed red, and reality splintered with possibilities in his mind.)

That had been a second ago.

“Thank you.” He whispered, sound barely escaping the ash, the hoarseness, the throttling gratitude. The Reality Gem shone on like a constant, Time a quiet counterpoint to the side.

He had the time now, so he took it. Several selfish seconds, of staring at the brown eyes so inescapably close to his, the ones that had spat contempt at him and offered a home to him and widened in betrayal at his actions. Steve memorised it all, like a painting he’d never be able to put to page – the blood-crusted mess of Tony’s hair, the silver in his eyebrows, the gaunt hollows of his cheeks, the resolute tilt of his chin. The brightness of him, the tenacity, the inability to walk away – like red still lingering in the sky long after the sun had gone down.

Steve’s breath felt thick in his throat, blood and air all congealed to one. With the hand not trapped in the gauntlet, burning over the Stones – he brushed his knuckles over the warm, hard gristle of Tony’s jaw. A stolen touch, the last thing Steve would ever take from him again.

(“I will miss you Tony.”)

“Please.” Reality flickered around them. The Gem glowed, nanites stirring under Steve’s palm, like the faintest tickle, a warm breath huffed over skin. They peeled out in layers, withdrawing from Tony’s ashy skin and flowing over Steve’s hand – welcoming streams that trailed static electricity till they encased him from wrist to fingertip.

The Stones followed, five throbbing points settling below his knuckles. They still felt lighter than the phantom weight of an arc reactor, chest-warm and leaden in his palm.

Steve’s was a life mired with regrets. But in this, insular instant – the only thing he regretted was having to let go of Tony’s bare hand.

One snap, and the world came back to life.

It was like feeling his atoms implode, the burn beginning from the tips of his fingers and scoring past muscle, sinew, nerve – the blood in his veins on fire, working up his arm and charring everything in its path. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, ground rushing up to hit his spine–

“What. What the fuck, no, no, fuck, no, Steve–”

Something gurgled at the back of his throat. Steve stared up at the sky, unseeing – until his vision was filled with something too familiar, hair and face and eyes looking down, so deeply embedded into his psyche that he couldn’t not recognise–

“T..Tony.” There was warmth at the back of his neck, warmth separate from the burn carving through the right side of his chest. Like someone was clasping his neck, bracing it – like Steve’s stolen touch did not matter, because Tony would always give everything freely away.

“I had it, I had him, why would, Steve, Steve–”

Parts of Steve could still feel the serum kicking away, fighting desperately in its last stretches – I can do this all… I can do this –

“Tony, I…I am so sorry.”

Tony’s face stared down, lips clamped down tight like his teeth were biting through the skin on the inside. There were streaks of shining moisture on his cheeks, clear tracks running down the grime. His voice rang like iron. “No. No. Not good enough, Rogers. I don’t accept this, I can’t–”

“What’s her name.” Steve whispered it on a rasping breath, and Tony’s voice broke off. “Your… daughter. Tell me her name.”

“Morgan.” More liquid, welling up at the edges of those eyes, where the laugh lines usually sat – Steve ached to reach up and brush them away.

“Thought.” The next words were unbearably hard to get out, the burn flickering at the hollow of his throat. Steve struggled through it, single-minded, like every asthma attack, every bully’s fist, every bullet and hit that had ever threatened to keep him down and never succeeded. “Thought tha… that was a… fella’s name.”

“We’re rich and eccentric, it works out.” The words flitted out heedlessly, like Tony’s lips were moving and he didn’t particularly care what came out.

We. Once upon a time, that might’ve rung hollow in Steve’s chest, a pang of longing. Now it nestled there, warm and soothing and protected from the burn.

“Steve.” Something hit Steve’s cracked lips, tingling there – if he flicked his tongue out, he might taste water and salt. “You can’t give up like this.”

But I’m not. This wasn’t like losing faith, like walking away in the middle of the journey. This was finally staggering to the summit, and seeing your destination over the horizon. This was adding that final fleck of paint, that dab of red, to make the picture all worth it.

The hold shifted from Steve’s neck to the back of shoulders that were almost insensate, another arm cupping around his waist – till Tony had hauled him right up, and pressed him close, dark hair brushing over the tip of Steve’s nose. His voice in Steve’s ear was barely above a whisper, barely a question. Maybe it wasn’t even meant for him. “Why.”

The reactor dug into Steve’s sternum, a circle of glowing warmth. It felt nice.

The world was falling away, breaths slowing and heart drifting to a stop, and it felt nothing like the ice.

“I was looking for a happy ending.”

#avengers endgame spoilers #endgame fic #stony #avengers endgame #steve rogers #tony stark #natasha romanov #not a fix-it but a right-it #canon divergence #pining #stevetony

158 notes · View notes

ms-znodgrass · 5 years

Text

Crossing the Yellow Line

Part 2 to Sweeter than Cake - you can read Part 1 here: https://ms-znodgrass.tumblr.com/post/182357384907/sweeter-than-cake

Thank you to the amazing replies I received from this, they were honestly so lovely and so I decided to bang this out.

Again, requests are open. Enjoy! (Gif cred not mine)

Following yours and Otis’ escapade on the night of his 17th birthday, you solemnly swore not to talk of it. Otis returned from his bedroom to see you attempting to clear up the living room area, you didn’t want Jean to return the following morning to a mess, and you felt as if you owed it to Otis. That, and the fact that there were was a giant elephant in the room and you were doing everything to keep yourself busy.

“Hi,” Otis mumbled softly behind you, “you don’t have to clean up.” He leaned against the doorframe, scratching at the back of his neck. You swallowed.

“It’s fine really, the table’s sticky,” you chuckled.

“Let me get a wet towel or something,” he said, shuffling out of the room before you could say anything. You breathed in, and out, and in again. The room had gotten a little more humid, something unexpected in mid-January.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t see Otis appear at your side, wiping down the table. You began picking up some cups left at the opposite end of the table. Maeve and Eric were still sleeping peacefully, much to your dismay.

“Y/N, I-“

“It’s nothing, you know, what happened. Don’t worry about me thinking any different I’m very much on the same page as you, completely, one hundred percent,” you sighed, seemingly oblivious to the cup behind your foot. You’d stepped into it, and sent it flying behind you. “Shit!”

“I was just gonna say be careful of the glass,” he mumbled, “don’t worry about it.”

“No, your carpet!” You squealed, face turning hotter and hotter without your approval. His eyes widened as he spotted the brown liquid seep further and further into the cream carpet. You scrunched up your face in horror.

“Throw me the flannel, quick!” You begged. He threw it as far as he could, which was still a few feet from you. You looked between him and the flannel, raising your eyebrows.

“I have weak arms,” he shrugged, stepping towards you as you grabbed the wet flannel and dabbed slowly at the stain.

“You’re meant to scrub,” he said.

“No you’re meant to dab,” you argued, seeing a slight improvement – but nothing special. You stood up and turned to him, once again noticing the close proximity between you. Simultaneously you both stepped back.

“I’m so sorry about your carpet,” you sighed, wishing more than anything that the stained carpet would swallow you up. He smiled reassuringly, his soft lips curling up at the corners. Remnants of your lipstick tinted them a little.

“It’s fine, we’ll just… put something over it,” he murmured, placing his hands on his cheeks and squeezing them. “Give me a hand with the sofa.”

He took one side of the couch, whilst you took the other, and lifted. It was a hard job, trying to move the sofa over the stain. Not only were you both relatively weak, and tired, but Eric was draped across the entirety of the sofa.

“There, that’s fine,” Otis laughed nervously, examining the crime scene. Again you apologised, hiding your face behind your hands.

“Y/N?” Otis asked, his words laced with curiosity and amusement. You were worried that he was going to bring up your previous outburst.

You swallowed, “what?”

“Did you draw a dick on Eric’s face?” He chuckled, and you turned to see a poorly drawn penis on Eric’s cheek. Your finest work. You laughed with him, breaking the tension between you both.

“You should see the masterpiece on Maeve’s forehead.”

It was mid-May, the sun was warming the skin on the back of your neck, sending a tingling sensation down your spine. You were sat on a picnic table, talking with Maeve, Eric and Otis. It was a Friday lunchtime, and everyone was raving about the bonfire party occurring in the field of some rich kid’s farm that evening. Luckily, you four had received an invite.

“I can’t show up looking like an orange again, that’s for sure,” Eric sighs, pulling the crusts from his sandwich.

“You were a pretty sexy orange,” you wink.

“Oh I know,” he smirks back at you.

“She’s just being nice, people thought you shat yourself Eric,” Maeve interjects with a devilish smirk. Eric throws a piece of crust at her in quick retaliation, which hits her square in the forehead. You could practically feel the anger radiating from her body, and apparently so could Eric.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, please don’t kill me,” he squeals, clinging onto Otis’s arm, almost as if to use him as a shield.

“That’d be too easy, especially with Otis as your protector” she grimaces. You let out a chuckle, Otis catching your eye with amusement lurking in his.

“Speaking of the party, I was going to invite Ola,” Otis smiles, looking at his water bottle.

“Oh good, maybe you’ll get a bit of action,” Maeve jokes, wiggling her eyebrows. You and Eric laugh in unison.

“Thanks Maeve,” Otis replies sarcastically.

“Oh we’re just playing, maybe a public kiss this time, you know, go official,” Eric nudges him. Your head snaps towards Otis. This was new information.

“You’ve kissed Ola?” You ask inquisitively, “you didn’t tell me.”

“I forgot to mention it, it’s nothing,” Otis shrugs, pulled at the shoulder straps on his rucksack.

“Well when was this?” You ask.

“Two months ago?” He guesses after a quick thought. You look between Maeve and Eric, who are both avoiding eye contact.

“Wait, everyone knew except me? Really?”

“I thought you knew,” Maeve admits, looking over to Otis, “you didn’t tell her?”

“It’s really not that much of a big deal,” he tells you.

“I asked after you both so many times, I just assumed it would’ve been mentioned,” you tell him. He shrugs again. Ouch, that hurt.

“It’s only happened a couple of times,” Otis adds. Oh great, so this happened on more than one occasion? You couldn’t put a finger on why you were so angry about it, was it the fact that you were last to know? That you felt deceived? You couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason.

“You trained him well Y/N,” Eric winks. Wait, what?

“What?” You and Maeve sing. You look at Otis, who is burning holes into the side of Eric’s head. . Eric notices the sudden change in atmosphere, and shakes his head.

“Nothing! Nothing,” Eric shouts.

Maeve looks between you and Otis. “You’ve kissed? Oh my god, when?” She’s half chuckling, probably in disbelief.

“At Otis’ 17th!” Eric blurts out, covering his mouth with a hand.

Otis shoves him and looks towards Maeve. “It was nothing, it was nothing!” He repeats. The words roll over in your head, circulating through your mind.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Maeve laughs, elbowing your side.

“It was meant to be a secret… I was drunk and it just happened,” you told her, trying to act as if you weren’t furious.

“It was nothing,” Otis says again.

“Yeah! I think you’ve got that through to them Otis!” You say, standing up and throwing your bag over your shoulder. He looks up at you, his blue eyes wide and nervous. You sigh, shaking your head. “I’m going to class, I’ll see you all later,” you sigh.

Eric looks at you, confused. “But we’ve still got half of lunchtime left-“

“I’m going to class!” You yell, walking away before you explode with anger. How could Otis deceive you like that? And embarrass you in front of your closest friends with such ease?

You hadn’t noticed your cheeks were wet until you reached the toilets, and finally allowed the anger to seep from your eyes.

“I just don’t understand it, you offered to kiss him so he could get his first kiss out of the way?” Maeve asks. You nod, collecting your things. You were meant to meet the others at the party in fifteen minutes, but realistically, you weren’t going to be there for a least half an hour. You grabbed as much as you could, giving yourself a once over in the mirror before stuffing your keys and phone into your pockets.

“Yes, in short,” you sigh, your head all over the place. You barely had time to process your feelings, and felt as if your brain wasn’t yet caught up with your heart. Maeve sits, perched on the edge of your bed with one knee tucked into her chest.

“Do you like him?” She asks, chin on her knee, she watches you intensely and you can feel yourself breaking under her stare.

“No!” You exclaim, throwing your hands in the air. You cross your arms, pacing the floor, “at least I don’t think so… I don’t know!”

“Oh this is getting good,” she says, lying back on your bed. “You could write a Netflix programme about this shit,” she adds, stretching her arms out. She peers up at you, “you didn’t fuck did you?”

“No! No! Just a kiss,” you sigh.

If it’s just a kiss, why do you feel so torn? You swallow, and look at her. “We need to go, we told the others we’d be there on time,” you sigh, clapping your hands and shooing her out of the room. She rolls her eyes.

“Stop tapping your foot,” she tells you.

You hadn’t noticed you were.

“I’m not!” You say, drilling your foot into the ground. Maeve inspects you.

“Look Y/N I need to tell you-“

“Maeve if it’s Otis related I don’t want to know. Please,” you plead, eyes becoming a little wet. She shuts her mouth and looks to the side.

“Maybe you need a drink,” Maeve proposes, “I mean you don’t have to, but one or two might make you feel better?”

You had rarely heard this soft tone from Maeve, and though her face showed no sign of emotion, you knew she cared. You smiled at her, thinking.

“Alright. Let’s have a drink before we go, but just one!”

Or two, or three, or four. You’d lost count after shot number six, and could feel your body begin to feel a little limp, a little more relaxed, a little more… fuzzy?

Maeve was laughing at you as you both attempted to walk along the yellow line on the side of the empty road. You weren’t doing too well, a few stumbles here and there, and the line seemed to be moving a little. “It’s not even straight!” You protested, squinting.

“I think I’m doing pretty well here,” Maeve called out in front. But as soon as those words left her mouth, her body met the floor. You almost peed yourself, you were in hysterics. Nothing else mattered apart from you, Maeve and the yellow line. That was until you arrived at Lawrence Fry’s farm.

“Fuck we’re here,” you muttered, looking across at Maeve.

“After you m’lady,” she chuckled, signalling for you to walk ahead. You took her hand and stumbled through the tall grass, both falling over unseen dips and molehills, each small blunder resulting in loud laughter. You could just make out a figure walking towards you: tall, blurry and wearing purple. Eric.

“Hey!” You yelled, walking towards him and greeting him with a hug.

“You’re swaying,” he says to you, “she’s swaying!”

“Nah, I think it’s the wind,” Maeve laughs. You turn and wink at her.

She retaliates with another wink, her eyes flickering between you and something behind you. She coughs, and widens her eyes. You turn, and step forward into a chest. Otis’ chest.

“Well hi there,” he chuckles, attempting to steady you by placing his hands on your arms. It doesn’t help much, the contact just causes your pulse to quicken. You look up at those blue eyes. His dark hair is pushed back into a quiff, held in place with the assistance of hair gel, and lots of it. He flashes a kind, white smile, the white t-shirt he’s wearing only making him look more… angelic.

That was when your head caught up with your heart.

“Hi,” you smiled, all anger dissipating from your being. It was almost as if he was the only person with you in a slight unpleasant smelling field of grass.

And… maybe not. A recognisable figure appeared next to him, “hi Y/N!”

“Hi Ola,” you smile, stepping back from Otis and seeing her smiling beside him. “You look pretty,” you say, and it was true. She did look stunning. You swallow the lump forming in your throat as you watch Otis place an arm around her waist.

“Thank you! So do you, as always,” she smiles. You step back again, deducing that the wind caught you off guard once again.

Maeve appears beside you, and pushes you back upright. “She’s a little drunk,” she announces.

“I’m a little drunk,” you echo, giggling. You catch Otis inspecting you, and can’t seem to read his mind.

Eric smiles at you and wraps an arm around your shoulder.

“Well, let’s get Eric on that level,” he smiles, walking you towards the crowd. You mouth a ‘thank you’ to him, to which he replies with a soft forehead kiss. He looks over at Maeve, “I can’t believe you both got pissed without me.”

Though Eric felt excluded previously, it didn’t take him long to reach your level. And before long, you three had all reached a pretty terrifying alcohol state. Thankfully, most of the other party-goers had too. You sat with Eric and Maeve around a giant bonfire situated in the middle of the field. The flames were hypnotic, and you couldn’t stop staring at them.

“Y/N I’m sorry if I embarrassed you earlier,” Eric slurs, tapping your leg lightly. “I just can’t help my mouth,” he laughs, leaning further and further back. You and Maeve have to pull him forward to stop him from falling off of the log. You shake your head profusely.

“It’s nothing! I’m glad I know you know,” you say, enunciating your words with equally poor diction. He smiles at you, and looks over at Maeve.

“At least I didn’t tell her they’ve done other stuff,” he tells Maeve. Her head turns towards you, an unreadable emotion lurking in her eyes. You blink.

“What?” You ask, nose tingling, eyes burning.

“That they’ve further explored their sexual healing, feeling, healing, whatever,” he murmurs, holding your hand. “He told you that right?” His eyes are half-closed, and he leans towards you to inspect your facial expression. Upon seeing your blatant shock, he gulps.

You clench your jaw, hurt from these constant lies, constant whispers.

“No, Eric. He didn’t even tell me about their kiss, of course he wouldn’t mention any other crap they’ve gotten up to!” You yell, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. Maeve hits Eric’s arm, flipping him the finger.

Noticing the exchange, you stand up and look at her, “you knew?”

“Yes… I knew. But I didn’t know you didn’t know until today, he told me in confidence and begged me not to discuss it with anyone. I thought he did the same to you. But then today I realised you weren’t in the loop,” she sighs, standing up too.

“You could’ve told me today!”

“I tried! But you didn’t want to talk about it,” she tells you. A couple of people around the bonfire look at you both, you hadn’t noticed how loud you’d gotten. Or that Otis had appeared behind Maeve. You look at him, a stray tear dripping down your cheek.

Perhaps you should walk away, perhaps you should scream in Otis’ face, or tell him how strong your stupid feelings are for him. Perhaps you should sober up before any further damage is done. You should. But you don’t.

Instead you walk up to Lawrence Fry and lay a big, fat kiss on his unsuspecting lips.

#otis milburn #otis #otis milburn x reader #sex education #sex education imagine #jean milburn #maeve wiley #eric #eric sex education #sweeter than cake #asa butterfield #asa butterfield x reader #asa x reader #sex education au #sex education fanfic #otis milburn fanfic

519 notes · View notes

hufflepuffhollander · 5 years

Text

fireworks: a tom holland imagine (part 2)

you just realized the oddball frat guy who made you a drink is a movie star, and now it’s up to you to show him how america does the fourth...

(tom x reader (college student))

contains some language, alcohol use, and some kisses but nothing too spicy (yet)

somewhere else in college land

You walked up the hill behind the frat house, Tom in close tow behind you, hands clasped together, no fingers intertwined. It was too soon for that, as only moments ago you had just found out who the mystery man in the glasses was.

“Where are we going?” he asked, suddenly realizing he shouldn’t be allowing an almost stranger to lead him into the woods.

“Somewhere where the views are a little better than keg stands and skateboards,” you replied, taking a moment to look back at him, the slowly falling sun tinting his face in a way that instantly comforted you; would you have received that face in the same way if you still didn’t know who he was?

Fuck it, an opportunity’s an opportunity.

You led him through a trail that you knew all too well -- the same one you’d strolled through with your ex, a member of this same fraternity, the same one you ran through when he broke your heart. The trail ended at a lake with a dock, where next door another group of 20-somethings were having a fiesta. You could faintly hear the surges of the bass, and the hooping and hollering when someone made their shot in beer pong oddly acted as a great way to set the ambience. You sat down on the edge of the dock, and Tom joined you.

The sun was starting to set on the lake, and you only then realized how much time had passed since you’d woken up this morning to perfect your makeup. You could only imagine how your red lips looked now, probably smeared and blotchy.

Tom didn’t care.

You started to talk, just like normal people, no hidden identities lying in the layers of your conversation. He was surprisingly genuine; he found you surprisingly hilarious. The mix of realizations you were making about one other made for an impressive string of conversation, neither of you realizing that you had subconsciously moved closer together, thighs touching, his arms outstretched behind him propping him up, one of those arms crossed between yours.

The sun fell lower and lower, and so did your guard. The booze you had already consumed before the party was still dancing under your skin, sending tingles down through your fingers, and you put your hand on his, attempting to share the phenomenon.

“Do you feel?”

“Do I feel what, love?”

“The warmth”, you said, staring down at your hands. Seeing that sight, your fingers over and under his, only made that fuzzy feeling more intense.

“Is someone still pissed?” he laughed, wondering if you were naturally this funny when you were sober.

“Shut up, it’s your fault! You made me the drink from hell,” you snapped back, pushing his arm hard, catching him off guard and almost causing him to fall in the water.

He retaliated by grabbing you at waist height and pretending to throw you in, but you didn’t know he was pretending, and just yelled “fuck fuCK FUCK” until he rested you back down on the wooded planks.

Your mutual fits of giggles made you fall into each other, neither one making an effort to pick themselves back up. Somehow, you blinked and then it was nighttime.

“This is nice,” you said, lying your head on his shoulder, hoping he didn’t mind.

He didn’t.

“Is this what college is really like?” he asked shyly.

“No, definitely not.”

He looked at you with eyebrows raised. “What’s it like, then?”

You could see in his expressive eyes that he truly wanted to catch a glimpse into what going through your early twenties as a normal person was like, wondering how he would like college, and if it was everything they made it out to be in the movies. You indulged him.

“Well, it’s classes, studying, cramming for tests, parties, fuckboys, good friends and coffee,” you started naming the first things that came to mind when you thought of the whirlwind that had been your college experience so far.

“I like all of that except for the fuckboys,” he stated. “I don’t understand them.”

“Get in line,” you laughed. “I’ve experienced them all, and they still don’t make any sense.”

“All of them, huh?” he looked at you coyly, one eyebrow raised above the other. “You must get around, then?” he winked at you, making your stomach flip.

“That is not what I meant,” you spat back, wishing you hadn’t put such an emphasis on the not, not wanting Tom to think you were an easy target, but also not wanting him to think you had no notches on your belt.

The alcohol in your system was reaching the part of you that gets real heated real quick, and the way Tom’s face looked painted into that sunset wasn’t helping.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you smirked at him, sticking out your tongue. He brought his face closer to yours, almost whispering, “Yeah, kinda.” You hoped you had heard him right.

You did.

As you were about to forget yourself and simply melt into him, an eardrum bursting pop echoed from the sky. You jumped yet again, and he wrapped his arms around you soothingly.

“Look up, love.”

A big tangle of red and orange bursts erupted in the sky, followed by green and blue, silver and gold, and yellow pops of color.

“The party next door! They have fireworks!” Tom loved how happy these made you, taking in your sweet and smiling face staring up at the sky in awe, the way each rupture of color reflected in your glistening eyes. The way each smile of yours lit off fireworks inside him.

You looked at him, not realizing how close he was, taking in the way he smelled, the way he was looking at you.

“Tom?”

“I want to kiss you,” he said straight out. Truth be told, he had been drinking too.

You smiled and let your eyes lower to his lips, giving him the go ahead to cup your face in both of his hands and meet your mouth tenderly, kisses eventually moving with the rhythm and intensity of the fireworks. After long, passionate moments of breathing each other in, you couldn’t help but want more.

“Would you want to, I dunno, go somewhere a little more private?” you asked quietly, wondering if he heard you, wondering if he wanted the same thing.

He did.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

okidoke so I’ve never written anything even smut related before but I am willing to try if this part warrants a third steamier one! lmk!!!

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfiction #tomholland #tomhollandimagines #tomhollandfanfic #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #part 3???

41 notes · View notes

insfiringyou · 5 years

Text

First time having sex with J-Hope

Contains: Fluff. Smut. Fingering. Vaginal sex.

AN: Although this can be read on its own, we imagine the girl here is his OTP, Nana, who features in our headcanon masterlist. You can find out more about our headcanon universe here

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM / Jin / Suga / J-Hope / Jimin / V / Jungkook & Our full masterlist can be found here

I was very excited to finally write this as Hoseok is my bias! Please enjoy. Very fluffy and smutty! ~Admin N

Rated written content below cut

Hoseok jolted suddenly as his phone slipped from his loose grasp and landed face down onto the gravel. He sighed in relief as he ran his thumb over the glossy screen. Luckily, nothing had broken. He had been distracted, as he sat on the bench, by the same young woman who had been circling the park for the past 30 minutes. She had first caught his attention because of how she dressed. Her tank top and matching skirt were impossibly white, a small crocheted bag hanging from her shoulder, the neon yellow of her beaded necklace matching her sandals. The day was overcast and gloomy, the earth a little soft from the drizzle that so often accompanied spring. It was not a warm day by any means, even though the sun was beginning to break from behind the clouds.

Secondly, her behaviour was very odd. She would circle any tree that she passed and stare for minutes into the beds of flowers, gently pulling aside leaves and patting the wet soil before moving to another. Hoseok was eyeing her, curiously, until suddenly she turned on the spot and met his eyes from across the path. His heart pounded inexplicably as she strode over with purpose, her thin brows slightly raised. He parted his lips slightly to greet her, but stopped himself, as she brushed past the bench and began to peer in the thick shrubs beside him. He couldn't help but watch, open-mouthed as she stepped into the mud, the loose weave of her bag catching in the twigs as she examined the leaves with extraordinary care.

"Excuse me..." Hoseok said, softly. "Is everything alright?"

She glanced at him, slightly taken aback as though she had not realised he had been sitting right beside her. Her face was heart shaped, her large brown eyes seeming too big for it and surrounded by a fan of long lashes. There was a rosy tint to her cheeks, but otherwise her skin was pale, smooth and bare. Hoseok couldn't help but notice that she was incredibly pretty, despite her hair looking a little wild as it blew in the breeze.

"I'm looking for my other earring, " the woman replied, her fingers toying unconsciously with the brightly coloured, dangling hoops hanging from her earlobe. "I was walking my dog here earlier and I stopped to take off my jumper...I guess it came off then..."

She sounded a little scattered, as though more to herself than the man speaking to her. Stepping a little further into the shrub, she reached in and retrieved something between her fingertips. But she sighed as she withdrew a candy wrapper, muttering to herself.

"I hate that..." Hoseok heard her say under her breath, as she reached over to put it in the bin beside the bench. Before he could ask her where she thought she'd lost it, she lost her balance and fell unflatteringly onto the wet dirt. He sprang to his feet, eyebrows lost in his fringe as he rushed to her side and pulled her up by the elbow. One sandal was missing, her bare foot covered in muck as she righted herself.

Hoseok guided her, hopping, onto the path. "Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? Ah, look...your clothes..."

"No...I'm fine." She shook her head, checking herself over where he had indicated. The once white outfit was filthy. She had placed one hand flat against the ground as she fell, and dirt was under her fingernails . A little confused, she looked around and grabbed for the sandal. "I slipped..."

She slid the shoe back on her muddied foot, and wiped her hand unceremoniously on her skirt. Noticing that she no longer had her bag, he unhooked it from the spiky branches carefully as not to snag the yarn .

"Do you want to keep looking? I can help." Hoseok offered, resting the bag back on her bare shoulder. He thought she looked more disappointed than embarrassed, her coral-pink lips slightly turned down at the corners.

"No thanks... I don't think it's here anyway," She sighed. They rattled cheaply as she brushed them with her fingers. She took out the remaining one and tucked it into her bag. "I should probably go clean up...too bad... I really liked those earrings. They were my favourite."

"Do you have far to walk?"

"To the library." She said, simply. "My apartment is opposite."

Hoseok frowned. "The library in town? That's kind of far."

The woman nodded, brushing her dirt-free fingers through her hair in an attempt to tame her wild curls. "There are no good parks near there...they're always so noisy. But I like this one a lot."

The offer was out of his lips before he could really consider how forward it would sound. "I live across the street. You can come up and clean yourself up a bit first, if you like?"

He blushed as she met his gaze, questioningly. After all, she didn't know this man, but she had no reason to distrust him. "Is that...really okay?"

Hoseok nodded, and to his relief, she didn't look alarmed by his proposal. He couldn't help but smile brightly at her, and she returned it with one that was slightly crooked. Following his lead, she dawdled slightly behind as they headed towards the street.

"Do you walk your dog here a lot?"

"Well...he's not really mine. Seulgi belongs to my neighbour. She broke her ankle, so she can't really do it herself with the crutches. But the cast is coming off in a few days. " Her voice was light and airy, almost musical in the way she spoke, and Hoseok inclined his head to listen better to the pleasant tone of it.

"You changed your hair colour," she continued, her eyes lingering on his black bangs. She knew she recognised him, but it was only then that she had realised she'd seen him in the exact same spot, eating a banana just a few days before. The sudden change of conversation made him glance back at her, slightly bewildered, as he pushed the button for the crosswalk. "I saw you here last week. I remembered you because you had red hair. But you changed it."

"Yeah...it's more boring now, right?" He chuckled, taking long strides forward as the crossing light turned green.

"I like it." She said, at once. " It makes your skin look glowy. Like you've just been on holiday or something."

Hoseok felt a warmth creep up his cheeks as he felt her eyes on him, a toothy grin breaking out on his face.

"I just got back from Europe," He said. " It was a little warmer...but just a little."

They were heading towards a shadowed a trio of immense glass buildings, easily the tallest of those around. She hurried a little behind him to catch up with his long strides. They had been clearly visible from the park, reflecting the breaking sunshine from the window panes. "What were you doing in Euro- oh." She paused, staring skywards at the edifice as the man turned left into the first of the three buildings. " Is this where you live?"

The man nodded, looking a little sheepish. "I moved in a few months ago... but I'm not fully unpacked yet. " He punched in the key code to the building and led her through to the lobby, equally as impressive looking of marble floor and tall ceilings. Her sunshine yellow flip-flops slapped noisily against the white tile. She realised what a disaster she must look as a woman, pristinely dressed, passed by them with an obvious, lingering glare at the grass and mud stains on her clothes.

She was staring down at her feet, her green nail varnish now dull and brown, when Hoseok reached for her swinging hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

"Don't worry about it." He whispered, under his breath, dimples forming on his cheeks as he smiled warmly at her. The gesture was simple, fleeting, her stomach flipping his fingers trailed away from her wrist. They took the elevator in relative silence, the curtain of curls disguising her private smile .

"Sorry, it's a little messy... " he said apologetically, beginning to step towards the staircase, away from the chaos of the living room. She shuffled out of her shoes and placed the bag beside his on the doormat, casting her eyes curiously around the open space. There was a half built entertainment unit in the middle of the room, screws and tools scattered everywhere, and several large boxes which she guessed contained more flat pack furniture. There were two half-filled glasses of orange juice by the couch.

"My friend was helping me put it all together, but he had to leave, so I gave up. I'm not great at that sort of thing." He rambled, pausing as they reached a door at the top of the hall, slightly ajar. He peered in first, before pushing it open and lingering by the entrance as she slipped inside.

"Oh, it's so nice..."

"I'll leave you alone now, okay? I'll be down the hall." Hoseok smiled. She thanked him, and he pulled the door gently closed with a soft click. Now alone, it occurred to her that she didn't even know the stranger's name, wishing she'd thought to ask him whilst they had been walking. He must have wealthy parents, she thought, to have such a spacious bathroom in Seoul. Her own was cramped, cluttered with products and odd towels that had followed her from apartment to apartment. Yet he seemed perfectly nice, kind, and she decided that nothing else mattered except for that. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she plucked a few small leaves embedded in her curls, trying to brush out the dirt that had managed to cling to the ends. She ran the tap and rinsed her hands underneath the warm stream and began to undress down to her pale pink briefs. Slim and shapeless, her breasts were too small to really bother with a bra. The tiny swell of them felt the chill of the airy space, her nipples hardening as she rinsed her camisole under the water. It ran brown as the mud washed away, and she lathered soap and worked at the stain until the fabric was completely sodden. Her skirt was even worse, and she ended up submerging it completely in a pool of warm suds before wringing them both out and draping them over the bare towel rack to dry. Atleast it was a little better, she thought, sliding down her underwear and stepping into the shower cubicle. It took her a little while to figure out how to achieve the right pressure and temperature, the water pounding hard against the frosted glass as she fiddled with the chrome dials. Already drenched, she began to wash her hair, squeezing a little shampoo from a bottle on the rack. The scent of tea-tree was fresh and exhilarating, tingling as she massaged it into her scalp. Her mind wandered a little as she washed, her skin prickling pleasantly.

"They delivered the wrong speaker." A low purr rumbled against Hoseok's ear. "I had to send it back, so I guess I have free time after all. I'll be there in half an hour."

"Ahh, now's not a good time," Hoseok said cautiously, eyes flickering to the door of his studio, which he'd left ajar. The hall was empty and silent, except for the faint sound of running water. "Something came up."

"What?" Yoongi inquired.

"Uhm, I have a guest...sort of."

"Ah, Hoseok..." He drew in air audibly between his teeth, but his voice was soft and playful, knowing that he wouldn't have to probe much for details. "Who is she?"

"I don't know her name..." The younger man said, quickly, his chair groaning as he leaned back. "But, it's not like that. She's just using the bathroom and I don't know how long-"

"Just let me know when you're done. I found the alan keys." The call ended abruptly, and Hoseok slid back the phone into his pocket with a sigh. He ran his hand through his hair, staring blankly at his laptop screen, unable to concentrate on the document in front of him. A tentative knock on the door made him jolt from his seat, and guiltily he looked up to see her stood in the doorway.

His lips parted immediately, a slight gasp slipping from his lips. She peered around the door, thick hair heavy as droplets of water trickled down the pit of her neck and between the crevice of her small breasts. The white camisole was damp, creased, clinging to every inch of her slim figure. He couldn't help but notice the little indent of her belly button and the two, hard protrusions of her mocha-coloured nipples, her areolas clearly visible beneath the white cotton. He swallowed hard, feeling his breath stutter as he met her large eyes.

"Sorry to bother you... I just wondered if you had a towel...I couldn't find one." She muttered, thinking she had disturbed something. He closed his lips, realising he had been staring.

"Uum, yes, I keep them in the closet...sorry, I guess I forgot to mention that." Laughing nervously, he turned away a little and stood, his legs feeling odly numb. She had caught his gaze flicker down her body, and she realised in the artificial light how little her clothes had dried in the hot steam of the bathroom. A bright red flush crept up her cheeks. Suddenly, the air seemed too thick to breathe, heavy with silence. There was a crackle of electricity as he brushed past her and stepped out of the room. She pinched her shirt, trying to readjust how it stuck to her skin, but without much effect. He returned moments later holding a fluffy lime- green towel, his face equally crimson.

Their eyes met as she glanced up from his slender hands, and her stomach turned once again at the desire burning in his expression. She took it from him with a breathless thank you, the heat of his body radiating through the wet camisole as they inched closer together.

Frantically, their lips clashed together in a whine of pleasure, the towel dropping to their feet. They broke apart to take sharp breaths before they collided together again excitedly. Droplets of water continued to roll down her forehead and tip of her nose, intermingling in their kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating, making her ache as she matched his feverish pace, his hands busily roaming from her hips to her lower back. His pressure would have been firm where he to keep still for even a second. Yet there was a desperate edge to his embrace, one which deepened the pull in her navel, her libido craving more. She ran her fingertips through his hair, tugging it slightly as she intensified the flavour of the kiss.

"You're so sexy..." He panted, against her lips. She felt his teeth as he smiled against her, and he pushed back keenly.

Flushing in pleasure at his words, her heart skipped. She wanted to repeat the words back to him, but her mind was feeling very hot and fuzzy, and when she spoke again it was with an aching, wistful sort of sigh.

"Touch me..."

Hoseok's fingertips broke the barrier of her shirt and ran flat up her stomach. Her skin was burning, a little clammy from the shower, but beautifully smooth. His breath stuttered in his throat as he palmed her breasts. Though the flesh there very little, her nipples were hard, puckered, and felt incredible between his long digits. Too soon, they slipped away, and he began to peel the fabric over her head. The air was cool as it fully hit her skin, but warmed once more by his hands as they continued to clamber over every inch of her figure. He captured her lips once again, her clitoris pounding so hard that she thought she might lose her balance.

Instinctively, Hoseok sensed her discomfort and lifted her skirt, running his hand up her inner thigh and brushing the warm material of her panties. She groaned at the feel of his fingers against her, pushing the fabric against her centre before angling further up. Head thrown back, he peppered her exposed throat with toothy kisses, circling the tiny bump with two fingers. Sighing in relief, she held herself steady by wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"That feels so good..." she moaned softly, though she knew he had heard her because she felt him grin against the space between her collar bones. They moved quickly down to take one of her nipples in his mouth and he flicked his tongue quickly over it, making her feel incredibly sensitive. She arched back, lips slack, sending a few droplets cascading down her back as her clit ached between his fingertips. It was almost painful; sending shivers up her spine as she gripped his back more tightly.

"I want you," she whined. "Please."

Hoseok didn't need to be asked twice. His arousal was already straining against his jeans, and she gasped in surprise as she felt his erection push against her stomach through the denim. He released her nipple, his hand moving away from her panties and to clutching at her hips. Their lips crashed, and he guided her roughly to the tiny, two seater sofa that was usually occupied by Yoongi. Her skirt bunched up around her midriff as she sank back against into the cushions, his long legs awkwardly positioned half on the carpet as he rested his weight on her. Heart thumping, she tugged desperately at the waistband of his jeans, realising to her dismay that he was wearing a belt. Feeling her struggle a little with the buckle, he closed his fingertips around hers as he kissed her cheeks, and freed himself. She helped pull the band of his boxers over the head of his cock, pre-cum spreading across her palm as she jerked them down just enough to expose his shaft. He was rock hard, and she could feel the pressure of it against her, frustrated by the barrier of her underwear. Together, they dragged them down her thigh and he pushed into her slick folds. They both cried out at the sensation of it, an odd sense of relief and mingled excitement.

"You're so tight...feels...amazing..." Hoseok whined, his voice strangled, edged with pleasure. She felt so full, his cock fitting her curves perfectly. He was impossibly close, tangled completely around her. Aching to touch him, she skimmed her hands up his shirt, finding a comfortable grip on his shoulders. Her heart fluttered as she watched his face change, her breath hitching as he thrust sharply into her. Her damp curls would surely be a frizzy mess as her head bumped against the cushions over and over. But she couldn't care less. Holding him tightly, she inclined her hips to meet him in each movement, the angle earning each a loud moan of satisfaction. His rhythm was delightfully consistent, never losing its pace, but building in intensity. The sound of their high, breathy cries echoed around the barely furnished room; hers a little louder, as a warm tingle spread from her clit and resonated in a spot deep inside of her.

Her orgasm took her by surprise; the shockwaves of it catching her breath in her throat, and causing her to dig her nails hard into his shoulders. Hoseok felt every pulse of it around him, squeezing him, pulling him tightly.

"Ah...fuck..." He whined, drawing his lip between his teeth at the sensitivity. His hips automatically began to slow at the feel of her throb around him.

"Don't stop..." She managed in a desperate whisper. "S-so good..."

He pushed her thigh against her stomach, changing his position so that he was more upright, enabling himself to push back into her with more ease. His legs had begun to ache as he found his footing against the laminate. Able to see her face clearly now, he watched her expression change as her long eyelashes fluttered open, eyes sparkling back up at him. Lips parted, she inhaled sharply as he moved, clearly enjoying the sensation of him. It was beyond sexy to watch her lick her lips every now and again, dry from her moans, biting them as he buried himself deeper inside.

"I'm close..." Hoseok panted, cheeks reddening as his release grew quickly. He knew that he had to act fast, a panicked edge to his voice. "What should I do?"

"I don't mind..." She replied, almost dreamily, her face a picture of bliss.

Making his mind in that instant, and just in time, he grasped his cock by the base and pulled out of her, his seed spilling over her bunched skirt and pubic hair in a loud sigh of pleasure. It seemed to go on forever as he stroked himself until he felt too sensitive to touch. It took a minute for his orgasm to ebb away, his body overcome with a warm shiver that left his complexion rosy and glistening with perspiration. She thought he looked beautiful.

"I'm sorry, I messed up your skirt..." He breathed, his hand running down her thigh and to his fading erection. She caught a glimpse of black pubic hair disappearing over the band of his blue boxers.

"It was already ruined, " she said. " I couldn't get the stains out anyway."

Hoseok chuckled softly, though she looked slightly bewildered.

" I'm a teacher. I don't even know your name..."

"You're a teacher? That's really amazing. " Hoseok said brightly, eyebrows raised. His cheeks were glowy as he smiled, seeming genuinely impressed.

She flushed, hoping that he would not get the wrong impression of her. " I don't usually do this... "

" Me neither." He agreed, and she knew he was telling the truth.

"My name is Nana. "

"I'm Hoseok. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that before we- " A nervous laugh escaped his lips, dimples forming on his cheeks. "Really, I didn't expect to....was it really okay that I..."

She murmured in agreement, smiling kindly at him. "Don't worry.. I'm on the pill."

He sighed in relief."Can I get you something else to wear? Your clothes are still soaking."

Nana nodded, and he squeezed her hand before leaving the room. She used the excess fabric of her skirt to clean the traces of him that had caught in her pubic hair and along her thigh, before pulling it down her legs and bundling it. So he was called Hoseok- even his name made her feel warm, familiar. She cast her eyes around the room, mind whirling. There was a microphone by his computer and large, expensive looking speakers. She decided she would ask him about it later.

When he returned he was holding an oversized shirt and pair of elasticated , leaf-patterned shorts. He looked a little apologetic, eyes skimming languidly over her naked body. " I don't have anything in your style." He said .

"Of course not, it's not like you were expecting me." she replied, voice sweet and teasing.

She dressed unhurriedly, his clothes hanging loosely from her small frame. Hoseok was watching her, eyes soft with affection.

"Wow...you look great, Nana."

Her heart did a little flip as he said her name, and she smirked in disbelief at him. "How could I? I look a mess."

She was referring to her hair, wild and unkempt. Dragging an elastic hair band from her wrist, she began messily tying it into a bun, away from her face.

"You're even cuter like this. So pretty."

Nana blushed hard as he stepped forward, one hand resting softly on her hips as the other cupped her face, pulling her into a sweet, chaste kiss. Surprised, she pressed her lips tenderly against his, suddenly feeling dread at the thought of having to leave.

"Can you stay?" Hoseok asked, his tone pleading and gentle. She felt comforted that he too was experiencing the same, strange sinking feeling in his chest.

However, Nana shook her head, regretfully. "I have to prepare for my classes tomorrow."

It was true; her kitchen table was a chaotic mess of scattered books, stickers, and lesson plans.

His smile fell a little. "Oh...that's too bad. I wish you could."

Her heart hurt at the disappointment in his voice.

"I have an hour before I absolutely have to leave, " She added quickly, sinking back onto the sofa. "Maybe we could get to know each other a little better?"

"Really? That's okay?" Hoseok beamed as bright as sunshine itself, and she couldn't help but grin back. Sitting next to her, he immediately wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. They ended up laid down, her head on his shoulder, with his long legs tangled around hers. Nana glowed, heart thumping as he continually toyed with her curls. Everything about him was warm, and she could easily have dozed off, but she wanted to talk.

"So what were you doing in Europe? I didn't get to ask you."

"Oh," said Hoseok, with a pause. He hadn't fully appreciated until that moment that she did not appear to know who he was, and he wondered if it would bother her to find out. "Me and my friends were travelling..."

She caught the hesitation in his voice, knowing that there was something he was not telling her. "Just travelling?" She prompted, softly.

"I really like you, Nana." Hoseok said. "Do you like me too?"

"Of course I do." Her voice was still gentle, sincere, but she was a little confused by his change in direction. She could tell that he was nervous. He shifted a little, one arm holding her against him as he reached into his pocket and withdrew his phone. After a moment of fumbling, her handed it to her. Bewildered, she took it and squinted a little at the photo on screen. Hoseok, looking sunkissed, was smiling broadly into the camera. Seated behind him were six others, dinner plates and half-empty bottles of Corona placed on the table in front of them.

"I took this of us at a restaurant whilst we were over there," he explained. "That's Yoongi, the one who was helping with the furniture. The one next to him is-"

"Wait," Nana interjected, slowly, eyebrows furrowed as she remembered an interview she had seen on TV a few weeks prior. "I recognise this guy. And this one was-.... ohhhhhh. Now it makes sense."

"What does?"

"Your microphone," She replied, a little dazedly. "I thought you were one of those bloggers who makes a killing from ASMR."

Hoseok exploded in a high pitched cackle.

"ASMR? Really?" He repeated. "I don't think I'd be very popular."

"Stupid guess, I know. I just didn't expect....I don't really keep up with idols these days."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"I think it's amazing. And your friends seem really nice."

Hoseok smiled, obviously relieved. "Yeah, they are."

It was several hours later when they eventually pulled up outside of her apartment. The streetlamps had already flickered on, and the windows of the library across the road were dark and empty. Hoseok apologised profusely for keeping her for so long.

"Don't worry about it. I'll catch up before class," Nana reassured, her cheeks slightly rosy. Neither had realised how long it had been as they chatted happily, simply content to hold each other and talk. She now knew that he had an older sister who ran a clothing brand, and that his parents were still living in his birthplace of Gwangju. She in turn had revealed that she had spent a few months in the city as a teenager, during her parent's divorce. He had listened sympathetically as she assured him that they were on good terms , and that she saw them often during the school holidays.

"Is it okay to call you tomorrow?" Hoseok asked.

Nana clutched the plastic bag, containing her clothes, making it rustle loudly as she unbuckled her seatbelt. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

They smirked, a familiar crackle of electricity passing between them. Without words, they leaned in close and captured each other in a kiss. She felt his hand caress her cheek, pulling away a little before pressing his lips tenderly once again to hers. Nana couldn't remember the last time she had butterflies like this, and with a little regret, she dragged the belt over her shoulder and began to slide out of the car.

"Thank you." She said, dizzily. "I'm glad I met you today, Hoseok."

The recollection of that afternoon drifted between them, leaving a long, aching pause.

"Me too," he responded, their eyes meeting in an affectionate exchange.

After what felt like forever, she closed the door of the vehicle, turned her key in the lock, and heard the car pull away as she made her way to the second floor. With a little sigh, she placed the bag on the kitchen chair, gathering up all of the books and piling them back into a large backpack. It would have to wait until the morning.

The sound of kids screaming and playing outside drifted through the open window of the classroom. The light breeze was making the wind-chimes they'd made earlier that week tinkle prettily from the latch they were dangling from. Nana took another bite of her BLT, peeling golden stars with her right hand and sticking them into the exercise book in front of her. A soft buzzing made her pause, and she quickly swallowed as she slid open her desk drawer and saw her phone vibrating against her academic diary.

"Hello?" She asked, not immediately recognising the number.

"It's me." The voice on the other end of the line made her heartbeat accelerate, her face suddenly feeling hot.

"I wasn't expecting you to call so soon, " Nana said. "I'm just having lunch. Class starts in a few minutes."

"I'm sorry for disturbing you, I just wanted to ask you something."

Taking another, smaller bite, she urged him to continue, curious.

"Well I.. I haven't stopped thinking about you all morning." He said. He was speaking quickly, as though he had to get out what he was thinking in that instant. "I just wanted to ask if you would be happy if...if I asked you to be my boyfriend."

Nana choked a little on her sandwich. "Your boyfriend?"

"Girlfriend! I meant girlfriend." Hoseok laughed, and it was infectious. Her stomach began to hurt, until the line went quiet, his soft breathing audible through the speaker. Her chest warmed at the implication, knowing immediately that nothing would make her happier.

"I'd love that." She replied, her smile stretching over her lips, imagining his face as she said it. The school bell rang and a loud yell echoed from outside as students began to flood into the halls.

"Really? That's great." Hoseok exclaimed over the din.

Her face was beet red, eyes stinging a little, and she wiped the corners with her sleeve. "Yes..." She breathed. "But I have to go now. "

"Okay...well.." His voice was equally breathy."I'll see you soon."

She drew the phone away from her ear as footsteps thundered outside of the classroom door, along with the remains of her half-eaten lunch. Her heart felt so full she thought she might burst.

Needless to say, the class got gold stars on all of their assignments that afternoon.

***

Thanks for reading

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM / Jin / Suga / J-Hope / Jimin / V / Jungkook

Our full masterlist can be found here

You can support us by buying admins a coffee here (if you wish). :)

114 notes · View notes