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palioom · 5 months

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sweet, sweet icing

summary: dieter is decorating the cookies you baked with a very special kind of icing

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader word count: 2.0k warnings:18+ content; no use of y/n ; baking; oral (m receiving); cum eating; established relationship; facial (not the beauty kind)

a/n: the first of my little "kinkmas" collection - one christmas/winter themed fic for every advent

• masterlist •

It was chilly out, the wind whirling snow up against the frosty windows, howling as it passed by. People dressed in thick layers were hurrying home to get out of the icy cold, illuminated by the beautiful lights placed throughout the city.

A world so unlike their apartment - warm and cozy, full of string lights and silly little Christmas decorations. Reindeers and Santas and glowing stars hanging from the ceiling, almost seeming like a wonderland of some sort.

The smell of freshly baked cookies hung in the air, wafting into every room from the kitchen where the still warm cookies laid on the countertops, ready to be decorated.

It had been her doing, taking all morning to prepare the dough, using all kinds of different cookie cutter forms to shape them before finally baking them. She loved the baking part, enjoying the silence in the kitchen while Dieter still slept. He would only try to eat the dough and mess with her otherwise – she had learned that really quickly the first few times she had tried to bake with him present.

But Dieter loved decorating cookies. They always ended up looking like an LSD trip gone wrong, as well as less than family friendly sometimes, but he really enjoyed doing it. It was an outlet for his creative side and even though there were less cookies than before he had entered the kitchen, she gave him full reign over it.

Like now, hearing him hum along to some music before it was cut off by a brief laugh, while she sat on the sofa, hot chocolate warming her hands, just watching some random Christmas movie. She would go and keep him company, but the mess he created just annoyed her, preferring to see the finished results once he had cleaned up.

Because when Dieter decorated anything in the kitchen it tended to go just like when he was painting – colour everywhere, spilled icing turning the kitchen counters into a sticky nightmare that all the other chocolate chips and sprinkles and sugary forms clung to.

So, exactly what one would expect of Dieter.

Behind her, she could hear some grunting coming from him, but she ignored it. Figuring he was doing God knows what. Maybe picking up some things he’d knocked over or searching some cabinets for more things to slather onto the baked goods.

She couldn’t wait to see what he had done this time around and she wished she had taken just one cookie for herself before retreating onto the sofa. Oh well, her hot chocolate would do for now.

Eventually, the noise behind her completely vanished as she concentrated on the movie, barely noticing when Dieter appeared in the living room.

“Babe, they’re done.” His voice pulled her away from the TV, eyes flying over to where he was walking towards her. Baggy shirt hanging off his broad shoulders, the area around the belly stained with all sorts of colourful things. She was sure that his loose pants also bore some marks of his wild adventures in the kitchen, but she couldn’t really see on the already wild pattern. The underside of his nose was dusted with powder, and she really hoped it was anything but coke. “They’re so fucking good.”

She laughed, eyeing the colourful cookies on the plate he held in one hand, looking just like she had expected them to. They were crazy, for the lack of a better term, but not messy. There was a certain method to how Dieter worked, both on set and when being creative here at home, and decorating cookies was no exception.

To a new eye, the weird shapes on some seemed random and applied without care – colourful swirls and zig zags and dots, seemingly random colours drawn onto the shapes of Santa and Christmas trees and reindeers.

But she could recognize some patterns, like from his pants or previous paintings he had made while high as a kite. She swore she could even see some shapes in them, objects that got lost in the assault of colours.

Or maybe she had just lost her mind after spending so much time with him.

There were a few remarkably plain ones, too. Just all green or all white, no sprinkles or anything else added to them.

“They look awesome, Dee!” She said, taking one cookie in the form of a star, drowning in orange and yellow swirls.

He looked like a little kid as she took a bite, all excited, biting his bottom lip in anticipation. Maybe he was a little too excited, making her laugh after she finished the cookie.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

With his dishevelled hair and the sheepish grin, it almost looked like he had been up to something.

Did she even want to know what it was?

Maybe he had completely ruined the countertops this year? The floor? Or maybe even the ceiling?

She remembered one year where he had somehow managed to cover the kitchen ceiling in colourful specks.

“Just excited for you to try ‘em!” Dieter said, taking a plain white one, holding it out to her. Looking so sweet, yet naughty. “Take this one.”

She sighed, shaking her head with a laugh. “I want one of those with sprinkles.”

The plain one would just be boring icing, and she really had her eyes on the ones littered with sprinkles. Or the ones where Santa had his pants down, complete with a tiny dick drawn onto it.

Who else was gonna come up with this other than him?

“Nah, this one first, babe.”

Relenting, she leaned forward to take a bite from the cookie he still held out to her. Expecting more of the sugary taste of the icing, but finding no sweet taste, beside the cookie itself.

In fact, it tasted rather… salty.

Dieter’s eyes glinted mischievously as her eyes shot up and found his, widening just slightly as it dawned on her.

He hadn’t seriously-? No, he couldn’t have.

The noises made sense now. All the grunting and giggling.

“Dieter?” She asked with a small laugh, her hand coming up to her mouth as she chewed. He really looked like a kid that had done something really bad which he found joy in regardless. “Oh my God, are you serious?”

Dieter laughed too now, deep and warm, shrugging his shoulders with that same sheepish smile on his face still..

“Surprise flavor, babe.”

Yeah, he absolutely was serious. The idea had come to him after he had actually spilled some of the icing over the counter, watching it drip down onto the floor, it really had taken his mind elsewhere.

Elsewhere being the mental image of his cum trickling out of her fucked out pussy, his cock twitching at the thought. To be fair, he had tried to resist the mental image for a while, cleaning up what he had spilled before he continued drawing onto the cookies.

But his dick ached and the thought of jerking off onto some of these pretty little shapes before feeding them to her just wouldn’t leave him alone.

So, he had done it. The mental image of her eating them was enough to make him feel hot, then he thought about getting caught doing it by her. Biting his fist so he wouldn’t be too loud and make her suspicious, he came all over a few of the sweet treats in almost record time, quietly laughing.

To his surprise, she ate the second half too, grinning around it as she did.

“You got any more of that icing?” She asked, and just the tone of her voice made his dick twitch again. Her hands wandered below the hem of his baggy t-shirt, nails lightly scratching over the soft skin of his belly before finding the waistband of his pants.

Now this he hadn’t expected.

“Mhmm, I don’t know, baby.” Dieter said, putting down the plate of cookies onto the table next to him. “Wasted it all to make these for you, but maybe I have some left just for you.”

She giggled, biting her bottom lip as her thumbs hooked into the band of his pants and pulled them down to reveal his still soft dick. Of course he wasn’t wearing any underwear at home.

Easy access, he called it.

Scooting closer to the edge of the sofa, she ducked her head, sucking one of Dieter’s heavy balls into her mouth, hearing his breath hitch above her. One of her hands wrapped around his dick, slowly hardening in her palm as she played with his balls.

Dieter’s fingers curled into her hair, holding it back in a makeshift ponytail, watching in fascination as she licked and sucked at them with a low hum, grinning when her eyes found his.

This definitely was a better outcome than what he had imagined – having her laugh at his prank before getting mad that the kitchen looked like an absolute fucking mess.

Not getting him hard so she could suck his dick.

“You really like that icing, huh?” He asked with a lopsided smirk, watching how she took his half hard cock into her mouth while her hands continued to fondle his balls.

She nodded, getting wet at the feeling of him hardening in her mouth.

“Gonna be my own personal cookie to decorate?” Dieter asked, his hips rutting forward. Her mouth just felt too good, her tongue swirling around the head and sucking on it. “Fuck, you’re sweet like one.”

A short laugh left her before she took more of him into her mouth. “Yeah, gonna be your cookie, wanna be dripping in your icing.”

Dieter laughed, too, his hips canting up in time with the bobbing of her head, his groans becoming louder as he thought about his cum all over her face. Thick, white streaks painting her cheeks and lips.

Practically begging for it with those pretty eyes, he was unable to drag this out particularly long.

No, he had to decorate just one more.

“Gonna make you look like a cinnamon roll.” He rasped, his hips speeding up and seeing her become more frantic. “All sticky and sweet and, fuck-”

Spit dribbled down her chin as her lips released him with a small pop, her hands now wrapping around his slick length and pumping him. There was that lip bite again, stroking him right over her face with those eyes that just challenged him to cum all over her.

“C’mon, Dieter, I need your icing.” She whined, her brows knitting together in desperation as her hands worked him faster. “Please, baby. We can make some cream pie after, too.”

Oh, fuck.

Her words pushed him right over the edge, a whiny sound crawling up his throat as his cum shot all over her face and waiting tongue. Rope after rope, all while she kept stroking him to get to every last drop with a low, approving hum.

Sucking the tip into her mouth again after, just to make sure that she got all of the icing he had to spare, even when her tongue on his soft head threatened to overstimulate him.

“My favourite kind of icing.” She giggled, licking her lips before smacking them. The way Dieter looked down at her was both adorable and hot, almost like he was a kid that just got the best gift ever. “I’m so happy you still had some left for me, Dee.”

Snapping out of his trance of admiring his decorating work, he laughed, bending down to kiss her. Stealing all the air from her, based on her breathy laugh as he pushed her back onto the sofa, crawling over her.

Not minding the mess at all.

“Now I’m really interested in that cream pie.” He groaned as his tongue slipped against hers, tasting both the cookie and his cum on it. “Let me help with that.”

Her laughter turned into a moan as his thick fingers wandered into her sweatpants, all muffled by his mouth.

Baking definitely was her thing, just as decorating the goods was his.

There was no better way to get into the Christmas spirit than this.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the bubble #kinkmas 2023 #my writing #pedrostories

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faithbetryin · 4 years

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Five Hargreeves X Reader | 5

(from my Wattpad: @FaithBeLovly)

Part 5

Pairing: Five Hargreeves X Reader

Word Count: 2,229

Thunder cracks through the sky, a bolt of lightning illuminating the room. Your eyes flash open, your body jumping a bit from the loud booming outside. You feel yourself getting anxious, the loud sounds making you feel stuck to your bed. You don't want to move. It was like you couldn't, even if you wanted to. You started to get hot under the sheets, but couldn't find it in your body to take them off. You open your mouth to speak, but another crash of thunder cuts you off. You barely manage to squeak his name in a whisper, but then you try again, hoping even the smallest sound would wake the sleeping Number 5 on the floor. He looked so peaceful, sleeping so soundly and curled up in his blanket. You felt bad trying to wake him up, but the fear... You needed his help. You needed him.

"F-Five...?" You say, feeling worried he won't hear you. "Five..!" You whisper loudly, deeply relieved to see his eyes flutter open. You grip onto the sheets anxiously. His eyes look around for a moment before discovering you looking at him. He lifts his upper body up a bit before saying quietly,

"Why are you awake?" You don't answer. You were embarrassed to be this afraid of just a stupid thunderstorm, but it triggered something in you. You still couldn't move. You feel the pace of your breathing increase as another flash of lightning brightens his face. He then puts two and two together, realizing that the storm must be triggering your anxiety. He immediately gets up from the floor and kneels down next to the bed. He notices how hard you're gripping the sheets and puts his hand on top of yours.

"Hey, hey. What's wrong? Nerves acting up again?" You nod and start to feel your eyes get watery, feeling both embarrassed that he's seeing you like this and emotional that someone cares about you like Five does. He taps the top of your hand with his thumb a few times as if he was determining what to do.

"I can't m-move," you say quietly to him. His brows show concern, and then he stood up, walking over to the other side of the bed and crawling in with you. You don't move, relying on your hearing to listen for his movements. He slides closer to you and you feel your heart beating harder against your chest. He leans over you a bit and slides his arm under your back, turning you over and pulling you into his chest. He groans as he pulls you over, smiling down at you widely. "Alright," He says as he maneuvers your body so you're facing him now, held close to his chest. "There."

You find yourself feeling safer already, especially with his comforting touch. You snuggle against his chest as you get more comfortable. He rests his chin on the top of your head. Another thunderous boom disturbs the night sky, making you jump a little again, even though you should've known it was coming from the flash of lightning. Five grips onto you a bit, letting you know he's got you. You spend a long time in silence, just enjoying the soothing sound of his heart beating against your ear and the warmth of his body. You peer up at him a bit, even though you couldn't see much from under his chin.

"Five?" You whisper. His eyes were closed and he was breathing quietly and slowly, his body accumulated to the new position, ready to drift back to sleep. He doesn't answer for a while, but eventually gives you a delayed "Hm..?" You nuzzle his chest and gently hold onto the fabric of his white collared shirt.

"Thank you..." You say quietly. He sighs comfortably and then pulls away a bit to look down at you. His eyes explore your face, a slight smile inching from his lips. He didn't get told thank you. He's gone through hell trying to save his siblings from the end of the world, from each other. He's worked his life in a job he didn't get one thank you for, despite being their most elite assassin. No one thanked him. They just gave him crap about the means he would go to to make sure his family was safe. For screwing up the jump. As if he wanted to disappear for decades. To hear someone give him gratitude, it was... nice.

"You're welcome..." He says softly. Your eyes were locked onto his through the dark, and you didn't want to pull your gaze away. You liked him. Really liked him. You wanted to tell him, but you couldn't. He was so perfectly intimidating. You could barely keep your cool in a thunderstorm. How would you tell Five that you liked him?

"You know," Five starts, his hand rubbing your back gently, "In all those years, I thought I didn't need anybody, that I was too good for anyone else. Didn't need any help, any advice..." He thinks about how he directly disobeyed his father, and ended up stuck in an apocalypse because of it. Because he was so confident in his own abilities. "But... I was alone." You look at him, listening to how his voice spoke so genuine. "I found my siblings' dead bodies and then drank my sorrows away with a mannequin." You kept listening, even if that part was concerning. "Now that I'm back, I'm not alone. I'm surrounded by idiots, sure, but... You knocked at my front door."

"And now I don't feel alone anymore."

You open your eyes and stretch your legs a little bit from under the sheets. You think about last night and find yourself smiling in Five's pillow. You turn over, but... Five was no where to be found. Just an empty space on the bed next to you. You yawn and sit up, wondering where he's gone now. Just as you start to stand up, a blue vortex opens up in front of you with Five now stumbling in front of you. He was holding a full cup of coffee in his hands, which was now a little less than full as some slipped out of the side of it from the jump.

"Whoops," he says, pushing the coffee mug in your hands. You take it now that you have no choice, considering it's already in your hands. "Rise and shine!" He says loudly, warping to the other side of the room. He pulls another school jacket out of his closet and pulls it around his shoulders. Someone clearly has a lot of energy today. You use the coffee mug to warm your hands as you watch him warp around.

"Hey to you too," you say. He then opens the door and bounces his antsy body up in down. You blink at him, only causing him to sigh and then lunge his arms towards you, pulling you up off the bed. You handle the coffee cup quickly, preventing it from spilling. "What is going on with you?" You ask, looking back and forth between him and the coffee cup. He marches you down the hallway by your arm.

"I've had a stressful morning and I don't want to be here any longer than I have to." You make a face out of confusion, attempting to take a sip of the coffee as you walk. He blinks you down the stairs, now causing the coffee cup to be only half full as it spills onto the floor.

"Hey-" You struggle, trying to get him to slow down for just a second. "You could at least warn me," He ignores your complaining and makes his way to the doors of the academy.

Luther then stands in front of it. "Oh no you don't, you're not going anywhere Numero Five."

"Oh yeah?" Five challenges, his eyes widening like he was insane, his smile quite wide and pissed off. He grips onto your arm as he bops his body up and down, preparing to jump. Klaus yells as he jumps at Five, and you pull out of his grasp, jumping out of the way while Five blinks a few feet from where Klaus was. He stomps his way over to Luther, pointing his finger up at the brute. Klaus lands on the hardwood floor with a thud and a slide.

"Klaus? Really? That's the best defense you got?" he asks Luther. Luther stands his ground at the door as Diego and Allison grab onto Five, holding him tight and lifting him as Five kicks and struggles in their arms. "HEY! GET YOUR GRUBBY FINGERS OFF OF ME-" You watch as you sip what's left of your coffee. This must be a normal sibling thing around here. Diego and Allison help each other pull Five into the living room. He struggles and elbows Diego in the stomach, causing him to wheeze and let go. Allison keeps fighting to keep Five contained. She then says over his struggling,

"I heard a rumor, that you went limp." Luther walks over to the living room to join Allison and a defeated Diego on the floor. Klaus gets up and takes the mug out of your hands, taking a big sip. You make a disgusted look just as he does when he says,

"Blagh, this isn't tequila." He puts it back into your hands and walks in zig zags to the join the others. You follow and watch as Five's body literally goes limp. He looks at you with HELP ME written all over his face. Allison then drags his limp body to the couch and sets him down onto the couch. His body falls over and Luther pushes him back up with his finger.

"So what's going on?" You ask blatantly. Klaus looks at you and shrugs.

"Five is being very sneaky is what's going on, right Five?" Diego gets up eventually and bumps shoulders with Luther as he walks by, sitting on the other side of the couch next to Five.

"Low blow, little brother, low blow." He says to Five, poking him in the cheek. Klaus and Diego laugh at how he couldn't do anything. Klaus keeps poking Five after Diego does until Diego gives him an irritated look, clearly not finding it amusing anymore. You kinda felt bad for Five.

Allison fixes Five's hair, putting it back into place for him with careful hands. Five tries to talk, but no one could understand him with his jaw and tongue all loosey goosey.

"Aw, Allison. Now he can't tell us anything," Luther says, frowning. Five laughs evilly, but it was mostly slurred gurgling. Diego shakes his head at Allison.

"Nice."

Allison pops the back of his head with her hand for that comment. Diego's body reacts as he's hit and lets out a "oww!" Luther sits on the coffee table in front of Five, the coffee table creaking loudly. Everyone's eyes widen, expecting it to break. Luther makes a face and rolls his eyes as he ignores what he knows they're all thinking in his head about how he was too big to sit on the table.

"Ooo! Maybe I can translate for him. I'm all sluggish all the time, I practically speak drunk." No one opposes the idea, but no one finds it anything but stupid either. Luther sighs and goes back to interrogating Five.

"Five, we all happened to notice that you have been acting a bit, uhh-"

"Insane." Diego butts in, looking at Five with clear resentment after the elbow to the gut.

"Uhm, I was going to say unusual, lately. And we think you are hiding something from us." You watch with everyone else, now just as interested as they are. You didn't think Five was being weird- well up until this morning.

"Iiii ammnnnottslhidingg annyyyythiiiinnnnnggghh Lutwerrrr," Five utters. Klaus sits next to him on the couch.

"Okay, he says he's not hiding anything, but I think he's bluffing," Klaus explains.

"No shit," Diego says, shaking his head in annoyance.

"Then care to explain this?" Luther asks, pulling a photograph of their dad out of his coat pocket. Five closes his eyes and groans,

"Schhhhhhhhliitt."

"Shit. He just said shit. Little potty mouthed, sneaking, thieving, RAT, Five!" Everyone looks at Klaus and then refocuses on Five. You have no idea who the man was in the picture or anything about what's going on.

"Allison, how long will this affect him? Will it wear off?" Luther asks, turning to her.

"Yeah, he'll be able to move again if I leave the area, but how can we trust that he won't teleport away?"

"Ittthhh'ss nawwwwt theleporthinnnngggggghh," Five couldn't help but correct others even when no one could understand him.

"You're right, it's best that we keep him contained." Luther says with a serious look, getting ideas as he zones out.

"What is with you and locking your siblings up?" Diego asks, scoffing and standing up as he walks away from the couch and comes back to say his piece. "He can just poof away anywhere we put him." You didn't like the way things were turning out. They clearly didn't trust Five at all. But you had no place here to make a choice.

"Not everywhere." Vanya says, looking at them from the wide entryway of the living room.

#tua x reader #tua fanfic #tua #theboy #the umbrella academy #number5 #umbrella academy #umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy imagines #fanfic #five #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves #hargreeves x reader #hargreeves

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bitch-butter · 3 years

Text

Little bit of a rivers prequel exploration. I've mentioned this scene a few times in the series, but it's not really my intention to do anything that takes place before part one, so this was just going to like slowly asphyxiate in my drafts unless I released it lol

She's going to live on Tumblr unless I somehow decide I want to do more of Whatever This Is in the future, but since it takes place before the series you don't need to have read the other parts which is sexy.

Read More for like 3k of Gay Shit~

* * *

Hay wasn’t the smell that Joe would have gravitated to normally. The mulchy wetness in combination with the dry and yeasty texture always made him think of bugs, and this feeling was not a welcome one when forced to be bedded down on a big pile of the stuff. Each breath full of the smell was nearly enough to make him gag.

Still, beat sleeping outside. And the smell was strong enough to cancel out his own smell, which, he knows from experience, isn’t a walk in the park right now either.

He had settled into a comfortable enough doze by the time his mind caught onto the frankly annoying fucking snoring emanating from the corner of the barn. Cracking his eyes open, he glared into the corner where a Hoobler shape slump is curled up against the wall, snoring away into the dark with an unfamiliar body sprawled on the ground a few feet away, seeming unperturbed.

One fucking night is all he’s asking for. Fuck.

Pulling in an aggravated breath, Joe sat up from his hay-bed, contemplating whether or not to try and ignore the sound or move out completely to a quieter spot. He glanced towards the door of the barn, where clear moonlight cut across the ground to illuminate the dry, if a hint cold, night beyond. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to sleep out tonight if he had to, he supposed.

He’s taking in the details of the scene outside when he spots what looks to be the toe of a boot popping out from beside the doorway. For a moment his heart picks up, hand moving to grasp onto his rifle, but the boot doesn’t move, just remains planted solidly in the dirt. The longer he looks, though, the more he makes out a calf, leading to a body sitting against the wall outside.

It’s curiosity more than anything that brings him to his feet. What kind of guy doesn’t fucking drop the second he gets an opportunity?

Of course it’s Webster.

He doesn’t know why the realization brings a smile to his face. Why the sight of the other man leaning up against the barn, legs bent and beaten up notebook in his lap, makes him feel oddly alive. He doesn’t even know Webster that well, only spoken to him one-on-one maybe a handful of times at most, and definitely doesn’t know him as well as he knows some of the other guys.

But still, he feels light. Light enough to step outside and look down in amusement at Webster, who in turn looks up at Joe in bewilderment. “Trouble sleeping in the dirt, Web?”

Bewilderment turns critical as Web frowns, eyes falling back down to his book as he continues writing. “Not tired.”

Snickering, Joe stepped around Web to let his own back hit the barn, sliding down to slouch beside the other man. “Always knew there was something wrong with you.”

He’s digging for his smokes in his pocket when he realizes that Web’s hand has stilled, and that the other man is looking aside at him with an inscrutable expression, eyes glancing over Joe’s face in the near-dark. “What?” he asked, an edge of anxiety in his voice.

Web’s face clears in an instant. “Nothing,” he sighed, turning back to his book. Even in the shadows Joe can see the tips of his ears are red.

“Right,” Joe nods disbelievingly, holding out his pack in an attempt to dispel the strange air surrounding them. Web takes one gratefully, mumbling a thanks as Joe placed one between his lips, holding his lighter up between them. They bend in towards each other, close enough that Joe can smell Web; a dirty, grass-like smell with an undercurrent of that same sweat all the guys have now.

Better than hay, he thinks as Web draws back with his cigarette lit, before snapping the lighter closed and smoking in silence for a few moments. He finds his eyes drawn ceaselessly to Web’s pale hand as it moves across the page, turns to the next, and continues on. Web has good hands, he thinks to himself, before blinking the thought away.

Doesn’t mean he stops looking, though.

“What are you writing about?” he asks softly, voice creaking a bit.

Web looks at him, face more open as he sighs out a stream of smoke. “Eindhoven.”

“Got a dame you want to remember, huh?”

Web huffs a small laugh. “No,” he takes another pull on his smoke, breathing deep and exhaling steadily. “I just don’t want to forget what it was like. How it felt.”

Joe smiled quizzically. “Writing a book or something?”

“I don’t know,” Web replies, and it’s such an obvious lie Joe can’t help but laugh. This earns him a withering glare. “Even if I was, why do you care, Liebgott?”

“I don’t,” Joe bites, and it’s such an obvious lie of his own that Web laughs at him. “Guess I’m having trouble imagining anybody wanting to read about you.”

Web scowled at him. “Well, it wouldn’t be just about me, that’s not the point.”

“So you are writing a book?” Joe grinned, bringing his dying cigarette back to his lips.

Mouth opening and then closing just to open again, Web looks at Joe in bare-faced annoyance. “You...” he trailed, seemingly having trouble finding the exact right word to express how irritated he was.

“You’re going to catch flies, buddy,” Joe smirked, grinding the butt of his smoke in the dirt and almost snickering as Web’s lips clamped shut. “Anyway, don’t count your chickens, Webster. War ain’t over yet and I doubt anything you replacements have to say would be worth a damn.”

This snaps Web out of whatever annoyance induced fugue state he was entering. “I’m not a fucking replacement, Liebgott,” he snapped, eyes glinting at Joe’s in the moonlight. “I was in Normandy, same as you. And even if I hadn’t been, what gives you the right to treat me or any of the other guys like that?”

Scoffing, Joe found himself toeing the line between being amused at Web’s reaction and finding himself somehow actually getting hot. “Way I see it I get to talk to you or any of the other guys however I want,” he said, meeting Web’s eyes with no small degree of challenge. “Seeing as I was here from the beginning and all of you are just showing up to chew on the bones.”

Web stares at him for a moment, his pale face unguarded and awash with surprised pain. “So, what then? Babe isn’t Easy to you? I’m not Easy to you?”

“Babe proved himself.”

A sharp “Ha!” stung in Joe’s face as Web’s head tilted back momentarily, before the other man levelled him with a skeptical look. “You’re so full of shit that you don’t even realize you are, Liebgott.”

Joe shook his head, unsure of why the back of his neck was heating so rapidly. “Keep telling yourself that, Webster. Fact is, what you do out there’s going to matter more than whatever bullshit you’re scribbling in your diary.”

Web nodded mockingly. “Alright, Joe, so I just need to earn the approval of who? You?”

It’s said so sneeringly that Joe can’t help but be nasty back. “Eh, we’ll see if you make it back.”

The hum Web emits might be mistaken for a tease, but Joe can see the lines drawn on the other man’s face as he shoots his eyes down to the ground. “Right,” he nods, swiftly standing and grabbing his pack from the ground beside him, crushing his smoke under his boot. “I’ll take it into consideration,” he says, shooting Joe a dark look over his shoulder. “‘Night.”

Joe blinks and Web is striding away, almost in the space of a breath. “Sleeping outside is for suckers!” he calls.

“Fuck you!” Web called back, casual and unaffected as anything, blue eyes glancing over his shoulder and back at Joe. They shot fire at him, and Joe all of a sudden feels as though he’s been struck by lightning, heat zig-zagging from his head all the way down through his bones.

Inexplicably, he wants more of it.

As fast as Web was disappearing into the dark and the trees of the orchard beyond Joe is scrambling up, nearly running just to catch up with him. He settles at Web’s side as though they had not just devolved into verbal fisticuffs a few moments prior, and gleans some pleasure from the clearly agitated face the other man gives him as they continue moving along side by side.

“Yes?” Web prompts impatiently.

“What?”

He holds back a smile at the roll of Web’s eyes. “What do you want, Joe?”

Joe has to scoff, shaking his head in the splintering shadows the darkened trees cast over them. “Like I’d want a goddamn thing from you, Web.”

The chuckle that greets him catches him slightly off guard, and he finds himself glancing back at the other man’s dark profile, the smile turning up the edges of Web’s full lips -

He shakes his head.

“I don’t think you actually know what you want,” Web said teasingly, voice low in the quiet of the night, eyes darting over to catch onto Joe’s like hooks. “If you did you wouldn’t be following me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Joe challenged, eyes still caught up in the knowing gleam of Web’s even as he tried in vain to gather the strength to break the connection.

“You don’t know?” Web asked obliquely, an air of casual imperiousness settling over his words like a heavy fog.

All of a sudden they’re stopped in the dark, trees sprouted up all around them in a pattern that, were it light out, might have been effortlessly beautiful, but in the dark gave the distinct impression of a cage surrounding them, stars glimmering beyond the branches above like shattered glass. But he can see Web in uncomfortable clarity, stood before him with his eyes looking down on Joe like he knows something, like he has a secret that he stole away in the fucking dark of the night, and damn it Joe wants it back.

“I know a hell of a lot more than you think I do,” he utters in what he intended to resemble a growl, but comes out sounding much more like a rasp.

“Oh, really?”

He steps into Web’s space, expecting Web to do what any other guy would have done and take a step back, and is met instead with Web’s unflinching conceit. With this added proximity he finds himself swallowing down some unnamable wave that rushes up through his body and threatens to spill out of him and straight onto Web, and in the dark he can feel his neck flushing.

If he can see Web in the dark then no doubt Web can see him right back.

He does, because his eyes move effortlessly from amusement, to annoyance, to resignation. “You don’t know,” he says definitively, and Joe can almost feel the words moving through the air between them.

Web says this as though it’s supposed to end the matter, break the connection, and yet if anything Joe can feel him moving in even closer, and it’s pure stubbornness that keeps him rooted to his spot. “What are you doing?” he murmurs, eyes moving down along the planes of Web’s pale face, drawn like a magnet to the sight of the other man’s lips, which are pink, and parted, and -

“What am I doing?” Web whispered back, sounding almost as though he was talking to himself, but their faces hovered close to each other in the dark for too long for him to not know what he’s doing, and the way his eyes aren’t on Joe’s eyes but lower, lower -

“I…” Web trails away in the second before suddenly their lips are meeting. And Joe knows he didn’t move, and he didn’t feel Web move, but they’re together, they’re connected, their mouths are moving against each other as soft as fucking clouds and their noses nudge and Joe’s neck is hot and it feels perfect, it feels like heaven to kiss Web, he’s kissing Webster -

Reality shoots back into him like the sear of a bullet to the head, and as fast as their lips meet he’s shoving Web away. His hands meet Web’s shoulders roughly, pushing him with strength that he almost didn’t know he had in him, and where the fuck was this side of him back in Toccoa?

But he only gets to relish the gasp of air back into his body for a moment, as his forceful push sends Web careening back, feet tripping backwards over the knobby roots of the trees surrounding them, and he hits the ground hard.

“Oh, shit,” he spits, immediately moving to narrow the space between them yet again, dropping to his knees beside Web’s downed form. “Are you alright? I’m sorry, are you alright?”

For his part, Web looks a little dazed by the quick pivots of Joe’s mood in just the last few seconds, and blinks rapidly in the shadows before coughing. “You’re like a fucking child, Christ.”

“Hey,” Joe mutters, flush deepening with embarrassment, with confusion.

Web’s eyes are on him again, and he only just keeps himself from shrinking back because where he had anticipated the usual swell of annoyance or of, please, anger, Web appears almost hesitant and...what? Fearful? His gaze moves over Joe’s face quickly, as though measuring every line, every angle, searching for something.

“What?” Joe croaks. “You scared?”

Swallowing heavily, the other man quirks a disbelieving eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”

“No, I -” he starts, before abruptly halting. It’s a lie, he is afraid. But not of Web, who’s still looking at Joe like he half believes Joe’s going to clobber him, but of himself. He’s never done anything like that before, never even allowed himself to linger on the thought of it for longer than the space of one thought between another. Certainly he hadn’t ever drawn Web into those fleeting moments. Well, not in a traditional way at least.

If he palmed his cock and saw Web’s hands, or the curve of his jaw, then that’s nobody’s business. He thinks about a lot of things.

“No,” he settles.

Web doesn’t look like he quite believes him, if the distressed curve of his lips is anything to go by, and Joe reaches out to settle a hand on his neck just to see the way his eyes widen. He swallows, feeling a shiver pass through him at this simple, voluntary touch, and before he knows it he’s smiling, and at the sight of his smile Web is smiling back. And if he’s been paying special attention to parts of Web lately his smile hasn’t been one.

It is now.

“Alright,” Joe whispers through half of a chuckle, shaking his head. “Can I kiss you again?”

Smile melting from relief to happiness, Web looks as though he’d do just about anything Joe asked him to, but he manages to huff a tiny laugh first. “Are you going to push me again?”

Rolling his eyes, Joe tugged at his light hold on Web’s neck, blood heating at the way the other man’s eyes fluttered. “No.”

Shifting up from where he’d been braced back on his arms, Web reached out to take gentle hold of either side of Joe’s face, one hand combing back through his dirty hair. “Then yes,” he nodded. “Yes, please.”

This time they pull each other into the kiss, their lips meeting again just as softly as before, slotting together with an ease that felt almost unnatural with disuse. His hand rubbed clumsily at the skin of Web’s neck, easing himself back into the rhythm of kissing. It wasn’t enough that he hadn’t kissed anyone since Georgia, but now he’s kissing a man on top of that, and the combination of sensations has him shuddering and hardening in his pants even before he feels Web’s tongue gently asking permission into his mouth.

His mouth falls open with the slightest pull to his hair, and he welcomes the other man’s tongue with a grace he honestly feels he should be lauded for. He’s been with some forthcoming dames, to be sure, but none of them have felt this strong or as sure in his arms, letting Joe take and taking Joe right back. It’s something he could easily get addicted to, he thinks, as his tongue presses in to play over Web’s and he firmly wraps his other arm around the other man’s waist.

Web’s arms wrapping around his neck are overwhelming at first, before he feels their bodies, pressed together, easing back to rest on the dark, mossy, ground. They settle side by side, facing each other, legs fumbling and maneuvering around until Web has one leg thrown easily over Joe’s hip and Joe has one knee pressed steadily between the spread of Web’s thighs.

They split apart at the first accidental nudge of their crotches against one another, Web gasping and Joe hissing, before Web begins gently kissing down along his jaw.

“You taste like olives, a bit,” Joe said hoarsely, catching his breath as though he just ran up Currahee.

“Oh, sorry,” Web apologized, glancing back up at Joe’s face with a furrowed brow.

Joe shook his head, pressing a kiss just off Web’s lips. “I like olives,” he rebuffed, pulling their mouths back together in a smacking kiss. “Fuck,” he gasped softly, pressing in to kiss along Web’s neck beside his ear. “You done this before?”

Web breathed out a little tremble, smoothing his hand up Joe’s back. “Kissed a man?”

“Yeah,” Joe rasped, swallowing heavily as his hips rolled against Web’s own, lazy but with intention.

The nod of the other man’s head draws him out of his fascination with Web’s neck, and he finds himself pressing an exhilarated kiss against Web’s cheek as he speaks. “Yes,” he admits in a whisper. “Not- ah, not many, but yes, I -”

He’s laying another, harder kiss against Web’s lips at the self-conscious wobble of the words, his tongue sweeping through Web’s mouth as though to gather them and take them back into himself. Groaning as the leg Web had thrown over him tightened, bringing them almost fully flush, he brought one hand down to grasp tightly at the meaty flesh of the other man’s thigh, pulling it gently upwards and had to smile at the pleased hum that rattled around Web’s body.

“Have you?” Web asked gently.

Joe shook his head. “No.”

“Oh,” Web murmured, pulling in a deep breath at the steady roll of Joe’s hips against his own, head falling back against the darkened soil and baring his neck for Joe, who immediately resumed kissing along its length. “Lieb...Lieb…” he breathed, almost absentmindedly as Joe realized exactly how much he enjoyed when Web said his name. “Joe...we should- we should pump the breaks a bit.”

Pulling his face from the hot expanse of Web’s neck, Joe frowned down at him. “What?”

“No, I -” Web swallowed, giving his head a clearing shake and blinking back towards Joe with a little more clarity. “I like it, I like it a lot, I’d just rather do this on the other side of tomorrow, if you know what I mean.”

The heat still pulsing through his veins screamed its discontent, but Joe reluctantly acknowledged that wherever this interaction was heading was now paused for the time being.

Figures, Web looks the part of a fucking tease, after all.

“Alright,” he muttered, releasing Web’s thigh with no small degree of bitterness, letting Web ease himself back just enough for Joe to feel distinctly burned. He sat up with a gently heating face, mindful to keep himself angled away enough that Web wouldn’t be able to see it, and looked around the orchard surrounding them, searching out anything to anchor his eyes to so that he didn’t have to think about Web’s lip, his legs, his eyes in the dark -

Eyes that meet his own once more, his chin caught gently in the other man’s warm palm as Web turned his face back. Web, at the very least, seems just as put out at stopping as he does, and for a moment he wants to be an asshole, wants to fight, but can’t bring his mouth to do anything but fall open, breathe.

“Can I?” Web asked quietly.

Joe could only nod.

The kiss is as light as a feather, whispering across his lips like dust settling, and he hums into the feeling and, suddenly, feels at peace. He runs one hand through Web’s hair, smoothing it, and gathers up the heat from the other man’s neck in the palm of his hand, bringing it back to himself like he had stolen his secret back from where Web had hidden it.

He pulls back softly, face still angled into Web’s sphere. “See you on the other side, huh?”

Web sighed, nose brushing Joe’s own, and closed his eyes for a moment before opening them to look teasingly back at him.

“Arschloch,” he drawled, pushing Joe back with a soft touch to the base of his neck before standing, brushing dirt from his pants, and taking off into the darkness of the orchard without a glance back at Joe.

Joe watches him go, seeing for the first time the length of his limbs, the curve of his ass, and allows himself to want. He, as fast as lightning, very badly wants to find a patch of darkness to crowd him into tomorrow night.

If Web makes it back. If they both do.

Without a second thought, he’s up and following Web into the dark, ignorant and uncaring of their destination.

#webgott #~rivers~#i write variations of webgott where they've lived in their dynamic for a while #so it was fun and interesting to write a bit about their early relationship to each other #for $10 i will stop posting long ass fic excerpts on tumblr

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blankdblank · 3 years

Text

Ash Pt 7

“Oh,” escaped your lips in a near collision with Celebrimbor’s chest that had you flash him a quick grin and say, “Sorry, lost to my thoughts.”

“Not a trouble at all, Your Highness.” However his eyes sank to the new chain around your neck that had his lips part to the obvious antler pendant that was a twin to his old friend’s he wore around his own neck. “Might I ask, Your Highness, where did you get that necklace?”

“Um, well, I don’t really remember. Just always sort of had it that I can recall. Apparently according to the chest it opens it means Thranduil is, well, that I’m, his One?” you asked through an awkward flash of a grin on how to word it right. “At least that is the term he used in explaining it to me. Everyone has one, a One? I don’t fully understand how to say it properly, among other things.”

Sloppily his smile had been spreading to your fumbled try to be calm and accepting about this new development in this monumental find for the once so hopeless King now set for a brilliantly bright and cozy future with such a kind considerate One to scare off his sorrows and miseries. “You have expressed it plainly and without fault. I congratulate you on this discovery. Truly now that this is discovered it may aid in planting roots here amongst our kin had you any doubts on comfort here.”

You nodded at a loss for what else to do and then asked in a glance at his fishtail braid draped partly across his chest in a slump from his shoulder thanks to the large bow on his back. “Would I be allowed to braid my hair back tonight? Last night everyone seemed to have theirs loose, and mine can be a bit hard to keep managed it seems while dancing, and drinking.”

“Wear your hair how you wish, Queen Jaqiearae, however you find comfort and ease. Shall you wish for one of our best amongst Ladies Maids who might assist you with a style of our culture to try something new?”

“That, doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Wouldn’t want to walk in with a bad braid to pair with the gowns and crown Thranduil and the Seamstresses designed for me.”

Promptly he nodded and stated, “I will send word at once and they should be at your dwelling promptly,” and in the click of the end of his bow to his quiver he was off and you turned to see him round the corner.

Softly saying, “Thank you,”

And true to his word the Master Smith was off to inquire about a hairdresser for you of the best they had to offer while on his larger plan to spread the news as rapidly and as far as he possibly could before the celebration would kick off adding another layer of elation to the occasion. By the time you had exited your quick bath in a plushy robe around your towel the pair of Elleths had arrived and with a joint cautious curtsy asked permission to get started and together they guided you to a stool and once you’d removed your hair from its wrap to keep it dry during the bath they got to weaving it into a regal style that would suit your look and not trouble the swan crown that again you would be wearing.

“What is this I hear of your informing the kitchen staff of the opening of King Thranduil’s trunk of Ones he was gifted?” Glorfindel asked with chest puffed out in a means to try and diffuse this situation he had no inkling on how the Smith had discovered this without listening through the apartment doors to their conversation with the King.

Celebrimbor’s wide smile returned in taking notice of his friend’s clear internal knowledge of this fact, “Queen Jaqiearae herself shared the news with myself on her way to prepare and I am returned from passing on her request for aid with her hair for tonight.”

Glorfindel raised a brow, “She wished to look special?”

“There was an inquiry on if a braid would be socially acceptable for this occasion. I am not aware of what style she might have been intending to try however I suggested our stylists might aid in help for a style from our culture.”

Glorfindel, “And you took it upon yourself to share the news?”

“Yes,” the Smith responded plainly. “Why? Upset that I spoiled your own plans?”

Glorfindel sighed and said, “I have to ready for tonight.”

Celebrimbor simply smiled wider and followed him asking, “And just what do you have planned for tonight?”

“I cannot share my plan.”

“Ooh, now I am doubly interested.”

“Contain your interest these are sensitive matters and if the Queen has informed you herself then I shall allow this to pass.”

“Mhmm, I will follow up on this.”

“If I am successful I will have some news sharing of my own.”

Pink, again backless with straps zig zagging across the back of the strapless gown that from the hip down was heavily ruffled that to an extent spurred an urge to twirl and send the wild ruffles about your legs hugged you to perfection leaving you without far of a single shift or slip. To go with the additional strand of alternating glowing round lasgalen stones and yellow sapphires to fill the gap between the lone strand and the chain with your key necklace that somehow felt wrong to remove before morning the swan crown you were given sat securely on top of the lovely braid the duo had helped to wrangle your stubborn curls into. Now past your hips that star speckled ebony curls hung in the braid that was wound up with lengths of ribbon and jeweled clips and pins topped with shimmering feathers.

Again entrance to the grand entrance hall where the stream of the celebration would begin left you frozen on the other side of it. Deeply a breath flooded into your lungs and gave you the strength to press onwards and take those steps to enter. Again the announcement of the title came and with it more smiles and stares than before that you didn’t expect and in glances to the new addition to your neckline the reasoning became clear. It seemed the news was out and to the assigned seat beside the light red robe clad King you moved through the crowd to claim it when it was moved back for that purpose. Compliments were traded once both King and Queen had taken their seats and Lord Celeborn headed the speech for tonight, after which a timid sip of wine was taken.

But dancing again though found a second glass downed and smiles out again with King who slipped for yet another dance between pre chosen dance partners for both. The light of the stars however in a pass between dance floors focus was lost until a voice drew you back to the present. Lord Glorfindel who smiled as he asked, “Would you care for another drink, Queen Jaqiearae?”

When your eyes met his a simple shake of your head was his first response, “No, thank you I am attempting to limit myself until I am more accustomed to wine.”

“There is more to offer besides wine, should you wish it.”

“Thank you all the same.”

“I take it your last night must have been weighty to cast such limits on the second. How might I ease your concerns, please do share what has troubled you, truly there is not much that could have occurred the night prior one of us in our youth has not faced in becoming accustomed to our vast supply of wines.”

Clearly he could spot the hint of reluctance and mask of a smile that had him more certain than ever your words were a farce. “I seem to have lost a break from the dance floor to a goodnight escort from the King.”

“Most often those blanks that even I have encountered will fill in, do not feel such weighty rules are required. No judgments will be made your friends are here to watch over you and ensure safe return to your rooms each night.”

“That is very kind of you, however, I cannot risk repaying all your kindnesses by ending up a fool in front of my new friends.”

“You will never be a fool and never have been or ever will be. What do you remember?”

“If anyone was to remember the gap King Thranduil might, and he has made it clear he doesn’t.” That had the Lord smirk in the turn of your head to the arrival of the Elf who had requested your next dance who you nodded your head to and then said to Lord Glorfindel, “For now, if you’ll excuse me, time to bound.”

While you were off to the dance floor on his heels he turned to find Thranduil in his own dance. Right up behind the King in timed back steps between the couples he strode light on his feet while he leaned in to lowly state in Doriathian that only he would know after a check of who was around him to know which dialect to use for optimum secrecy. “The impression of ignorance you gave was too convincing.”

Over his shoulder Thranduil glanced at the Lord asking, “Would that not be the intention of feigning ignorance in the first place?” Continuing to dance while the Lord moved along to avoid an overlap of paths between couples before the lift that followed with a chance for him to come back to the King’s back right after.

“Not when the Queen in question was in wait for word that the King in question recalled said events to act upon them again and is now rationing wine to avoid a second instance where she may yet be rejected a second time.”

“Re-,” wide eyed in a frustrated huff the King glared at his friend then turned with forced softer expression to his partner in the lift.

“Toss a hint,” Glorfindel added then slipped away to leave the King in a whirl of a dance both physically and mentally.

Dances and a few more glasses of wine led to another escort to your apartment door. “Hint,” the word echoed in the King’s head all through the night and into the morning from his breakfast to the stroll in search of the Queen in question. Upon being found in transit from a stroll to view the lingering colors in the sky over the dew cast pastures by the stables his hand like silk eased itself around the bared wrist closes to him. In a pivot your head turned and the tension in that wrist relaxed to the known sudden captor with a deeply king gaze to the request of, “I am required for a few tasks, however, would an hour past noonday be acceptable a meeting time for our meeting to approach our clock again?”

The look would have been enough in the hint of a tilt to his head in a means of a try to plead silent on top of the request, like a giant fox cub who was trying to use its adorable face to its own advantage. And up you gazed at the King who had given a bat of his lashes around those eyes that you now realized where you had just seen the color after having since that first meeting had been in search of, sunlit dewdrops. The moment of speechlessness almost had him drop the hold directly. Yet the prickle of a blush that crawled across your cheeks held his hand in place to hear, “Yes. That would be a fine meeting time.”

Promptly he nodded and the firm hold his hand had taken went slack. From the wrist his palm and finger shifted through a glide of fingertips along your palm they traveled under to the pat of his free hand on top of the back of your captured hand. Terribly formal this was not a casual farewell gesture and if there could be any means of mistaking the meaning of the act as anything that could pass between someone who intended to just be a friend onto the back of the knuckles upon their lift he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss. Again the palm on top placed to coat the back of the captured hand that in his retraction step was released to a feel the same as water run off of skin, suddenly gone but the warmth of its contact still lingering. “I shall not hinder your amusement, and await our time together.”

Long as possible those eyes were locked on yours still on him through and after the responding nod until to his body’s full turn away they left you to turn stoic again with just a means to soften once they fell upon you again. ‘Success’ had been murmured inside his head to the unmistakable gesture of a hint. Kiss for a kiss to hint a clue familiarity of contact was welcome. Yet alone nothing but crickets sounded in the ears of the stunned Queen whose released hand sunk to curl and be coated by its twin in front of your belly.

“Your Highness?” The voice itself would have made you jump as you had nearly onto the steps to your right you had just entered from that called the hand of the sudden arrived Lord Celeborn that held you from a surely painful tumble down to the wet earth of the pasture you had been captured leaving. “Forgive my startling you,” he added to the resettle of feet underneath both shoulders in shocked means to find stability again. “Are you distressed? There was a puzzling expression on your face.”

“No,” you said in a sharp shake of your head for a terrible try to feign calm for the Lord peering down at you with his halfway slumbering middle child draped across his shoulders and head on their way to an early ride on their pony his other hand kept upright and from a fall to the sway of feet down his chest. “Just, distracted in thought. Excuse me, I won’t keep you.” His head gave a subtle nod to yours in a move to have the child again flinch upright like it hadn’t nodded off again to see your path down the hall opposite where the King had gone in his released anchor of a hand’s drop to his side again.

“Come now, my guiding wind, to the stables.” He hummed to the child in a mental note to discover the dilemma later by means of questioning his friends for the latest whispers about the King and Queen to form a fuller question until the former could be questioned in detail.

Public breakfast followed by a fitting for more gowns that were completed and just in time for the assigned meeting for the next session on the clock you were outside the elk etched doors to the King’s apartment. Hastily with a flick of your tongue across your lower lip your hand rose to curl up and give the left door a pair of knocks. The door did open after what seemed to be a clear sign that no one was home. However it merely opened a crack and curiously your head tilted only to see an Elleth with a bucket of supplies for the fires she had been tending that nearly swung into you in its slide around the door who gave you a quick nod of her head and stepped aside stating, “My apologies, Your Highness, I did not expect anyone on the other side of the door.”

“I, did knock, maybe not loud enough?”

“These doors are of enchanted wood, normally we crack doors open to knock when required. Or if you were to feel uncomfortable opening the door there are the drawstrings to announce yourself.” She said with a glance up that brought the loop on a woven chain that went through a small opening in the stained glass mural above the doors attached to the bell mounted on the inside of the doorframe identical to yours that you somehow hadn’t realized how to use the feature for other people’s apartments.

“Oh, thank you for telling me. Should have noticed that…” To her ease through the opening beside you on your step in uncertain of what else to say you turned to take hold of the door that from the corner of her eye she caught the timid ease of the door shut again. Uncertainty as to if you were alone here or not was broken by the sound of a glass being filled and a deep sigh that had you creep further into the apartment past the empty rooms to the doorway of the same sitting room that sat open revealing the King who in a nudge of his glass he had just set down the fingers of his other hand tapped the back of his chair. From the clear tries to distract himself Thranduil’s head turned with wide eyes and brows lifted to the timid knock you gave to the open door.

“Ah, I poured us some juice, are you thirsty? I presume your fitting ran late.”

“Thank you, for the juice. No, I did knock, I didn’t know about the bell and the muffling wood enchantment.” You accented with a point to the front door.

“I apologize, I must have forgotten include that note in the tour.”

You shook your head and said, “I’ve seen the bell at my door, it just never clicked in my head somehow.”

Just a moment he looked you over taking in the latest outfit he’d yet to see then his body flinched to ease your chair out that you crossed the room to settle into. “Fortunately you were only left waiting a few minutes and we have ample time to work before the lunch my latest undercook is preparing for us to fuel the rest of our time until the clock decides we are meant to stop again.” Your eyes were already on him when he settled into his own chair beside yours and looked to you to suggest, “Afterwards I was curious if you wished to go for a ride through one of our more scenic pathways to show you a bit more than just the palace.”

“Ride, ride how?”

“My Elk Tuo agreed to carry the both of us, if you are not open to that we may always take a ride later when you are willing.”

“As long as it won’t be fast, last animal I rode on was a sheep when I was little and that was entirely accidental.”

That had him grin to himself imagining that fumble and ways to have landed you wide eyed latched onto the back of a sheep for a slew of adorable imaginings of a tiny awkward and mishap prone you until the day of the bartering that inevitably landed you here. “I assure you Tuo will not push your comfort level and has given rides to Estel even and several young fauntlings, or Hobbit youth, while we stay in Lothlorien quite often, there is no doubts on my part for his gentle nature for timid riders on their first try.”

To a nod you said, “Sure, I’ve seen a few maps here and it seems a bit like the Palace is where everything is centered and there is just trees left to the animals around it at least to my view.”

“Precisely the reason to begin a few tours of the forest to acquaint you with the full workings of this kingdom to make you feel more at home. We will even cross one of our guard points that tomorrow if you wish we could arrange a treetop tour of that post watch platform if you wished.”

“Platform, you have guards in the trees? What if they fall?”

Grinning at you he said, “Centuries of training and several safety measures. Each branch is no less than ten yards across. And our trees give warning before they stretch or rearrange their branches to any within their hold.”

After a pause and confusingly blank face his brow rose then dropped to your saying, “Maybe, that would probably be the last thing I do to get used to being here.”

Softly he chuckled to himself and nodded, “Understood, and will not trouble any of our other tours there is ample to show you yet. We have barely scratched the surface, why even our far northern villages would be open to a tour, they have quite lovely ground level markets and guest areas amongst their tree top dwellings reserved for just their approved citizens, though of course should you master your tentative reluctance to climb our miles of staircases you would be granted a tour of their finest hidden gathering areas.”

“Because you would be bringing me?” You asked.

And he shook his head, “Not at all. Our forest has been whispering about its new Queen, quite favorably and they would welcome anyone who is seen favorably in unanimity of our trees who house and protect us and our loved ones.”

“Oh,” that had you nod again and in the sink of your eyes to his bent arm half rested on the table and the arm of his chair his head tilted in concern for what he might have said to upset you.

“Jaqiearae, what have I said?”

Again your eyes rose and after an open and close of your mouth you drew in a courage bolstering breath and asked, “When Estel got here, you had on armor.” To that he gave a nod and you asked, “What exactly would you need protection from?”

“Ah,” that had his hand move to shift and lay over the back of yours on the arm of your chair and he shared a bit on the warping of captured creatures into Goblins, Orcs and even Trolls that paired up with Wargs on occasion and to calm what he felt to be a justified raised pulse he added, “Rarely do we face attacks. Merely the pathways from Rivendell through the mountains have been uncertain as of late thanks to the shift of control of certain territories that Men have lost and been in a means to regain that require extra security for transport of travelers and goods.”

“And you’re, a good fighter? Certain people the King has to be the best, others the King is not put in danger, by my reading.”

“I am amongst our best warriors. Those who have fought in the Kinslayings do outrank me in skill by the spare centuries of war waging, but for those who fought beside me in the Wars of Wrath we are vastly higher in skill than those who were not alive in that age. I would not carelessly wage war or endanger myself or our people, ever. Rarely I join on guard but merely to remain present amongst any issues those on patrol might face.” His eyes scanned over your face in the nod and forced grin you gave him. “I promise you risking another loss in your life or that of my son’s will never be a welcome notion. I will avoid it at all costs. Have you learned any means of defense as a child?”

“Um, my cousin taught me how to use a slingshot and tried to show me how to be his sparring partner.”

“You learned how to spar?” he asked with brows risen.

“No, I held the sheet filled bag he punched and kicked, he taught me how to duck and weave to amp up the difficulty for him. So, fairly useless outside of magic.”

“You will never be useless. Duck and weave is quite an admirable foundation to begin with. Should you wish to revisit and expand upon those lessons we would be beyond welcome to assistance for those lessons. If anything to simply make you feel more at ease with a means to defend yourself if necessary.”

“Maybe after the feast. Hate to spoil the gown designs by showing off the bruises I no doubt will be receiving.”

“No one will bruise you, not one.”

“I jumped over a log tripped and hit my head on a root, no one has to bruise me at all I am quite adept at it on my own. Tuo can confirm.”

After a hinted playful gaze and huff he said, “Whenever you are prepared we shall arrange lessons for you.”

From the selection what seemed to be the base of the clock you continued to work the pieces in that stack together while from the head of the Elk Thranduil worked his way down. Around the legs of the clock rocks, interwoven roots and leaves came together, all in separate clumps that fixed together to overlap. “There is a second head…” Thranduil mumbled and lured your focus from your own pile to see the second head between his fingers.

“Well then there’s either two elk or there’s two headed Elk on the clock,” you teased and he chuckled and looked down to shift his fingers through the pieces to find the next one he needed. To the snap of another leaf to the root section you had just completed you asked blindly, “So, is there any other steps after the clock that we have to cheat death on?”

Aloofly you had asked and through a smirk he replied in an amused hum, “None such as the trunk. Each pair face their own tasks in realization as to their path ahead, however the trunk is the lone requirement by the Valar for Ones to complete together. I do believe we are making admirable bounds in completing each stack at this pace.” His eyes again shifted to scan over your puzzling expression. “Was it a hope of yours to have another task?”

“Just interesting, one person from the pair gets the chest.”

The underplayed hint of jealousy had him smirk and then hum, “Feel free to invent a challenge of your own for us to complete or a task you wish for me to undertake on my own to make up the slight to your side of the bond.”

“Careful, you may regret that offer not knowing what I might come up with.”

“I highly doubt I could ever regret a notion born of your imagination.” He said with a lingering smile laced gaze that you held still absolutely confused as to what this bond between you now meant and if that was why he had kissed your hand earlier or if he had remembered the night when you had kissed him and now felt with the bond he was forced to. Gently however the move of his free hand over yours lying on the table snapped that train of thought to a halt, “Choose whatever your heart wills and I will do my best to not disappoint.”

A cleared throat from the doorway however had your heads turn and his hand to retract for a sting until the motion was used to answer the cook’s announcement that the meal was ready. Up he stood and moved to help you out of your chair with hand offered again once yours were free to guide you to the table that had a hearty lunch to fuel the rest of your day until the feast would begin.

Pt 8

@devilishminx328, @fandomsstolemylife00, @lilith15000

#Thranduil x OC #The Hobbit #Night 2 #Give A Hint #Day 3 #Clock Session

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talesmaniac89 · 4 years

Text

Tag, You’re It

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: The reader challenges Dean to a round of laser tag, to see who’s really the best shot.

Triggers: None really, just fluff

Y/N = Your name | Y/E/C = Your eye colour

“Pull in here Dean!” You bounced excitedly in your seat as you pointed to the arcade in front of you. Smile wide and (Y/E/C) eyes bright with the premature rush of a challenge as you twisted in your seat to raise a teasing eyebrow at the grumbling hunter.

Dean Winchester, however, didn’t seem as excited for the prospect ahead of him. Even though he’d been all for it when you’d raced him to the car. All big words, sharp eyes and squared shoulders, ready to prove you wrong on your assumption that you’d beat him in a one to one shoot out.

Of course, he’d probably also not thought you’d be dragging him to the closest arcade to put his bragging to the test straight away. Considering the challenge, he’d most likely considered it to at best involve a gun range and at worst a bunch of tin cans in a pretty little line.

“Are we really doing this?” Dean groaned, though he still turned into the car park with a grimace and hesitant green eyes locked on the big, faded ‘Fun Land’ sign in front of the door. Seeming less impressed by the second as he took in the crumbling facade.

Honestly, the place had seen better days.

The sign looked like it was just one bad gust away from crashing to the ground. The ‘F’ was faded and dented enough to barely be visible at all, renaming the old arcade to ‘Un-Land’ instead. And the obvious signs of rust creeping in from the sides of the vintage styled metal hinted at years of neglect. But hell, it was the only arcade in a 10-mile radius, and it would have to do.

Hopefully the equipment inside wasn’t in as bad of a state as the outside. The reviews had been good online after all. Though you were still adamant that you could beat Dean in a shoot off even if your only available weapon was a peashooter.

“Hell yes we’re doing this. If you’re gonna brag and say you’re better than me, you have to be ready to put your money where your mouth is,” You grinned, reaching for the door as soon as he pulled the Impala into one of the many available parking spots.

Based on the ghost town of a parking lot; the old and rundown arcade was pretty much empty. Which was what you’d been aiming for when you pulled Dean along early on a Monday morning. You didn’t need other soldiers on the battlefield if you were going to show him you were the better shot. Though, in your own totally humble opinion, the place could’ve been full, and you’d still come out on top of any damned leader board. You knew your way around guns.

Any type of gun.

“But… Laser tag? Isn’t that just for kids’ birthday parties and boring stripper-less bachelor parties?” Dean’s deep voice was right behind you once he spoke up again. Sending surprised little pleasurable shivers up your spine as you turned to face him, nearly bumping into his chest from how close he was.

It took you a second to find your voice; your head loud with some not-so-innocent thoughts about the gorgeous hunter in front of you.

Damn it.

It was unfair how mentally tongue-tied he could leave you by just standing that little bit too close to you. Those broad shoulders and muscular arms easily brought with them fantasies best reserved for the four walls of your own room back at the bunker at any given point of the day. Even more so when they were close enough for you to run your fingers over.

Especially when the rest of the man was just as sinfully gorgeous. From those slightly bowed legs and his perfectly toned chest, making you wonder how all of him would feel pushed up against you, one strong thigh between your legs and calloused fingers circling your wrists. To those tempting full lips and that defined jaw peppered with just the right amount of stubble to make you want to trace it with your tongue. And of course, your favourite pair of bright green eyes; easier to get lost in than any national forest.

Ok, so maybe you had a tiny bit of a crush on the wilderness that was Dean Winchester.

Which meant the added bonus of getting some time alone with him did add to your giddy energy. But it was 99% about proving him wrong… Or maybe 75%, at least. Swallowing down your own dirty mind, you pushed your thoughts aside along with the buzz in your veins from reacting to the near magnetic pull of him by walking backwards towards the door to the arcade.

“Well, bachelors and birthday parties will have to wait in line. Right now, it’s a way for me to kick your ass,” You shot back, a little too late and too weak, when you found your voice again. Adding a secret ‘and to help you de-stress’ to yourself as he rewarded your teasing words with a roll of his eyes and a huff before he followed you to the door.

Dean had been a bit on edge lately. Not that you blamed him. But it hurt to watch him pace the floor dragging a fidgeting hand through his hair and not finding any outlet for his nervous energy. Which was really why you’d challenged him in the first place.

You both turned to your little challenges whenever one, or both, of you were on edge from the tense lack of action between hunts. It made the quiet days easier to deal with when you had nothing to hit. He was your best friend, even if you felt more than just friendship for the hunter, and you just wanted to help him. To make him smile again.

There had always been a great chemistry between you two. Some intuitive part of you that just knew when the other was hurting, or needed an outlet for the building adrenaline, energy and frustration. Maybe it was just friendship, maybe it was something more. Personally, for you it was definitely the latter and sometimes you believed it was the same for Dean. You’d just not been able to own up to it properly yet. At least not enough to find the needed courage to test your theory that those hidden glances you sometimes caught out of the corner of your eye meant he felt the same way you did.

“I don’t know…” Dean sighed as you turned on your heel to push the door open, happy to see the inside looking a hell of a lot more modern and cleaner than the fading outside shell of the building. Hopefully their ‘state of the art’ laser tag arena lived up to the hype you’d read about online. Each session apparently came with a scoped rifle, a handgun and a ‘smoke grenade’ that was more a burst of steam than anything. All set in a dark maze made to look like an abandoned warehouse.

A setting you were both intimately familiar with from your many hunts.

“You’re just scared ‘cause you know you can’t beat me,” You sing-songed teasingly as you nearly skipped towards the reception desk. Happy to see that the inside looked as empty as the parking lot. Which meant there shouldn’t be too long of a wait. And hopefully you’d have the whole arena to yourselves. So you could properly school the hunter.

“Oh… It’s on…” Dean winked at you. That boyish half-grin chasing away the rest of his annoyed reluctance as he fell into step next to you. Bumping a toned bicep against your shoulder when you rewarded his agreement with a loud victorious laugh which only sounded louder in the empty arcade.

Ok, so it was more than just a tiny crush.

You loved Dean Winchester. You just needed to get your shit together for long enough to tell him. Hopefully without destroying your friendship.

---

“Not fair (Y/N)!” Dean tried to sound annoyed as his vest blinked red to signal your clear shot to his chest, but the laughter soaking the words took the edge off it.

You’d been kicking ass and taking names for the first fifteen minutes of the thirty-minute round. Though Dean kept telling you it was only because you kept hiding from him. Either that or because the gun was lighter, he was new to laser tag, or one of a million other whiny excuses.

For the first ten minutes, the big guy hadn’t taken your game seriously. Allowing you to easily duck around corners and sneak up on the hunter. Your movements hidden by the music and the blinking lights as you used your handgun to get in a clean shot before running away laughing. Blatantly ignoring the ‘no running’-signs that littered the walls.

Once your point lead had been announced at the ten-minute mark however. Then the game became deadly serious. Forcing you to switch tactics to keep your lead. Finding the high ground and dropping to the floor to use your scoped rifle to snipe at him from behind the chain link fence on the higher platform.

Which was exactly where you were as he called out to you above the music and teased a laugh from you that gave away your position. Leaving you just a few short seconds to roll to the side and scramble back up on your feet before he closed in on you. Easily getting in a shot at the back of your vest just before you rounded another corner.

---

His points were closing in on yours.

“Stop moving so much! You’re cheating!” Dean’s laughter sounded from somewhere behind you as you raced towards another corner with a loud, breathless laugh of your own.

The twenty-minute mark had seen a point score that was both in triple digits and the distance between your points was shrinking fast. The hunter’s longer strides left you to run away, ducking and rolling half the time as he kept trying to get in shots at you while you zig-zagged away from him.

“All’s fair in love and war Dean!” You shot back with a breathless laugh over your shoulder before rounding the corner and jumping a small barrier to lie in wait, knowing he’d follow you around it sooner rather than later. Switching from your rifle, you aimed the handgun towards the corner and held your breath. But there was no sign of those bright eyes and boyish grin coming into view around the corner.

Where was he?

“Got you,” Dean’s voice in your ear teased a childish squeal out of you as he snuck up on you and got another shot in. Damn it. You were tied.

Laughing you turned towards him and winked before easily using your smaller size to your advantage, ducking under his arm and rushing around another makeshift barrier. Nearly sliding on the floor from the sharp left turn before turning to walk backwards and waiting for him to hit the slippery patch that almost made you stumble. Gun aimed and finger on the trigger.

You barely got the shot fired through your loud laughter as Dean came into view around the corner. Stumbling over bowed legs as he fumbled with his gun. The Winchester curse striking again.

The brothers somehow both always seemed to nearly drop whatever weapon was in their hands at least once. Luckily, this time, you could use it to your advantage as you ducked, dropped and rolled. Getting around the corner with another breathless chuckle at Dean’s curses from around the corner.

---

Your back and forth point-lead kept changing as Dean copied your earlier tactic; sniping at you from the top of one of the structures you didn’t even know how he climbed. While you tried to hide around corners and fire blindly in his direction. Both of you breathless and hot as the robotic voice signalled the last few minutes had started.

The final countdown propelled Dean into further action as he jumped nimbly down from his vantage point to chase after you again. Sniping was good for steady points, but not much of a winning tactic with only minutes left to spare.

You had the lead, but only barely and Dean was hot on your heels as you ran around another corner, only to run straight into a dead end. If he caught you in there, he was sure to win the whole game by simply locking you in place and firing blindly around the corner.

You only had a few seconds to formulate your plan. Which was probably what made you throw caution to the wind as you kept your gun by your side instead of aiming it at where he was sure to show up. Deciding, hell, two birds, one stone, just as Dean came around the corner.

Eyes shining bright with early victory as he lifted his gun.

Before he could fire however, you ducked under his aim and pushed him against the wall. Your hand flat against his vest as you pushed yourself up against him. Hating the fact that the rigid plastic of the laser tag vests was keeping you from feeling his body against yours. You knew you should probably take a second to think things through. But, you were acting on adrenaline; the only way you ever managed to muster up the courage to do something absolutely insane.

Both when it came to hunts and your own non-existent love life.

So, before Dean could speak up or fix his aim, you let your hand slide against the back of his neck and pulled his head down towards yours. Your lips pushing against his in a quick, breathless and giddy kiss. Barely allowing yourself to linger at the taste of him or let the world fall away around you before you stepped back, just as Dean’s lips became pliable against yours.

The quick-witted hunter, did however have lightning fast reflexes after years in the business. So, before you could fully slip away from his arms, he’d reached out to pull you against him again, wrapping strong arms around your waist. Pupils blown and lips slightly parted as he let his tongue wet them, tasting you on them.

The growl that left him was low and deep in his chest, yet from this close you could easily hear it above the music. The animalistic need in it sending shots of heat through your system. He wanted this, he wanted you, and damn it, you wanted to properly savour him as well. To fully let yourself drown in the taste of peppermint and spice that you’d only gotten a small teased hint of.

But that would have to wait until after you won the game and proved you were the better shot. You were nothing if not stubborn after all.

And so, you only allowed him to pull you back against him for a few short seconds. His lips parting as he groaned against your mouth, all willing and wanting. Teasing a moan from you that he easily swallowed as his hands roamed against your sides, seeming annoyed at the hard plastic that stopped him from tracing your curves.

An annoyance that only grew when you pulled away again and he pushed his torso forward trying to follow. A greedy mouth looking for yours with a greedy desperation as you raised the handgun and stepped back away with a smirk and a wink.

Dean’s eyes were so focused on your lips that he barely even seemed to notice the gun until you took proper aim. Green eyes widening, though he made no move to raise his own. Still too stunned and rattled from your surprise kiss.

Letting your teeth grazing against your lower lip; you shot him at point blank range before turning with a laugh and walking away. Your pace unhurried and an extra little swing to your hips from where you felt his eyes roaming your body in jeans you knew for a fact were very flattering. Leaving the big guy dazed against the wall; his own gun forgotten in his hand and the win as good as yours.

By the way his eyes burned into your body before you slipped around the corner, counting down the last seconds, you already knew how you’d be celebrating your win. Pushed up against a wall somewhere as Dean’s lips explored your neck and mouth properly. Teeth marking your throat and a dangerously low groan trapped in his chest. One big hand circling your wrists and keeping them pushed over your head to stop you from running away again and one big, toned thigh pushed between your legs.

Not that you minded. Hell, that would be way better than any trophy or money you could ever win from your challenge.

Tags:

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler @akshi8278 @justanotherwinchester @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @all-will-be-well-love @wearesuchstuff1 @thefridgeismybestie @adoptdontshoppets @punof-agun

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @hobby27 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sea040561 @donnaintx @alwaysdreamingforthebest @thatmotleygirl @chocolateheart @superfanficnatural @flamencodiva @starryeyeseunbyul

---

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jj-lives · 4 years

Text

Sing to Me: i can hear you open up to breathe

Song is Shake it out by Florence + The Machine if anyone hasn’t heard it. I imagined tempo and acoustic similar to the Glee rendition of the song. Naya Rivera’s voice haunts me in the first verse. Highly suggest this version, don’t be snobs cuz it’s “Glee” lol. Enjoy. I may have a part 2 or 3 planned.

ao3 link

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The crowd’s booing echoes long after the man trudges off stage. They’re not being fair. She thinks he wasn’t horrible. Maybe not on par with the other talent before him, but not horrid. Drinks flow steadily from behind the bar. Verbal jeers rising as inhibitions drop. Fate would have been kinder to showcase him first, before the crowd became bold with alcohol filled bellies.

“Poor guy.” Ever the empathetic one, Ruby is quick to applaud, though she’s the only one.

“Don’t encourage that.” Their other friend speaks up from her right. “He was horrible. I saw no breath control, and he was so -pitchy.”

“Not everyone can be classically trained like you!” Ruby shoots back. “Who could control breaths while crying. I swear there were tears in his eyes as he ducked behind the curtain.”

Their bickering continues, muffled now by the shouts for the next performer to take the stage. The set is early. They don’t care that they chased the last one off ten minutes early.

Servers hurry to replace empty glasses; tributes to placate the ravenous horde, but their hunger is for entertainment not drink. Yang wonders if their demands now turn for more blood. The one constant ringing true throughout history - men are never sated. Always they want more, and more. Having a taste of viciousness, would anything curb that appetite now?

She spares what little empathy she can for the next performer, wishing it into the universe in hopes to protect them, even but a bit, from what’s to come. Ruby worries for the wrong person, his embarrassment although tragic is now over.

“Here we are now, entertain us.” It rings over and over, so much so Yang can’t tell which are the true roughened lyrics and which are the reverberations from the rafters.

A girl rushes from side-stage, skidding to a halt a few paces in. It’s obvious from her deer-in-the-headlights look that she’s been rushed, pushed up there, like a lamb to slaughter. A simple acoustic guitar hangs from her white-knuckled left fist. She wears simple clothing, no fancy dress or designer jeans, no blazers or grunge band shirts hang off her frame. There’s nothing to indicate this girl’s trying to make an impression. Nothing saying she wants to be seen. The opposite in fact. She wears simple black jeans, blue converse and a long sleeved grey shirt. No gaudy jewelry or bold make-up marr her skin to grab the audience’s attention. Her hair is pulled back in a simple bun at the back of her head. Fingers tremble as they slide across her temple, tucking a wayward strand of ebony behind her left ear. Higher up, two points flatten as she takes the half a dozen strides to collapse on the stool awaiting her at center stage.

The horde goes silent, staring slack-jawed.

She’s a faunus.

Yang’s muscles all tighten. Only noticing the way her hands grip the table when a splinter wedges underneath a nail bed. She sucks in a breath, releasing her grip on the wood, claw marks a visible indicator of her instant unease. Faunus don’t showcase here and there’s a good reason for that. She searches the crowd for a manager, a bouncer, a goddamn server would do. Someone has to get her off that stage. A sharp tug at her elbow yanks her back into the booth. She doesn’t even remember standing.

“Where are you going?” Weiss glares at her, jaw clenched.

“Someone has to do something.” Already murmurs are rising up. Scornful, racist slurs whispering all around her. “They’ll slaughter her.”

“No one can stop this.” Weiss’ voice drops, saddened, resigned.

“A manager.” She stands again, determined to do something.

“Who do you think shoved her up there, Yang.” Ruby’s voice is opposite of her friend’s. All scorn and hatred. She’s never heard that tone from her sister before. “She’s a barback. I saw her earlier when I went to get our drinks. She works here.”

Yang falls heavily back into her seat and stares in horror at the uneasy flick of the girl’s ears. Ears that now have the attention of every racist blowhard in the joint. Her obvious nerves will prove her downfall, they aren’t something a drunk, malicious pack will ignore. She’s become their prey, at no fault of her own, or even under her own decision. She’s been forced into an impossible situation against her will.

Yang growls aloud.

Weiss’ cautious stare flicks from her to Ruby. “We should go.” She says at last. And Yang knows her reasons. She doesn’t want to see what’s coming, doesn’t want them to see what they all know is about to happen. Ruby releases a breath and Yang can see her nod in her periferal.

“Yang l-”

“I’m staying.”

“But-”

“You can go if you want.” Yang’s eyes haven’t left the stage. She watches as the girl busies her trembling fingers by tuning the instrument in her hands. The pickguard wears many scars and the body is faded where her forearm comes down to rest. Each chord plucked ends with a nod, meeting her approval.

“Are all faunus this’low?” A man slurs from somewhere off to Yang’s left. “No wonder they can’na keep any good jobs.” A roar of laughter ripples the air.

“Yang, let’s go.” Ruby pleads.

“I’m not leaving.”

“You can’t do anything.” Weiss reasons.

But they’re wrong. “I can stay.” They hover, concern in their eyes. Yang feels it. “Go, I’ll be alright.”

Doubt hangs in the air but it’s not spoken. Finally Weiss pulls Ruby from the bar by the wrist. They weave between the tables at a brisk pace. Yang watches the door swing closed when they leave.

Then she starts to sing.

“Regrets collect like old friends

Here to relive your darkest moments

I can see no way, I can see no way

And all of the ghouls come out to play”

She starts without accompaniment of her instrument. Voice: soft and fragile but with a haunting strain, she sings the first verse. Yang’s never heard anything like it. For the first time she wishes for different ears -like hers- if only to hear her better.

Her wrist moves, playing softly as her voice strengthens.

“And every demon wants his pound of flesh

But I like to keep some things to myself

I like to keep my issues strong

It’s always darkest before the dawn”

The once rowdy crowd is silenced, hypnotized by her. Eyes glued to her as hers remain on nimble fingers running along the guitar's neck with practiced ease. She doesn’t spare a glance to the patrons and hasn’t since she first took her seat, but the way she keeps returning to worry her bottom lip between piercing teeth relays her fear.

“And I’ve been a fool and I’ve been blind

I can never leave the past behind

I can see no way, I can see no way

I’m always dragging that horse around

Our love is pastured, such a mournful sound

Tonight I'm going to bury that horse in the ground"

So enraptured Yang is, she doesn’t notice the whispers rise again. All her senses are focused on the beauty on stage. A brow furrows as she sings through the first chorus. Shoulders stiffen as a note is missed. Delicate eye’s slam shut and her voice quavers for the briefest of moments.

She plays on.

Mutterings of ‘faunus, animal, savage’ finally reach her. Yang curses them all to the deepest pits of hell. This girl’s not a savage or an animal. She’s an angel.

“And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back

So shake him off, oh whoa

And given half the chance would I take any of it back

It’s a final mess but it’s left me so empty

It’s always darkest before the dawn.”

Yang hears laughter off to her left and she’s sure it’s the same table the man hollered from earlier. Dying down to snickers, Yang tears her eyes from the stage with a pain almost physical. There’s a group of men, boys really, goading one of their own. Elbows jab at him teasingly as they whisper into his ears. Yang knows it’s coming, knows it before he sports a determined mask, before he lifts his mug to chug back the rest of the courage it contains. He stands.

“Look boys!” His booming voice carries, “Guess you can teach ‘em beasts a trick o’ two.”

Yang turns to the stage, hoping -in vain she knows- that he’s remained unheard on stage. A human might have been blessed in ignorance, but not her. Not when she can hear and see so much more than they. Yang watches her flinch, sinking lower on her stool. Her eyes shoot to the side, seeking help they both know won’t come.

The man continues, emboldened by his mate’s prodding. “They taught’er ta sing. Wonder if she can dance too.” Whistles rise up, taunting. “Give us a jig-” he hiccoughs through his laughter.

She stops playing, staring at the crowd. Pleading with them.

Yang turns to grab a server rushing passed. Glares daggers at her until eyes avert with a sad shake of her head. No one is going to help her. They’ll make her dance for their entertainment.

But she’s proud, or scared, and doesn’t move from her stool. After an eternity she strikes the cords in the same tune.

Yang prays it’s the end. Even as the same man steps out of the booth, she prays. She urges him to just leave it, to be headed home or even the restroom. His lumbering steps carry him in a wobbled zig-zag to the stage. Her fist throbs as it hits the table. She stands, moving before she processes what her next move will be. He’s intercepted not far from her abandoned table, the alcohol has made him bold, but also slow.

Yang anchors herself in his way. He tries to sidestep her. “I don’t need another drink, honey.” Her hand plants on his chest as he tries again to pass her.

“What you need is to go sit down.” Her voice is low, dangerous, but he misses the warning resting within her words.

“I’m just havin’ fun, she’ll be lucky ta dance with a real man.” He motions with one trunk of an arm to his goal. To her. “This’ll be a treat. After all ‘em savage brutes rutting up on her e’ery night she’ll enjoy-”

Yang hears a crack and she’s not sure if it’s his nose or one of her knuckles. But she stands where he crumples, unconscious to the beer soaked floor. Adrenalin pumping, Yang spins looking for her next target. Instead she’s met with boisterous laughs. They hoot and holler. And a few close enough pat her shoulder.

“Taken down by a girl,” they yell. His friends' angry looks are the only thing she contends with as they drag his limp body to the exit.

Behind her the guitar picks up and the girl begins to sing again, continuing where she left off. Yang stalks to the bar to order another drink, needing to calm her racing heart. Fists clench with a need to punch something or someone else. Whoever served up the faunus buffet is first on her list. A beer is placed before her. She looks up and sees the bartender smiling gratefully at her. “On the house,” he says. His eyes flick to the stage.

She forces a smile through still gritting teeth and turns, listening again to the girl’s angelic voice. It’s not her guitar she stares at as she sings this time. It’s Yang.

“And I’m damned if I do and I’m damned if I don’t

So here’s to drinks in the dark at the end of my road

And I’m ready to suffer and I’m ready to hope

It’s a shot in the dark and right at my throat

‘Cause looking for heaven, found the devil in me

Looking for heaven, for the devil in me

Well what the hell I’m going to let it happen to me

Shake it out, shake it out

Shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa

Shake it out, shake it out

Shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa

And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back

So shake him off, ooh whoa”

When the song ends she’s called off stage. It’s the first thing Yang’s grateful for all night. She stays to finish her beer. It’s the reason she tells herself. It would be rude not to finish the offered beverage, but when a cold cloth is placed over the knuckles of her right hand and she looks up Yang knows; she’s waited for her.

“Thank you.” Her voice is soft, careful. Unable to make eye contact with her now that only a bar separates them instead of a crowd. Her eyes dart everywhere except in her direction. She avoids her corner of the bar at all costs. Yang’s just happy to watch her. They don’t speak, but Yang’s gaze follows as she completes her duties. Her beer is replaced when empty, her money refused again. The girl looks up from filling the ice bucket and smiles softly at her boss, witnessing the transaction, or lack thereof. All Yang wants is to be the recipient of that smile, just once. She could die happy.

Hours later as she’s wiping down the bar Yang reaches out to touch her wrist. Her hand is snatched to her body with practiced reflexes. It breaks Yang’s heart. She deserves more than this fear humans instilled in her. Their eyes meet and Yang feels herself smile, genuinely, for the first time all night.

“When are you off?” Careful to keep her voice low. She doesn’t want to scare her. Yang hates that she’s already been responsible for that telltale constriction of her pupils.

“Why?” Her voice is just as careful as Yang’s, skeptical of her reasons.

“Do you-” Yang lifts her hand to scratch her nose, flustered by the amber that’s studying her now. “If you’d allow, I’d like to walk you home.”

“I don’t need supervision.” She turns to stack the clean glasses another faunus has brought out in a grey tub.

“I know, but I’d like to.” She watches Yang stretch her right hand, watches the wince Yang can’t completely hold back. No one has ever studied her as hard as the girl across the bar is now. “Just in case.”

“I’m off in an hour.”

“I’ll wait.” Yang nods as if sealing the deal. The girl grabs the empty tub and makes to disappear into the back. “My name’s Yang.” She blurts before she’s out of sight. “Can I please have yours.”

Without turning she answers, “Blake.”

#bumbleby #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #au fanfic #my writing #may have part 2 semi planned already

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novantinuum · 4 years

Text

Contact (ch. 1/4)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (TW: depiction of vomiting, this first chapter is pretty whump-esque)

Words: 3.0K~

Summary: The first (and with any luck, only) time it happens, he’s almost 16.

So this fic is Steven and Amethyst centric, set during the 2 year time skip. It’s also kinda in conversation with An Indirect Kiss, and explores the idea of what could happen to a hybrid with a cracked gem. Do note the warnings above. The first chapter is the only one that’s especially whumpy. It will be exactly 4 parts.

AO3 link can be found in the reblogs! Support there or here (via reblogs) is very much appreciated! <3

____

Chapter 1: The Mission

The first (and with any luck, only) time it happens, he’s almost 16.

His birthday’s only half a week out. Exciting as always, or at least it would be in other circumstances. Unfortunately, the Diamonds are breathing down his neck for him to celebrate his sweet sixteen (not that they understand what that is) on Homeworld. Even unfortunatelier, (is that a word?? He has a gut feeling Connie would tell him no, but oh well), the last time he saw Blue Diamond face-to-face, she mentioned wanting to personally throw a huge planet-wide ball in his honor.

And yeah, maybe he’s a little selfish for spurning their desire to spend more time with him, but truth be told, the center of attention is the last place he wants to be right now. He’s already spent so much time in their company over the past year, being carted around from planet to planet, formerly introduced in front of thousands of Gems on those outer colony worlds, tirelessly working to spread the news of the empire’s dissolution day in and day out. He’s tired. He misses his friends. He craves the privacy of his home, where he’s not constantly flanked by the volunteer guard when he so much as moves to fetch a midnight snack. More than anything, he needs familiarity. He wants to celebrate his birthday on Earth— like he always has— guilt-free.

Which is why it sucks that Blue didn’t take his gentle turn-down well.

“Seriously, and then she made you cry again?!” Amethyst spits out, kicking a rock as they tromp through the dense woods. “I thought you said she was getting better with that!”

“She is,” he says, and ducks to clear a low branch. “This is the first time she’s done it in like, five months. Growth isn’t always linear, y’know? And I get it, I do. They just wanna spend time with me, wanna learn more about all the human stuff that makes me who I am. That’s fine! I just...”

Steven sighs softly and pauses to lean against a sturdy tree trunk, puffy moss coating its entire diameter. The blistering summer heat coaxes droplets of sweat from his brow, which roll across cheekbones and towards his jaw. (And in the wake of this, he can’t help but be reminded of that bizarrely foreign feeling, of crying tears that aren’t his own, without consent, without resolve...)

“Wish it didn’t happen right before your birthday?” she tentatively completes, tone softer.

He shrugs, expression guarded.

Her lips purse as she regards him, and she goes silent. For a split second he wonders if maybe she heard something stalking around nearby— perhaps one of the straggling corrupted Gems they‘re trying to track down today? But no, more than likely, she’s probably lost in thought. That’s not uncommon for her, outside the heat of the moment. Even though she has the reputation of being the most impulsive of the four of them, there’s a clear deliberateness about her nature that often goes unstated. Her actions and words may be blunt, but when it really matters she does stack a lot of intent behind them.

Heh. She’s the mature one, alright.

“What did you tell her? Specifically?” she asks after a brief pause, peering at him with a careful eye.

He squints, grasping to remember the fine details of what he said. “Just... that I normally spend my birthday with all of you here on Earth, and after all the nonstop planet touring kinda, maybe wanted to take some time alone?”

Amethyst nods, giving a sharp bark of laughter at this.

“Hah! Then don’t worry about it, m’dude! Sounds to me like you stood your ground and spoke your mind. Don’t be guilty about that for even a second.”

“But- it’s not like her wanting me to spend time with them is wrong, so by turning her down, wasn’t I being kinda ru—“

His rapidly spiraling thoughts are cut off at the root by a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Okay, listen,” she says in that unmistakable ‘Serious Amethyst’ voice of hers, which of course means that she’s— well... that she‘s absolutely 100% being serious. “One thing ya’ gotta learn is that some people are just super tiring to deal with 24/7. It’s not wrong to set boundaries with them. All this junk? With Blue D? Far as I’m concerned, you handled it perfectly! And if she wants to cry about it, then that’s her problem.” Smiling, she reaches over to playfully muss his hair. “I’m super proud of you, ‘kay?”

He responds with a weak grin. Inwardly he still has his doubts, but he knows all too well that trying to argue against her when she’s in ‘Serious Amethyst’ mode is like standing on the shore trying to single handedly hold back the tides of the sea. Even a powerful terraforming Gem like Lapis would eventually be worn down by the ocean’s ceaseless tenacity. It’s best, then, to keep one’s objection silent.

So he’ll just stew in guilt quietly, no problem. Absolutely no problem here, no siree!

Before he can let that stew churn in the pot any longer however, a tree crashes to the forest floor with a colossal rumble nearby. A cluster of unsettled birds shoot into the sky from the boughs. Ground shaking under the unrest, the two of them dart to cling upon anything they can— bark covered trunks, each other— for balance. Thankfully it’s over in a few seconds, the local ecosystem quickly rebounding to its usual chittering atmosphere. But there’s now a lingering unease hanging like a curtain over this forest, a physical aura of dread, and despite his best efforts it’s one he can’t manage to ignore. He lets out a still breath. The back of his neck prickles. Geeze, just how big is this corrupted Gem they’re after?

Instinctively, he summons his shield, brings it in front of his torso. Pearl’s training echoing like a catchy earworm in his mind, he steps one foot back to widen his stance. Truth be told, with all of his political service on Homeworld it’s been a while (easily half a year!) since he’s actually used his shield in active combat— but he’s sure muscle memory will carry him through. It’s fine. He’ll be fine. It’s gotta be like riding a bicycle, right?

“You see something?” she whispers, lowering on her haunches. Her fingers twitch with anticipation at her side.

His brow furrows tight, eyes skittering through the visible tree line. “Not yet, but...”

Then, in a resolute answer to the question of the hairs raised at the nape of his neck, a skinny blur of steely blue and moss green suddenly swipes down from the branches at breakneck speed. He jerks his shield over his head in a flash.

Clang. Perfect timing.

(The force of the collision against reinforced hard light sends vibrations up his arms.)

Meanwhile, Amethyst yelps, only barely ducking from the spiked tail in time. She somersaults forward and immediately summons her whip as she regains her footing. In one fluid motion she snaps it at the rapidly moving blur. He grins at the sight.

Contact!

The corrupted Gem— her body long and willowy, able to skitter between limbs and leaves with zero effort whatsoever— screeches at the assault. All four of her beady eyes hone in on the pair of them.

They square up for battle, standing back to back.

“Here we go,” Amethyst says, flicking her wrist to switch the weapon’s tri-ended tip into its spiked counterpart. “Keep me covered. Whatever you do, don’t take your eyes off the trees.”

With a mighty yell, she moves to attack again. However, the creature anticipates it this time... and dodges.

Once. Twice. Thrice...

Every single lash she tries to land fares the same, with the Gem perfectly zig-zagging out of range at the last second. Even when Steven hurls his shield in coordination with her offensive strikes. Even when the quartz brings out a second whip to the party. It’s like trying to desperately keep hold of a wet bar of soap. The very moment you think you have it secure in your grasp, it slips away once more. Weird... he swears that thing is predicting their every move. What kind of Gem is she? A sapphire, maybe? Surely there had to have been a few other sapphires on Earth at the time of corruption. They’re a rare sort, but it’s certainly not impossible. Not at all.

They’ll know when they poof her, of course. No sense fixating on it in the heat of battle.

In the corner of his eye he catches that barbed tail swing from above, vying to surprise them from their blind spot, and summons his bubble around them. Its surface ripples upon impact, but holds strong. His fellow battle partner follows the creature’s erratic movements rapturously as she recovers.

“Tell me when,” he huffs for breath, watching the Gem circle around them and slash at the surrounding trees in a vain attempt at intimidation.

“Drop on three,” she says. “Your call.”

“Okay...”

Steven steels his nerves, inhaling deep, and focusing on the reliable hum of hard light running from his core outwards. Just relax. It’s all training. All stuff you’ve done a million times before. You’ve got this.

Working off the emerging rhythm of the creature’s strikes, he begins his count.

“One—“

Amethyst’s fists clench tighter.

“Two...”

The creature’s tail slams against the bubble and rebounds once again.

“Three!” he shouts, and throws his arms out, popping the bubble in a startling explosion of glittering pink.

The Gem howls. She’s thrown against a cluster of trees by the force of his magic’s kickback. Amethyst throws all of her energy into her spin-dash, and surges towards her with all the strength of a typhoon.

He summons two shields in turn, working light on his feet as he hurls them full force one after the other, desperately hoping to poof this poor creature as quickly and painlessly as he can manage. She’s strong, though. Incredibly strong— which gives more credence to his theory of this Gem being aristocratic in origin. Before Era 3, Homeworld used to endow the most ‘important’ Gems with greater durability. If she were a corrupted quartz or ruby, both easily poofed Gems, they’d have finished the fight by now.

“Hey!” Amethyst calls as she continues on the offensive, finally looping the Gem’s torso. “All this?” She gives a mighty battle cry, and swings her slender, scaly body over her head. Screeching, the corruption crashes headfirst into the dirt a good twenty feet away. “Is starting to get way too annoying. Ya’ wanna let Smoky take this one?”

Steven gives a playful laugh, averting his normally watchful gaze from the creature for a split second to face her. “You bet I do!”

And that’s when what should have been an incredibly straightforward mission goes very, very wrong.

All because he forgot to be careful. For one tiny, should’ve-been-insignificant moment.

He’s reaching out for a high five, fingers splayed outwards. His gem glows, the two of them so intrinsically in sync by now that he’s already anticipating their fusion.

But his hand never finds its match.

Instead, the end of the corrupted Gem’s mace-like tail swings back around and slams into his gut with the force of a freight train, knocking the wind clear out of him.

Contact.

Following momentum, his body spins a good hundred feet away from Amethyst before she can ever try to catch him with her whip... and he crashes headfirst into a startlingly solid tree trunk. He falls to the forest floor like nothing more than an abandoned rag doll.

“Steven!!” she shrieks from afar.

Ears ringing. Head pounding. Heart throbbing. Veins pumped full of static.

(Inhale.)

H-he- surely he‘s not—!

(Just inhale!)

Black feathers the edges of his vision, looming like a reaper. It’s wrong. It’s real, but it’s all so distant, so wrong. Stubbornly, he gasps for breath. Refusing to let himself go unconscious. Not here, not now. But it’s so tempting, gosh is it tempting. His whole body feels numb and battered, his whole body feels...

There’s a twisting in his gut. His eyes shoot wide.

Oh...

The sensation (again, wrong, sickly and wrong) rises in his throat faster than he can identify it by name, and it’s then that he’s thrown back into sobering reality. Arms quivering to hold up his weight, he pushes his upper body up off the dirt just before he retches. Once, twice, three times- all on quick succession. Ugh. So much for breakfast. His muscles ache as he desperately attempts to recover, attempts to shift his view away from the appalling sight of his own vomit. Everything is woozy, blurred, spinning around him. His- oh stars, his head is suddenly as heavy as lead...! Where’s Amethyst?? Why do his arms and legs feel all tingly and faint? Why can he only barely lift himself up? He gives a keening cry as a pulsing throb of static shoots in staccato bolts like lightning from his very core, his center, h-his— he can’t think, he can’t think, he can’t—

Breathing ragged, he collapses onto his side and rides through the spasms, his every muscle jerking against his command. His cheek sags against the ground once the fit reaches its end.

He lays there in a daze for a good long while, letting his vision grow unfocused and blurred in his exhaustion. From his creased brow, sweat drips in the sweltering August heat, staining the soil below. Conflict rages on in the distant background— Amethyst running solo?— yet he can’t keep track of the action by sound alone. It’s... too much sensory input. More than he can handle, by a long shot. Every bit of his universe now is faint and weak and pain pain pain pain pain, but he manages to shift his arm just enough to slip his hand under his shirt, blindly grasping for his gem... working off a terrible, horrifying hunch.

Shaking fingers find their way to warm crystal, tracing the outer edges, and then—

He traces a deep gouge, running diagonal clear across the center facet.

Cracked.

And with that realization, any remnant of calm he had left flies straight out the window. Another spike of static rips through his body (fuzzy images of Amethyst, 100% hard light body glitching out and unable to hold its shape, pervade his mind) as he makes rapid shallow gasps for air and seizes, trying in vain not to think too hard about what’s physically happening to him.

(I’m cracked I’m cracked I’m cracked I’m—)

“Steven!” Amethyst shouts, diving to his side in an instant. “I’m here, I’m here, I’m so sorry, it wasn’t safe, an’ I knew I had to bubble her before I- ‘fore I could—“

His wide eyed fear silences her even faster than his words. “H- Amethyst,” he rasps, voice hoarse. He blinks as tears begin to slip from between his lashes.

Near indistinguishable blurs of purple and black are his only metric for her movement now. He’s rolled onto his back. A hand moves under his head, stabilizing it.

“Whoa, dude, you’re like, pale as milk! What’s wrong? Did you get hurt?? Can’t you heal it?”

He somehow manages to push coherent words through his warbling cries. “I, I- I dunno, I’m c- cracked, I’m—“

“Wait, wait, wait, you’re WHAT?”

Giving no thought to courtesy in light of the situation, she yanks his shirt up to see for herself.

He hears her inhale as her fingers delicately brush against the gouge marring the center facet of his gem. It’s sharp, sympathetic. The kind of reaction only a Gem who’s lived this horror could offer him. Ever so slight, her hand recoils upon the no-doubt triggering sight. He— stars, he doesn’t wanna... doesn’t want to have to make her remember that, remember that awful time she herself got cracked, but here he is, so clumsy, s-so useless, an—

His chest trembles with every pitiful, bubbling gasp as he succumbs to the terror of the situation and begins to openly sob. Hot, fat tears pour in rivulets down his cheeks, but he knows instinctively there‘s no magic within them. Not today. Not when h-he’s... when he’s like this.

What’s even gonna happen to him now? How’s he gonna— Deep breath. This time, he feels it coming. Every muscle in his body contracts on automatic as that awful, awful static tears through his nerves like an arc of electric current.

It hurts it hurts it hurts ithurtshurtshurtshurtshurtshurts—

Amethyst does her best to lightly hold him as he seizes, cradling his head to ensure no more damage is done. When he stills this time the fight’s practically draining from his body. The boughs of the trees above him pirouette like dancers. Oh stars, everything’s... so... woozy...

“Aw, geeze,” she mutters, and reaches to her gem to pull out an object, thin and rectangular, too blurry in his view for him to make out with much detail. “I, uh... listen. I’m gonna call up Pearl, and we’re gonna fix you up, okay?? We’re gonna take you to the fountain, an’ then...” Her words (reassurance, but for who?) grow thick as her glance flicks downward at his stomach again. “An’ then you’re gonna be fine...”

“B-b-but... I don’t think— I can’t walk,” he blubbers.

“Then I’ll carry you.”

“Am- hnng- Amethyst—“

“Shh-shh, don’t talk, bud. Save your energy.”

“I- I’m so scared,” he blurts.

And it’s so true. Because everything is becoming so blurry and indistinguishable, and the more his body seizes the more fractured he feels, and he’s so close to closing his eyes and drifting off now, he’s sure he is, he’s gotta be—

“Steven,” she says, voice firm yet soft. “Steven, common’, look at me.”

Serious Amethyst. He recognizes the tone. No arguing now.

So slowly but surely— knowing there’s no sense in fighting back oceans when he can barely stay afloat amidst the shallows of this river— his weary, tear stained eyes meet with hers. They’re blown wide with fear, with genuine concern, but between the swirls of black and indigo blue stirs a deeper courage: the unwavering gaze of someone who will have his back to the end of the line.

Amethyst clasps her palm against his shoulder, solid and reassuring.

“Whatever it takes, I promise you... I’m gonna get you there.”

#su #steven universe #amethyst #su fanfiction #my writing stuff

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girls-scenarios · 4 years

Text

A Touch

Idol: Heejin (Loona)

Prompt: Hello there, can I request a hogwarts Au fem! reader(Ravenclaw) x heejin (gryffindor) where heejin has a crush on the reader and they start dating after the reader has to help heejin with potions class Please and thank you!! ❤️❤️

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: I haven’t seen the movies in a hot minute, but I’m hoping to watch them during quarantine. That’s one way to spend my time, at least. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!

♡ Tip Jar♡

You felt the heat on the back of your neck before you heard the bang. The heat made your skin tingle, and you ducked just as a loud BAM knocked you forward into your table. Behind you, a cauldron bubbled and spit, sending the failed potion spewing onto your robes. The hiss made you wince and jump up, slipping out of the robe before whatever had just exploded onto you could seep through the cloth. A curse lingered on your lips, your nose crinkling into a frown until a low, soft voice stopped you in your tracks.

“I’m so sorry! I must have thrown in the wrong ingredient!” A pretty girl in Gryffindor robes was standing behind the cauldron, her face smudged by her own explosion and her brown hair standing on end. Her lips were turned down in a pout, and you felt your heart skip before you shook your head, looking down at your robes instead. The potion, thankfully, hadn’t left any marks.

“T-that’s okay....” You trailed off, all the curses you’d thought of before disappearing and leaving you speechless. Beside you, your fellow Ravenclaw student Hyewon looked up at you incredulously, like she couldn’t believe you weren’t upset. You’d cursed at other students in potions before, but something about this girl made your heart skip a beat as she whined and wiped at her face, trying to explain herself to her partner, who looked just as shocked as everyone else.

Thankfully, you wouldn’t have to explain yourself to Hyewon, because the professor cleared his throat loudly and stomped over to the offending cauldron.

“Miss Jeon Heejin, do you care explaining how you blew up a potion that is not meant to blow up?”

“I-I must have added the wrong ingredient,” Heejin said, bowing her head and clasping her hands together nervously. Right then, she did not look like a brave Gryffindor. Instead, she resembled a scolded puppy. Your heart went out to her, just as you remembered your classmates talking about her. Heejin, the girl who blew up everything she touched. You’d never been lucky enough to be in a class with her until this year, apparently.

“You have continuously messed up almost every potion we’ve made this year, how have you not learned from your past mistakes yet? Will it take blowing up this whole room for you to learn to pay attention and be careful?”

“I was doing better though! I hadn’t blown up anything yet this year.” Heejin gained some of her confidence back, straightening her shoulders before a well-placed glare from the professor made her slump back down again.

“You’ve gotten almost every potion wrong, not blowing them up isn’t something you should be proud of! How you’ve gotten this far in your wizarding schooling with skills like this, I don’t know, but I’ve half a mind to-.”

“Excuse me.” You butted in, surprising even yourself as you stepped forward. The professor stopped and turned to look at you, his eyebrows raising.

“Yes, (Y/N)?”

“I couldn’t help but overhear your lecture. If she needs help in potions, I would be happy to tutor her. After all, I am the top student in the class.”

Heejin’s eyes went wide, before a slow smile spread over her face. “Really? You’d do that for me?” Her happiness made you feel better about your very sudden decision, and you smiled, nodding your head as you folded your robe over your arm.

“Of course. If that’s okay with you, professor.”

“By all means.” The professor sighed and waved his hand. “Anything to keep her from blowing something up again.” With that, he walked away, and you held out your hand.

“I’m (Y/N), from Ravenclaw.”

“I’m Heejin, from Gryffindor.”

“I know,” you said with a smile, “you’re the one who blows up everything you touch.”

Her cheeks flushed at the nickname and she sighed, trying to run her hands the her now-frayed hair. “It’s not like I do it on purpose. I just can’t get the hang of potions. I’ve never been any good at it.”

“Hopefully we can fix that. Meet me here after dinner. I’ll get permission to use the room after hours and we’ll work from there. Sound like a plan?”

Her smile returned and she nodded. “That sounds great, thank you again!”

“No problem.”

As you returned to your seat, Hyewon wiggled her eyebrows. “Since when do you help the helpless?” She whispered, grinning, and you did your best to ignore her, turning your attention instead to your own perfect potion.

“That’s none of your business.”

When you met Heejin that evening, she’d cleaned up and somehow looked even prettier, the petite bridge of her nose visible without the presence of soot on her face. She’d washed her hair, and it now lay in waves down across her shoulders. Her Gryffindor robe was big on her, and you had a feeling that someone had let her borrow theirs, because hers had looked pretty messed up earlier. Still, she was smiling, and your heart skipped a beat as you walked up to her.

God. She was too pretty.

“Ready?” You asked, pulling out the key in your pocket, and she nodded, looking all too excited. It made you a bit nervous.

“I’m ready! How did you get them to give you the key?”

“I’m the best potions student in Hogwarts,” you explained smoothly, bragging a bit as you opened the door and let her inside. “They know I won’t mess anything up.”

“That’s impressive. Potions is really hard.” Heejin sighed as she sat down at the single table left with a cauldron, per your request, pressing her hands against the seat and swinging her legs. “There’s just so many things to remember and they all get jumbled up in my head. Same with all the stirring and the temperature of the fire.... It’s too complicated.”

“It’s a science.” You walked to the ingredients cabinet as you spoke. “Nobody ever gets it right on the first time. That’s why there’s so much damage control for the first years. But once you get it down, it becomes easier and easier. Memorization and confidence are key.” After a short pause to look at the list of ingredients for Confusing Concoction, you grabbed the things you needed and turned to her with a smile. “I’ll teach you how I do it.”

Heejin was a good student, despite her reputation. She watched and listened carefully and took notes with a sparkly red pen as you explained each of the ingredients in detail and what purpose they had in the potion. Although she was obviously nervous as she stood next to the cauldron, your reassurance that you were only handing her the correct things made her more confident, and she did as you told her, putting things in one by one and stirring the cauldron slow.

You were mostly just watching as she put in the last thing, put the movement of her wrist caught your eye. She was stirring faster. To make sure that you weren’t just imagining things, you watched a little longer. Sure enough, Heejin seemed to speed up with each stir, and you smiled to yourself. You’d found the problem.

“Okay,” you said, stepping forward and putting your hand on her wrist. She startled slightly as you moved behind her, and you realized belatedly that this was a pretty intimate position. Clearing your throat, you moved to the side a bit to give her more space, doing your best to focus on the potion instead of on how good she smelt. “I found your problem. You stir really, really fast.”

She blinked, but let you move her wrist slowly around the cauldron in a slight zig-zag pattern. “But all the ingredients are in, does the speed matter anymore?”

“It’s the most important right now. If everything mixes together too quickly, it can cause an explosion. For Confusing Concoction, you want to stir slowly and make the letter z. That’s what makes it thicken to the right consistency.”

“Oh....” She fell quiet until you took your wrist away, your throat dry. Without your hand, she continued to do the right motion, and a smile came to her lips. “That’s not so hard!”

“Nope. Not at all.” Once the potion was at the right consistency, you reached over to stop her wrist and smiled. “You did it. That’s Confusing Concoction, the very same potion you blew up on me in class.”

She blushed, but she was still smiling as she backed away. “Wow. I really did it! It didn’t blow up or turn a strange color or anything!” Her eyes were wide as she peered down at it. “How can you tell it’s ready?”

“Three things.” You pointed at how the potion stuck slightly to the stirring stick. “First, his potion is supposed to have this thick consistency. Almost like molasses or syrup.” Then you pointed to the clock. “Second, I know that it takes a certain amount of time to brew correctly. Third, the color is correct. Even one ingredient wrong would have made the color off. Since it meets all of those criteria, I have to say that you have successfully created Confusing Concoction.”

“You’re so cool,” Heejin breathed, and your heart skipped another beat. “This is great! I can’t believe I really did it! With your help, of course, but I’ve never done this well!”

You laughed, and wondered why you found her sheepish smile so adorable before reminding yourself to be a good tutor. “You’ll do even better by the time I’m done with you. Now come on, I’m going to get a sample of this to show the professor, and then we should clean up and get to bed. Oh, and I’ve got some reading material for you.”

When the two of you parted ways at the door, Heejin left you with a quick hug and a wave, and your heart wouldn’t stop pounding.

“How’s tutoring Heejin been? I’ve seen the two of you giggling together in the hallway. It seems like there’s a lot more than tutoring going on.” Hyewon cornered you one day as you parted ways with Heejin outside the Ravenclaw portrait (she’d decided to walk you back to your dorms, and you’d be lying if it didn’t make your heart skip a beat).

“Don’t be silly. I’m trying to make sure that she doesn’t blow us all up one day.” You tried your best to scoff like you would have before you met Heejin, but your heart just wasn’t with it. Plus, your heart was beating like crazy, and you were pretty sure your ears were red. Hyewon just smiled and raised her eyebrows.

“But you like her.”

You swallowed and ducked around her, her heart shuddering in your chest. You couldn’t even try and deny it anymore, but that didn’t mean you were confident enough to say it. Not when Heejin looked like a cute, confused bunny, or when her smile was as radiant as the sun.

“Shut up,” you said, for a lack of anything else to say. Hyewon just snickered and followed you inside.

Heejin had slowly wiggled her way into your heart with her cute smile and her soft hair and her scrunched up nose when she concentrated. The tutoring sessions were still tutoring, you still taught her potions and answered any questions she had, but there was more... talking. Getting to know each other. Smiling and laughing.

They’d turned into something you looked forward to at the end of the day, and you wondered if Heejin felt the same way.

One thing was for sure, though. She was improving in potions every day. Soon, she wouldn’t even need your help anymore.

And you weren’t sure what you’d do when that happened.

“Whatever you’re doing to help Heejin, it’s working. She’s improving exponentially.” The professor smiled widely at you, and you did your best to smile back. Usually, you’d love hearing teacher’s praise, but this time, you felt a sense of dread.

“Thank you, sir.”

“You know, if she passes this upcoming test, she won’t even need help anymore. We’re going to be brewing Draught of Peace, and if she can successfully brew that, she can brew anything!”

Your heart dropped. It was just as you’d expected. Your days with Heejin were coming to a close. But you smiled anyway, nodding as the professor looked at you. You couldn’t do anything to hurt Heejin’s grades.

“I’ll do my best to make sure she passes.”

This time of the year was always a blur, only made worse by your worry over what you’d do once your tutoring sessions ended. Before you new it, it was the day of the big test in potions, and you faltered at the door, not wanting to go inside. Was this what test anxiety was like?

“What’s wrong?” Hyewon asked sleepily, bumping into your back.

“I-I don’t want to go into class today.”

She frowned. “What do you mean? You’ll do fine, you’re the number one student when it comes to potions.”

“That’s not it,” you said, and she finally got it, letting out a little sigh.

“Oh, it’s Heejin.”

“Yeah.”

“Listen, you guys have gotten really close. I don’t think she’ll just drop you after she finally passes something in potions. She doesn’t seem like that type of person.”

“You think so?” You looked at your friend, feeling pathetic for being so scared, and she wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

“I know so. And I’m never wrong. Now let’s get inside before we get points taken away for being late.”

The room was already almost full, only a few straggling students still missing, and you turned to look at Heejin before you could help yourself. She was studying the notes she’d taken with you the day before, her nose scrunched up in concentration, but when you looked up and locked eyes with you, she smiled.

“Good luck,” she said softly as you passed, and you couldn’t help smiling as well.

“Good luck to you too.”

As you reached your seat, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You were the best potions student in the school. You had no reason to be nervous. You could do this.

When you opened your eyes again, the ingredient cabinet was open, and you were in the zone. You didn’t think about Heejin, even as much as you wanted to. You focused on your own potion until it was done, then sat back with a sigh and a little smile.

You’d done it.

Then you heard an excited yell behind you, and you turned around to see that Heejin had done it too. Her face was flushed from excitement and she’d smudged something on her face, but she’d finished the potion. And she hadn’t blown anything up.

“Very good, Heejin,” the professor said with a smile. “I’m impressed.”

“Thank you!” She beamed from his praise, almost glowing as she stepped away from her table, and you couldn’t look away. Not even when she turned and locked eyes with you, or when she began to walk around her table.

The next thing you knew, your arms were full of one Jeon Heejin, and she was hugging you tight. She also smelt distinctly of vanilla and flowers, and you wondered for a moment if her lips would be as soft as her face was against yours before she pulled away and you snapped out of it.

“I did it! And it’s all because of you!” She was still smiling, holding onto your shoulders, and her smile was too contagious not to smile back, even if you felt a little sad as you did.

“It was your hard work and willingness to learn that made you succeed. I just helped. I’m proud of you.” At your words, the tips of her ears colored pink with pleasure and she glanced down, uncharacteristically shy.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“Of course.”

It wasn’t until class was ending and everyone was moving towards the doors that you had the courage to tell her. Swallowing, you patted her shoulder and put on a fake smile. “Congratulations again. I was happy to tutor you.”

She smiled, but then it faded a bit as your words sank in. “What do you mean by that?”

“The professor said that, if you passed this test, you wouldn’t need my help anymore. But I had a lot of fun with you, and I’m proud of how far you came.”

“Oh.” Her face fell and you wanted to cheer her up, to hug her, to do something, but one of her friends came to her side, whining about how hard the test had been, and she cleared her throat. “Um, I had fun too. Thank you again. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah,” you said, giving her a little wave. “See you around.”

You turned to watch her walk away once you were outside the classroom, and Hyewon sighed.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I couldn’t.”

“But you guys obviously like each other. Come on, I could have cut that tension with a knife.”

You turned away, clutching your books tighter. You didn’t know why you hadn’t said anything, but the words just hadn’t come out. All you could do was shake your head at Hyewon and say “I know.”

Once the evening rolled around, you found yourself restless. Laying in bed didn’t seem right, but neither did doing homework, and eventually you grew frustrated with distracting yourself and stood up, throwing on your shoes and heading out of the dorms. You no longer had the key, but you figured a walk to the potions classroom might help you feel better.

As you approached, you saw a figure sitting outside the doors, her head leaned back against the wall. Your heart stopped and, for a moment, you stopped too. Could it be? When you started walking again, your heart was pounding in your chest, the beating only getting faster as you got closer and the figure turned to look at you.

It was Heejin. And she was smiling.

“I was hoping you’d come.”

You found yourself smiling as well as you shoved your hands into your pockets and stopped in front of her. “Sorry, I don’t have the key,” you said, even though you knew that wasn’t what she was waiting for. Sure enough, she just laughed before standing to her feet.

“I really like you, (Y/N),” she said bluntly, and your heart did a back flip inside your chest. So this was the brave Gryffindor that had been inside Heejin this whole time. “And I don’t want to stop seeing you. Even if it’s not tutoring, I want to be around you.”

“I like you too,” you admitted, relieved to finally have the feelings off your chest. You felt giddy and nervous, yet it was so right at the same time. “And I don’t want to stop seeing you either.”

“Good.” She stepped closer to you, her eyes sparkling in the candlelit hallway. “Then let’s date.”

“Okay.”

You usually weren’t one to be bossed around. But this time, as you smiled widely and pulled your hands out of your pockets to reach out and grab her hands instead, you found you didn’t mind. You also found that Heejin’s lips were just as soft as her skin when she giggled and leaned in to kiss you, silently sealing the deal with her gentle vanilla-scented touch.

#femifics #loona #heejin #loona scenarios #heejin scenarios #girl group scenarios #kpop scenario #girl groups #kpop girl groups #t:hogwartsau

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coneygoil · 4 years

Text

The Home We Built Together, part 38

Two young Vikings. An arranged marriage. Hiccup always wanted to win the girl of his dreams, but not like this. Now he and Astrid must learn to live together and maybe one day, learn to love…

“Hiccup.”

Hiccup peered down from his perch on Toothless’ back at the tiny figure on the land far below waving furiously at him. The figure called again, distant at first until the sound drifted up to meet him. Hiccup’s brow furrowed. Sound had never echoed like that up into the air before. What felt like a hand clamped down on his shoulder, dragging him off Toothless. Hiccup yelped Toothless’ name, arms reaching for his dragon as he watched helplessly as Toothless tumbled down along with him.

“HICCUP!”

He jerked out of sleep, eyes popping open and wildly flicking about. Blonde hair and bright blues eyes filled his frame of vision. He paused, staring into those eyes.

“Hey,” Astrid said, softly. The caress of her knuckles soothed across his cheek. “Where were you?”

He turned his head, nuzzling her knuckles, thankful for her presence. “In a really crazy dream.”

“Are you okay?” Astrid asked, her hand retreating into her lap.

“Yeah.”

Hiccup sat up, rubbing the sleep from his face. They’d spent the past three late nights training the other teens to become dragon riders. Hiccup wanted to ease into the training, and Fishlegs seemed to be the least likely to cause chaos. Aside from Fishlegs’ barely restrained shrieks, he did remarkably well. Hiccup had crafted a simple saddle for each rider to start off with. Fishlegs had white-knuckled the saddle so hard, he left imprints of his fingernails in the leather. He’d finally eased after several minutes of his Gronckle – which Fishlegs named Meatlug -- hovering and gently buzzing over the boundaries of the cove.

The following nights weren’t as uneventful. As soon as the twins’ rear ends planted in their saddles, they spurred their Hideous Zippleback to zoom off. Astrid and Hiccup found them zig-zagging through the sky, hooting and hollering – Hiccup’s fear hitting Fahrenheit at the thought of all the attention they were most likely attracting. They barely got the twins attention to follow them toward the cove so Hiccup could pick up Toothless. After the wild training session and one tree blown to fiery bits on a neighboring island, the twins dubbed their dragon heads Barf and Belch.

Snotlout walked into the training session as if he was the greatest dragon expert known to the Archipelago. He sauntered up to his Monstrous Nightmare and commanded the Nightmare to bow for him to mount. The Nightmare eyed Snotlout as if he was the dumbest sack of rocks on Berk. He snatched Snotlout in his pointy teeth – in which Snotlout yelped so loud it felt it echoed through the entire island (another fear-cringing moment for Hiccup) – and tossed Snotlout onto his neck. The Nightmare blew a puff of hot breath at him before following Stormfly through the tunnel. The only other incident that night was the Nightmare heating Snotlout’s butt when he got too cocky. Hiccup was right. The Nightmare would definitely keep his cousin’s ego in check. Snotlout dubbed his Nightmare – Hookfang – because his dragon needed a “kicka** name”.

Other than the few attention-drawing incidents that thankfully didn’t draw attention as far as they were aware, the training sessions went well. Every teen had bonded with their dragon and Hiccup could see the friendships growing. Slowly, very slowly, the knots in Hiccup’s stomach began to unwind.

Hiccup scanned Astrid. She wore her daily clothes. Her skin glistened from a light sweat from most likely a morning jog. “Sorry I overslept and didn’t have breakfast waiting for you.”

“It’s not like you don’t have a good excuse.”

“You were out as late as I was.”

Astrid rolled her eyes. “This isn’t a competition, Hiccup.” She grabbed his hand, giving him a hearty yank. “Now, get up. We have dragon training with Gobber.”

“Why isn’t that over with yet?” Hiccup whined as he let Astrid drag him to his feet.

“It’s over when the Chief declares it over,” she tossed a green tunic his way and a pair of pants that slapped Hiccup in the face, “and since the Chief has returned—"

Hiccup froze, clothes hanging haphazardly on his arms. His stomach bottomed out at the realization that hadn’t hit him yet. “My dad will be watching today.”

Astrid immediately appeared in front of him and cupped his shoulders. She caught his line of sight. “Focus on me, Hiccup.” His distant stare finally snapped to her. “We’ll get through this, and when your dad sees how well the training has been going, he’ll declare it over and we can move on.”

She took the clothes from him, laying them on the bed. Before Hiccup noticed what she was doing, a shiver ran over his skin as Astrid hauled his nightshirt over his head – leaving Hiccup in only his undershorts. She reached over for his tunic and offered it to him. “Get dressed.”

***

Today, they would battle the Monstrous Nightmare. The group had barely trained with the Nightmare in the ring. Their first session with him led to Snotlout flailing around the arena franticly searching for water to put out his flaming rear end. But, that was before he’d made friends with the Nightmare that he called Hookfang.

Hiccup and Astrid had trained Hookfang in a choreographed fight as they had all the other arena dragons. He knew cues that they would give him to perform certain attack moves. They’d informed the other teens of these moves. They knew what to look for, and hopefully they wouldn’t do anything dumb to counteract those silent commands.

The helmet his father bestowed to him perched heavy atop Hiccup’s head. He’d grudgingly brought it with him. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the gift, but it had been given to him under false pretenses. It felt like a beacon on top of his head of the blatant lie he carried – a lie that could easily be spilled out at any given moment.

“We’ll get through this,” Astrid reassured as they paused in the tunnel of the arena. The other teens had gone on into the ring. She tucked her fingertips under his chin for him to look her in the eyes. “We have so far.” She left a quick peck of encouragement on his lips before gliding confidently into the arena as if she owned it.

Hiccup watched his wife – his strong, courageous wife – and breathed in from the bottom of his lungs. He walked in, a great deal slower and uncertain as if the burden on his shoulder was weighting him down. He scanned the viewing area where a small crowd of Berkians were gathering. His gaze caught on the massive figure of his father. Even from the height above, Stoick was a pillar that could not be ignored. His eyes followed Hiccup, and Hiccup awkwardly waved to his father, who nodded back in firm greeting. Hiccup tore away from the viewing stand to peer around at his comrades -- their various weapons ready in hand.

Gobber hobbled to the crank and within a few revolutions, the cage door burst open. Hiccup jumped back not expecting such an outburst. Hookfang towered over them, fire licking upon his gelled skin. A dark cloud of smoke huffed from his nostrils, wafting through the arena. His glowing yellow eyes blazed as bright as his fire.

Hiccup’s mouth unhinged in slow motion. Hookfang resembled nothing of the dragon that melted into a chin scratch just the other day. The teens slammed their palms over their ears at the roar that reverberated off the stone walls. Hiccup nearly jumped out of his skin at the pull of his elbow.

“Hiccup,” Snotlout hissed through gritted teeth, “what’s wrong with my dragon? This isn’t part of the plan!”

Both cousins leapt out of the way as Hookfang barreled right at them -- Snotlout’s screechy yelp embarrassingly loud.

“I don’t know,” Hiccup kept his voice hushed enough that it didn’t carry, “maybe the crowd is spooking him, or maybe us holding weapons?”

It was obvious that Hookfang was extremely agitated, but he hadn’t in the past minute tried to attack any of them with flames or gnashing of teeth. He simply rushed around the arena circle, squawking and panicked.

“Hiccup, what’ll we do?” Astrid asked, having made an appearance on his other side. “If he keeps going like this, we may have to actually fight him.”

Astrid’s resolve to the problem hit like a stone in Hiccup’s stomach. Fighting Hookfang was the last resort and he wanted to give the dragon every chance before it came down to that.

“Let me try.”

Hiccup set his narrow shoulders. His chest contracted deeply as he sucked in and moved forward. Hookfang was slowing his gyration around the arena. Hiccup threw up his hands in a non-threatening fashion, catching Hookfang’s attention. The Nightmare slid to a halt, his pupils narrowed to slits.

“Hey, big guy,” Hiccup ventured, trying to keep his voice low and calm. “You know me. Hiccup. What’s wrong?”

Hookfang’s heated breath huffed over Hiccup causing an instant sweat. Hiccup chanced a step forward. He knew this whole scene was drawing attention to his ‘method of madness’ as Gobber referred to it, but he’d risk it to steer Hookfang back where they needed him to be to play out the choreographed fight.

Hiccup slid another step forward. Hookfang whined, remaining still as Hiccup reached his hand out toward him. As soon as Hiccup touched his jaw, Hookfang snarled out. Before Hiccup even knew what was going on, his back slammed to the floor, knocking the breath out of him. His helmet clattered some distance away.

“Hiccup!” he heard Astrid cry from somewhere around him. His whole view was Hookfang’s glowing eyes and pointy teeth and--

“Stay back!” Hiccup commanded. The sound of feet shuffled toward him stopped in their tracks. “Hookfang, you’re gonna have to trust me. Okay, big guy? Please don’t bite my arm off. I’d hate to lose a limb.”

Hiccup shoved his arm into Hookfang’s mouth, trying his best to not get snagged by the long, protruding teeth. He grabbed hold the loose tooth stabbing into Hookfang’s lower gums and jerked it out in one fluid motion. Hookfang reared backwards, yelping, and then suddenly stopped. He stared at Hiccup, the black slits of his eyes widening. He looked himself again. He wiggled his bottom jaw testing if the pain, he now obviously was in, was gone.

Hiccup knew they couldn’t afford any time to regroup. They had to keep up the charade or get caught. He gave the signal to Hookfang and the dragon proceeded right away into the actions he’d been taught to pretend his way through a fight. Hiccup met Astrid eyes and she knew exactly what to do. The rest of the teens – in their own ragtag way -- followed her lead. In a matter of a couple minutes, Hookfang was being cornered back into his cage. Gobber throw the crank and the cage door shut with a loud bang.

“Yeah! We did it!” Snotlout yelled in Hiccup’s ear as he came barreling against him.

Hiccup nearly lost his footing from his cousin’s impact. He elbowed Snotlout and nodded down to his hand to reveal a tooth as long as his hand and then some. “Looks like a dropped tooth was the culprit. Since he’s your dragon, this belongs to you.”

Snotlout grinned from ear to ear. He gripped the tooth as if it were the greatest prize ever bestowed on the earth. “This is totally going around my neck!” he proclaimed, and Hiccup guessed his cousin meant as a necklace.

Hiccup pitched forward at the breath knocked out of him. He glared at the smirk his wife carried on her lips. He accepted his helmet back from her that just assaulted his stomach. “Best dragon trainer in the Archipelago,” she said, proudly.

Hiccup couldn’t help but smile at her acclaim. His gaze dared to seek his father. Stoick remained planted in his seat, bent over his lap and stroking his beard --appearing more in the manner of a Norse god in contemplative thought than a mortal man of Midgard. Gobber gabbled on at him. Hiccup wondered what the blacksmith was ringing in his father’s ear. Stoick was absorbing it with the utmost seriousness.

Hiccup swallowed hard and his stomach churned uncomfortably at what criticism to expect from his father.

Tags: @martabm90 @chiefhiccstrid @drchee5e

#httyd fanfiction #hiccstrid #arranged marriage au #the home we built together

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this-solaris-life · 4 years

Text

We Are All Monsters Here

This is for my Our War of Hearts Au! This is set a year and a half before the tournament. I wanted to challenge myself by writing a dance scene and Xuanyu giving the Jin’s a artistic middle finger. @ruensroad - I hope that you enjoy this! Thank you for being so encouraging.

“Senior Xuanyu?” Xia called out to him from where he stood bare foot out in the private garden attached to his rooms. He knew that he must look terrible. Still dressed in his dark green silk sleeping gown and grey gossamer robe that was practically hanging off of him. His normally tame hair straightened is now a mess of tangles.

The day had started off with a rather nasty migraine. He’d accidentally stumbled into Lan Wangji last night while walking in the gardens and he’d gotten a glimpse of a future moment between him and Wei Wuxian. People say that the man is like a statue with no emotion. They are terribly wrong because he feels so deeply that he’d had to steal Huaisang for a moment to dispel his gift.

Xuanyu thought the day was going to get better once he took a relaxing bath but to his dismay. A golden letter from Madame Jin arrived to disrupt his day. His jaw clenched and his hands gripping the paper hard that it bunched. He ignored the urge to tear it to shreds. He took a shuddering breath before he responded back to her, “Yes.”

“Are you alright?” She asked with concern in her voice as she stepped up behind him. He took a shuddering breath closing his eyes as he gathered himself. Xuanyu is upset. He’s about to marry the man he adores more than life itself in a few months, and that wretched Madam Jin was trying to control him. It might have worked in the beginning but now he was stronger. The love of his new family had made him so. He wouldn’t allow that woman to sink her talons into his marriage filling him with doubts.

“Ye…”He started turning around to face her but paused when he saw her face. If he wanted them to stay out of his new life then he needed to start here. He handed her the letter “No, I want to speak with my brother. Tell A-Ai to give him this and see if he has a moment where I can come see him about it.”

“Yes, Senior Xuanyu.” Xia bowed then went to follow her instructions.

After a good bath and some bit of food, Xuanyu had been sent one of Meng Yao’s attending disciples. He was instructed that his brother could see him now. Which resulted in him being where he is now. Xuanyu sitting in the chair across from his brother’s desk. His brother reading the letter again.

Golden eyes peered over the top of the paper. “What do you want to do about this? A letter like this isn’t uncommon and surely you expected that at least one of them would try something.” Meng Yao laid the letter down on the desk before leaning back resting his elbows on the arm of his chair. He watched as Xuanyu suddenly stood up pacing in front of them.

“For them to understand that when I marry A-Sang that I am apart of Nie sect.” Xuanyu answered stopping and looking up at his brother. “That there will never be a moment where I betray our family for them.”

“How do you plan to express this to them.” Meng Yao countered dropping his gaze back down at the seething letter from Madame Jin. It detailed all of Xuanyu’s perceived faults and that he would bring only shame to both sects if he didn’t obey her words.

Xuanyu shook his head as he tried to think of what he could do. He didn’t want to start something at the wedding and if he tried something now they might try to extend their engagement. Or the Jin’s might try to cancel it all together. “I…”

“She did mention not to behave shamefully.” Meng Yao stated trying to push his brother in a direction that would best help them. So, that if there was any scandal that the blame for it would the Jin’s.

“She was referring to my dancing.” Xuanyu replied waving a hand to go back to pacing but stopped mid turn. A bright smile spreading across his face.

“I think you’ve got an idea on how to handle this.” Meng Yao grinned up at his brother.

“I do.”

Eight Months Later

Xuanyu watched from a thin parting in panels of silk hiding the stage as the guests settled into their seats below the raised platform for his performance. A gift to his husband shared with their guests. It would serve a dual purpose tonight. He was going to show Jin Guangshan and Madam Jin that he wasn’t a pawn for them. The long narrow platform that he’d have to use to get up close to the dias where his beloved husband sat with their family and the Jin’s. As expected Jin Guangshan came bringing Madam Jin, Jin Zixuan, and Jin Yanli.

His dark eyes seeking out his husband. The beautiful man still dressed in his red robes was speaking with Wei Wuxian of Yunmeng Jiang sect, who was standing near where sect Leader Lan Xichen of GusuLan sect was seated with his brother and uncle. He knew that Meng Yao had placed them closest to him to help distract him from the Jin’s. Jiang Cheng, his husbands other best friend and sect leader of Yunmeng Jiang sect was sitting on the other side close to Jin Zixuan and Jin Yanli. Then his eyes went to his brother sitting beside Mingjue. Despite the dimpled smile from this distance even he could tell that Meng Yao’s jaw was tense. However, that faded as Mingjue lifted his brother’s hand moving it to kiss his inner wrist. A real smile spread across his face.

Satisfied with the state of his family, Xuanyu turned to the disciple awaiting his command to start, he stated, “It’s time.”

Out in the great hall, all the candelabras went out engulfing the room in darkness. The room once filled with chatter became silent. All eyes going towards the stage. A wonderfully constructed wall with a set of wooden sliding doors was designed for this evening. The sound of a sanxian being tapped followed by a white glow flickering to life from behind the doors showing a silhouette of someone standing there. The doors parted revealing Xuanyu. As the beats continued, Xuanyu slowly stepped out as carefully hung lanterns from either side of the stage above the guests heads began to glow filling the room with dim light.

The new light revealed him dressed in not his wedding robes. Hanging from his shoulders, a heavy golden outer robe with a long trail that never seemed to end as he stepped out. Beneath the outer robe is another of white silk with golden sparks-amidst- snow peony’s embroidered on it. His normally braided half up hair was completely up in a simple elegant bun tied with a golden ribbon. A swipe of golden paint from one eye across his to the other making his dark eyes stand out and one golden stripe in the center of his bottom lip.

As he brought his left hand up that held a parasol the beats changed to play a soft beguiling song as if something was approaching. The light that had revealed him suddenly extinguished. He continued to move on down the walkway not looking back, he opened the parasol carefully to show the crowd that the design on the top was one of a stunningly golden painting of Koi Tower. Then he brought the parasol up right over his head. The sound of a single beat against the sanxian had him stopping and turning to look over his shoulder at the still open doors.

Xuanyu expression of indifference changed to fear as he let a hand move to hover over his chest. His head turning back towards the end of the walkway. He slowly began to lower himself to sit upon his feet while the now trembling hand moved to gesture behind him as if to tell someone to stop. It only lasted a moment before he rose up never going completely down. His arm slowly falling back to his side only to go forward. Xuanyu reached out his lithe hand with the palm towards the floor and his fingers elegantly curling pointing towards the dais. His ash colored eyes meeting his beloved’s briefly before bringing his hand up to towards his face.

A dizi began to join the sanxian giving the tone a sense of eeriness. Xuanyu turned before to the side letting that hand drop to his stomach. Suddenly, a glow came from above him had him tilting his head to look up. A shower of peony petals began to float down like dusting of snow from the heaven’s. He extended his arm back out letting it curl in the air with the petals. The drumming against the sanxian became less frequent and the dizi playing along had Xuanyu turning back to walk down the walkway. His foot extending out from the hem of the robes revealing golden silk flats upon it. He curved his foot making a zig-zag motion one foot after another.

He came to a stop in the middle of the walkway letting the hand holding the parasol swing down allowing the petals to fall freely upon on him. Then began to swing the parasol back and forth without bringing it full up as he took several more steps. Xuanyu came to a stop rotating the arm with the parasol counter clockwise as he dropped to his knee. The parasol hiding him for a brief moment. Both instruments stopped before suddenly started playing again. The song slowly picking up as if a decision was being made as Xuanyu rose up. He had one hand at the bottom of the parasol while the other was halfway up the rod turning to were the top of his hand was facing his face. He brought parasol completely up to cover him once again from the shower of petals. His arms reaching high as he curled his body backwards. As he did so the golden out robe was yanked from his shoulders. The heavy golden robe was quickly drawn back into the darkness from where he’d stepped out.

Xuanyu quickly acted as if he was going to toss the parasol into the air but kept hold. He stumbled purposefully back. He then moved forward keeping his arms extended fully out as he swung the parasol back in forth. Between the hurried tempo of the song and his movements it was as if he was fighting something they couldn’t see. He got almost a third of a quarter down the walkway coming to a stop. Still moving frantically he stepped out of his golden slippers leaving him barefoot on the platform.

He could feel the blossoms beneath his feet as he continued to twirl and swing his arms. It wasn’t until he was half way back that threw the parasol at the open doors. Once the parasol rolled in between the doors promptly snapped shut. Xuanyu spun back around to go back to the end of the walkway. Despite the hurried steps his twists and twirls in sync with the music like he was running away from something his moves were refined. The movements allowing for him to carefully undo the stays of his white and gold outer robe. So as he danced it would be easy to let the panels fall to the ground once he was on the circular platform in front of the dais.

The song started to escalate towards the climax. He got to the edge of the walkway twirling off of it. The rise of ashes that was all over the circular platform rose up in the air as he tactfully twisted around letting himself fall to the ground. Xunayu’s hair ribbon came undone letting his hair spill down over his shoulders and face. The flute ceasing as the sanxian bonged once before playing a trembling tune as he raised a quivering hand. He let himself shake as he tried to rise only to collapse on the ground. The sanxian stopped and the room went to complete darkness again.

The dizi started again as a harsh light was casted only on Xuanyu. He sluggishly rose to his knees and has he did so the white silk panels fell from him revealing the black silk hanfu beneath. His hands reaching up towards the light source. His fingers all the way to the knuckles of his fingers had soot on them from the ashes on the ground. His sleeves covering his face from the audience as the arms crossed and he leaned back. His hair a black waterfall. Xuanyu’s eyes closed and as if in a trance to go with the shifting music he leaned forward keeping his sleeves in front of his face to hide it then rose to his feet. The sanxian joined with dizi and Xuanyu lowered his arms to reveal that the gold was gone leaving behind a soot score from his left temple down to the right jaw bone as if from a beast.

He turned around so that his back was to the dais dropping to another kneel. His right arm up in front of him while the other folded to his back. In front of him the ash began to stir as Xuanyu used his own ability to make it morph into his version of what the great Nie beast looked like. It swayed along to the song tracking his movements. Xuanyu’s right arm rose up and down before he twisted and turned letting his sleeves glide in the air. He rose maneuvering to the left as his arms rose to cover his face to just beneath his eyes. Giving them emphasis. He kept his gaze to his husband. A smile he couldn’t stop sweeping onto his lips at the look of utter awe and adoration on Huaisang’s face.

He turned widening his arms out allowing the beast to curl around his body as he moved to stand on one leg while the other curled. His arms swinging down moments later as he set his foot down to twirl again. The song approaching it’s conclusion. The beast moving away from him to rise above him growing larger with eyes that glowed bright green. As he dropped down to kneel before his husband in front of the dais. The beast rose up opening its mouth as if to roar then dissolved into a pile as the song ended.

The room erupted with a series of claps and some cheerful yelling from his husband. Xuanyu chuckled rising to his feet. He looked to gage Mingjue and Meng Yao’s approval. The nod Mingjue gave him was telling enough when their eyes met. Xuanyu felt a swell of pride. Of course his husband’s approval meant everything but to have Mingjue’s meant that he’d honored their family and sect tonight with this performance. Meng Yao’s dimpled real smile had let him know that he too approved as well. He bowed to his husband then gave his respectful bow to the others to dismiss himself to get changed and join his reception.

The reception hall was decorated with beautiful gold and red streamers and silk panels. Huaisang sat at his table awaiting his husbands return. When he’d heard about the performance he’d been excited but also sad because he hadn’t been able to sneak any peeks at practice session. He was glad though that he hadn’t gotten too. It had been breathtaking. When Xuanyu went back to get ready for the reception he’d snuck a glance over at Jin Guangshan and Madam Jin. His husband’s father had a smile on his face but he could see the tension in his body. The man was upset. His wife having never had a sense of decorum had a scowl on her face. He didn’t care. The message had been made clear. Xuanyu is a Nie now. His old life is gone.

“Don’t look so forlorn, Nie-xiong. Your beautiful swan will return to you.” Wei Wuxian teased as he walked over to him. Wen Ning, Wei Wuxian’s childhood friend, was walking beside him. He gave Huaisang a shy nod of the head to greet him.

Stirred from his thoughts, Huaisang laughed, “I know.“ A disciple came offering cups of wine. Wei Wuxian and he took one. We Ning declined and the disciple left them.

“You must have thought this day would never come.” Wei Wuxian said before taking a drink from his cup. “Ooo, this is good.” Wen Ning gave him an amused look before turning to see where his sister had gone off too. He spotted her over with Lan Xichen, lan Wangji, Nie Mingjue and Nie Meng Yao.

“I never doubted that it would. Any path I’d have taken in my life would have led me to this moment.” Huaisang replied, “And that wine be familiar to you since it’s emperors smile.”

“That’s why I said it.” Wei Wuxian laughed leaning into Wen Ning.

“Ugh you sound just like this idiot.” Jiang Cheng smirked gesturing towards Wei Wuxian as he stepped up to them. “We are all bound to a fated person some day.” He stated in a mocking tone that was supposed to be his brother.

“Hey!” Wei Wuxian pouted playfully earning a glare with no heat in his eyes from Jiang Cheng.

“Congratulations.” Jiang Cheng replied reaching out to shake his hand.

“Thank Y-“ Huaisang started but his words got stuck in his throat. His eyes glancing over Jiang Cheng’s shoulder as the doors to the hall opened revealing Xuanyu. His mouth went dry. He’d been beautiful in his wedding robes before but this hanfu was stunning. One that A-Ai’s skilled hands designed. The red silk matching his own with golden trim that was detailed with the great beast motif. Xuanyu’s black hair is swept up in a gorgeous braided top knot exposing his delicate neck. His beautiful face clear of makeup except the red dusting on his eyelids making his dark eyes stand out against his pale skin. Their eyes met and Huaisang swallowed.

“What are you...oh!” Wei Wuxian laughed leaning into Huaisang wrapping an arm around his shoulder when caught sight of Xuanyu. “Are you just going to stare or are you going to go greet your husband? You lucky dog.”

Huaisang laughed with his friends before moving to head towards his husband. He tilted his head letting him know that he wanted them to end up near their brother’s.

Xuanyu felt his lips tilt upward into a big smile as the sight of Huaisang seeing him enter. He’d been greeted with clapping as confetti poppers released red and gold confetti but that look was everything. His heart racing at the desire in his husbands eyes. He gave a nod walking towards them.

“You were a vision, Xuanyu-Xiong!” Wei Wuxian greeted him as thy all stood in a group. Huaisang coming to stand beside Xuanyu. “It rendered your beloved husband in such a state that he couldn’t think.”

“Oi, don’t tell him that.” Huaisang fussed despite the smile on his face.

“You are truly talented xiao-Yu.” Lan Xichen praised him. “I was told by A-Yao that you were the one to write the song that was played as well as your dance.”

Xuanyu smiled nodding shyly. While he could take Meng Yao’s or Huaisang’s praise. He still has trouble with others.

He was about to thank them when he heard the sound Madam Jin’s loud shrill of a voice talking to Su Shi. A high born man of Lan sect who defected when Lan Wangji surpasses him and refused to acknowledge him. He created his own sect free from the traditional rules of Lan sect. He was known to be hungry for allies and of course to have someone in their pocket. Madame Jin and Jin Guangshan had him wrapped around their fingers.

“So shameful! How dare he do such a thing. That performance, if that’s what you call it, was a monstrous sight.” She complained earning a dutiful nod from Su Shi.

“Mother!” Jin Zixuan sharply scolded.

Huaisang turned to say something but Xuanyu stopped him. Held high with a smile on his face he spoke up bringing the room to attention. His dark eyes boring into Madam Jin’s honeyed eyes, “You must have forgotten where you are Madam Jin. You’re in the Unclean Realm. Home of Qinghe Nie Sect and we are all monsters here.”

#our war of hearts au #sangyu #nieyao #im so sorry it takes me forever to write #thank you for always challenging me #i am not a dancer just a terrible thinker lol #i dont beta so i apologze for errors #thanks for reading while i go hide in my pterodactyl nest

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all-things-fic · 5 years

Note

first kisses pleeaaaaseeeee

First kisses: Hesitant and nervous. Lips hover inches from each other for afew seconds before they just barely brush. It’s just a soft press, but itignites their entire bodies. Pinkies link afterwards, still wanting to beclose, and each looks down, smiling softly.

Based off these prompts

***

You wanted to kiss him.

You didn’t have any idea what he wastalking about as you were holed up in the hidden jewel of a pub under LondonBridge that looked like it had walked straight out of a Charles Dickens novel.All you were aware of was that his lips were incredibly pink, and mesmerisingand he had some of the best teeth you’d ever seen, straight but still so fullof character. And whatever it was that he was saying had you laughing, headthrown back as your hand clutched at your pewter tankard of beer in thecharacterful bar, which was so quintessentially British with its genuinesurroundings that it had you filled with an indescribable warmth and comfort.

It was when he repeated the punchline of the joke around a chuckle of his own, almost in disbelief that both youand he found it so funny, that you prayed somewhere within you that he’d beensaving it just for you. That part of him wanted to impress you just as much asyou did him.

And honestly, this wasn’t meant tohappen was it? You weren’t meant to standing in the corner of the pub,sheltered from the hustle and bustle of millennials also enjoying a cosy night,by Harry Styles who stood in front of you dressed every inch the soft boyfriendyou didn’t even realise that you had been longing for. Because the night you’doriginally met him hadn’t meant to have happened. That night you’d been draggedout to Shoreditch, almost kicking and screaming because you didn’t want to goand meet your friend’s latest conquest who went by the name of Johnny.

But Johnny’s friend Harry had beenevery inch kind and funny, never mind intelligent and quick witted to match.He’d taken interest in you, his eyes letting you know he was just as much awarethat both he and you were the wingmen for the evening, both willing to sufferto aid a friend. But no suffering took place. He’d somehow manage to coaxstories out of you that evening, over your Gin and Tonic and his glass of tequila,that even your eldest friends didn’t know in as much detail. And somewherebetween buying you a double Hendricks and slimline tonic – without the cucumber– he’d taken to enjoying the way you said his name and wrinkled your nose inhis direction when he became a bit too laddie with his jibing. And sure, youwere easy on the eye, but he knew he wanted more than to just shag you,especially the minute he’d seen the way you’d heatedly knocked back the rest ofyour drink the minute you’d overheard the mention of Brexit on the table nextto you.

As you thought back to that night, alittle over three weeks ago, while you stared into his twinkling eyes from thebar lights behind you, what you didn’t realise was he was thinking the exactsame thing. Harry was conscious that he was beaming, from ear to ear, eyesglassy with pure adoration and he was giggling. Giggling. He wasnervous, palms sweaty, being rubbed against the back of his jeans several timesthat evening in fear that his glass would indeed slip from his grip with hisfumbling and shaky fingers and he would make an absolute tit of himself.

“That was awful,” you giggled,pressing your lips to the cool exterior of your tankard, watching the way heplayfully raised his eyebrows at you and your complete lack of confidence inhow you tried to play it like you hadn’t loved his Dad joke after all.

“It was, wasn’t it?” he scrunched hisface up at you in agreement, dropping his head and shaking it quickly beforelooking back at you.

When his eyes met yours instantly ashe raised his head, you watched the way he wiped his palm down his lightlystubbled face and found yourself wondering if he had a made a consciousdecision to come out looking more unkempt than the last time you’d shared hiscompany as a way to go incognito.

Cause you were conscious about theway you were stood, wedged into the corner. So close to each other that if heor you were to take a step forward your chests would be pressed together. Andall it took was the swipe of a phone screen to snap a picture and the wholecarefree aspects of the Sunday evening rendezvous would change. Especiallygiven the way that his body was angled towards yours.

“Wha’s wrong? Have I got summat onm’face?”

The apples of your cheeks warmed, asyou watched him wiped along his jaw before you could even respond to hisquestion. His thumb and forefinger wiped along the outline of his lips,pinching delicately at his bottom lip for the shortest time but long enough foryou to see.

“Just a poor excuse for facial hair,”you joked, a smile creeping onto your lips as you saw the way his jaw moved from side to side, before herolled his lips into his mouth, trying to fight smiling at your joke at hisexpense. You were surprised he hadn’t gone with the age old drop of his jaw inmock offence at your jibe.

“I’ll remember you said that,” hereplied, enjoying the way you nudged your chin up at him in a fashion that toldhim you were more than ready when he was to get into a friendly exchange full of teasing remarks. He cleared his throat, as he kept hiseyes on you, nervously biting at the inside of his cheek to hold back hisdimples from forming and giving away just how soft he was from simply admiringyou.

“‘M sure you will,” you sipped youdrink, keeping your eyes trained on the way his dropped to your lips as youlicked them following swallowing your beer. “You’re thinking something.”

“Might be,” he shot back, noddinglightly as his eyes trailed over your face, lingering on your lips as he sawthe way you nervously pulled your bottom lip into his mouth. And he knew hischeeks were flushing pink, he knew because he saw the softest smile pulllopsidedly onto your lips. “Is it me, or is it hot in ‘ere?”

That caused you to laugh, headdropping backwards and lightly hitting the stone wall, which was painted white,behind you.

And before he could stop himself, hewas dropping his head forward, resting the tip is his nose into your tiltedback jawline as he tittered breathily against your chin.

“‘M thinking a lot of things,” hemumbled as he felt the way your chest stopped shaking while your laughter dieddown. He was all to aware the compromising position he found himself in now,but he didn’t care because the way your perfume pulled him in made him know hedidn’t want to smell another scent in his entire life but instead find outwhich one he would be buying your for the rest of yours. “Can’t believe I jus’said tha’-“

“Like what?” your question was light,choosing to ignore his follow up comment, as he hummed and relieved your hand of thetankard glass, placing it messily against the wooden bar to his left.

“Things like kissing you,” heanswered truthfully, his nose nudging against your skin silently coaxing you todrop your face down to his.

“Really?” you asked, a mixturebetween a surprised squeak and dreamy sigh. How was someone so attractive andself-assured suddenly adorably diffident.

“Oh yea’,” he hummed, nodding andletting his eyes fall over your face, taking note of your fluttery lashes andthe light freckles that dotted the bridge of your nose and cheekbones.

He thought you were beautiful before,but up this close and personal he was without doubt about to become the biggestfool for you.

“What are you waiting for?” Youasked, hand now free from your drink make it so it could clasp gently at the cableknit jumper and pull him just that little bit closer to you.

He cast his eyes from you, downwardto see the pleasing way your red nails looked against the grey fabric of hisjumper. “Can’t,” he clasped, “Not in ‘ere, doll.”

Someone surely had to have recognisedhim by now and while it killed him to not simply cup your jaw and devour youuntil neither of you could breathe, he didn’t want to put you under scrutiny soearly on.

Regardless of the way you wereplayfully close to him, cheekily nudging your nose to the side of his andlooking into his eyes so deeply, he knew he couldn’t give in and hang you out todry. You were already too special to him for that.

Lips hovering so close and over eachother, they barely brushed as your eyes sparkled back at him. “‘M in so muchtrouble wi’you,” he admitted, as his chuckle bounced against your lips and heshuffled closer.

You tutted, shaking your head at him and his actions as he almost rubbed histop lip over your bottom and went against his word; dipping down and creating a gap between the two ofyou that had him reaching for your hand trying desperately to keep you closeto.

Next his lips were against your skinof you hand, lips soft and enticing as he mumbled, “Where are you off to?”

Looking at him over your shoulder,you tugged on his hand, “To find a dark corner we can snog in.”

It was simple and almost teenage-likeas he fell over his feet and crashed his chest to your back, tripping overthe leg of someone’s chair as they sat in the bar and laughing out a “sorry,mate” as you giggled in front of him and hastily found your way to the pubentrance, tugging him behind you as you went.

God, you were anxious, a nervousnessbubble running through you like no other you had felt. His fingers fitted so easilynext to yours as he slotted his still clammy - there was no way around it -hand, that he once again brought up to his lips.

You didn’t know where you were goingas you exited the pub, head turning to the left as Harry ushered you with anudge of his chest to your shoulder to just go with it. Andyou stumbled a little, both wanting to stay close to each other as you zigzagged the tiny path underneath the bridge talking about mindless nonsense andadmitting out-loud that you felt “a little bit pissed” now that the cold nightair had hit you.

With his thumb stroking yourknuckles, he chuckled and desperately hoped you weren’t too pissed that you’dregret this the next morning because all he could think about was how he wasplanning your second date. And your third. Even your fourth and fifth.

“Strangely nice down here,” youwhispered as the sound of Londoners and the city seemed the fade the furtheryou walked. Save the clicking of your boots, or was it his? “S’it hidden enoughfor you?” You teased, taking to turning and walking backwards as you looked athim and felt him reach from your second hand, lacing your fingers together.

He shushed you, playfully, trying toget you to come closer to him but noticing the way you stubbornly planted yourfeet against the cobble stone beneath you, making it more of a challenge to getyou to come back him. “S’tha’ how it’s gonna be, wan’ me to come to youinstead?”

He hummed, tugging on your hand againto give it another shot. You budged, even if only slightly, as he hummed,“Thanks for comin’ out wi’me-“

“Thanks for asking,” you responded,shyly letting your feet take you to him to close the short distance between thetwo of you.

Then it fell silent and a heavinesslingered between you both as he admired you in the dim moonlight. “I’d quitelike to do this again, t’be ‘onest,” he admitted, brushing some of your hairoff your shoulder and cupping his hand gently against your neck. “If you’ll‘ave me, that is.”

Humming you whispered, “I’d quitelike that too.”

“Would ya?” He asked, dropping hisforehead to yours and seeing the way your eyes drooped as nervous and breathypants bounced against his lips. “And again,” he nudged his nose against yoursas he lifted to slide it to the other side, lips barely brushing, “and again,and again, and-“

You pushed up onto your tip toes,only slightly in your heels to cut off his husky voice and hesitantly took hislip top lip in between yours. Hand gripping to the back of his neck, you desperatelywishing he hadn’t opted for a beanie as you sought to push your hands throughhis hair and anchor his lips to you.

Nails delicately dug into the skin onthe back of his neck as you felt him smile against your lips, slightly pleasedthat you’d been the first to cave into your urges because you were just thatinto him too.

Harry was quick to change the way youdesperately squashed your faces together, letting out a tiny breath when hebrushed his lips and tilted your faces just the way he wanted it to firmlypress your lips together. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip, and hefelt you shuffle a little bit closer to him as he widened his stance andpressed his hand firmly against the small of your back to help your chests meldtogether and for you to feel secure in his hold.

You hand clung to the fabric of hisjumper at the top of his shoulder blades as he coaxed your mouth to open widerfor him with a smooth of his thumb along your chin and jawline. And he smiled,what you knew even without seeing was the dreamiest smile, as vibrations ofprotests fell from your lips when he ever so slightly lifts his lips away fromyours longer than before to test whether you were ready for him to mouth hisway along your jawline and below.

How was this better than you hadimagined and how had he not fucked it up? You were good, so good at this,together. Soft sighs and quiet hums, gentle flicks of your tongue, warm and wetin the best way possible and gripping as his hands cupped your neck so gentlyrunning soothing circles along your exposed neck and enjoying the way your freehand held his forearm leaving occasional light scratches against the fabric ofhis jumper.

You tasted like he thought. Sweet andsatisfying. And when you parted, mainly because you couldn’t ignore the burningof your chest and the way he was panting through his nose, Harry pressedpanting pecks to your lips, chasing after you when you fell down from your tiptoes and back to your normal height. He was definitely a goner.

You were just as giddy, especiallywhen you felt his toothy grin against the apple of your cheek, which was justas prominent and round due to the smile that was held upon your lips. The feelof him shaking his head, his nose squashing into your skin as he heard yourthroaty laugh, head tilting back, made his heart soar.

“Any good for you?” he hummed,deeply, body falling forward as yours bent back and he clung to you. Hisquestioning wasn’t bashful, it wasn’t even him needing an answer. He knew thekiss the two of your shared was good. He knew by the girly giggle that yoursquealed at the end of the sexiest laugh he’d heard from you that evening, andhe knew because your fingers were desperately trying to tangle into his hairunderneath his beanie.

But he knew mainly from the way your lipstrembled, ever so slightly as he lingered at the corner of your mouth knowinghe wouldn’t need to be asked twice if you wanted to go again.

“‘M not sure, try me again,” youpurred, feeling the way he melted against you.

“Be my fuckin’ pleasure.”

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry prompt #harry fluff #harry styles one shot #harry one shot #my writing #kissing prompts

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iamalivenow · 4 years

Text

They're drinking together, the three of them, when Zagreus runs by.

Nothing out of the ordinary really, he talks to them, all smiles, and discreetly slides an amber bottle to Hypnos, runs a hand across Megaera's shoulders and lingers by Thanatos' side for a few second, warm and pleasant enough that Than almost smiles, before he pivots on his heel to talk to Dusa and the Broker. If he leans back in his seat, Than can see Zagreus talking to Nyx.

“He's great huh?” Hypnos sighs, sounding very- what is that- and leaning on the table.

“He's fine.” Meg sighs and sounds much more irritated. “That's contraband, and I'm confiscating it.”

“Huh- Wait-” But the bottle is already in Meg's hand. “No fair- that's my Zag gift, not yours- Thanatos!” Meg just arcs a brow in his direction.

“I'm not aiding and abating criminals.” He says and Hypnos slumps on the table, whining.

“Come on- it's not fair that he's into the both of you- the rest of us have to subsist on-”

“Okay, that's enough.” Megaera says just as Lord Hades shouts for him in the main hall. “Go do your job.”

Hypnos goes, moping the entire way. His list forgotten on the table.

“What was that about?”

“What was what about.” Meg looks at him for a while, then uncorks the bottle and pours some of it into Than's glass. She pushes it towards him and after a moment he of confusion he drinks. It's warming, all the way down to his bones. Thinking about what Zagreus had to do to find it warms him too, some what. “You know that everyone likes him right?”

“I thought everyone was annoyed with him.” Which made sense, what with the abandonment.

“Everyone's a little in love with him.” Than blinks, face heating. Some minor part of him still wants to say he still isn't but that's a point less lie to try and spin to Meg of all people. Everyone though- certainly not.

“You're projecting.”

“Than.” She seems offended even at the suggestion. “Think about it.”

He doesn't want to.

Their relationship, his and Zag's is new and tentative and too much like a new born on shaky trembling legs to really think about it.

“I've been away for awhile.” Things change, he means. Meg doesn't look amused, presumably because she doesn't have the luxury of being called to the surface. His own mounting affection for Zagreus was harder and harder to ignore too, especially when Zag constantly being around. It's almost as if he isn't really trying to get out, but Than knows that's not true.

He's know about Dusa having a crush because the entire House knows that Dusa has a crush, but he doesn't want to dwell on the way that the shades great him, the way Hypnos always brightens up when ever it's Zagreus that comes out of the pool, the way the court musician sang literal songs about him-

“Yeah.” Meg says and pours him a little more nectar. “That's the face I was waiting for.”

“All of them-”

“I wouldn't be all that surprised if some of the gods weren't at least a little interested too. You know how they're like.”

Thantos finishes the rest of his drink quickly and picks up his scythe.

It's easy to feign the call of war to anyone at any time but the way Megaera sighs, he's pretty sure he isn't fooling her at all.

…

He's not following Zagreus.

He isn't- really he isn't. But it's easy to hide and listen in to Aphrodite's shameless flirting, and the way that Ares and Artemis both compliment his brutality, and the way Dionysus and Hermes both please for his quick arrival. Meg had told him about how Zagreus always seemed to find time to distract Sisyphus from his punishment but she failed to mentions how the prisoner in Asphodel would cook for him or how Achilles' husband would take time out of his rambling.

Some quiet poison settles into the back of his mind, whispering how Zagreus would so easily find comfort in the hands of apparent thousands.

How was he supposed to compete? He knew that Zagreus and Megaera had a history that maybe wasn't that distant but when Than stopped glowering quiet so much he and Meg got along fair enough. And besides, Zagreus wanted different things from Meg- but it was just Meg before.

Now all of a sudden everyone's noticed how good Zagreus is.

“Than?”

The fields in Elysium are always comfortably cool, a gentle breeze under shaded trees. The light filters through gently, enough that the copious ornamentation glitters brightly. It's relatively quiet, for the most part, occasional battle cries carried on the wind but peaceful.

A perfect place to have an emotional breakdown in front of you crush.

“What?” He snaps and regrets it almost immediately. He lowers down, feet settling on the grass.

“You- okay? If you're not I got this place-” Than is almost scared to look at him, because Zagreus isn't stupid, full hardy escape attempts aside, and if he sees Than's face, he'll know. He'll know immediately and then try and console him and that would make him look even worse and- “Than?”

He almost snaps out a what again, but then Zagreus is touching his hand, his fingers rough with years of fighting and warm from his current pointless exercise. When Thanatos doesn't react, keeps staring at the statues in the field, Zagreus pushes his hand into Thantos' grasp, locks their fingers together and squeezes.

“You don't have to.”

“Did I do something wrong?” He's close now, closer even, and heat radiates off of him in waves. “More wrong, rather.” And he laughs a little bit and Thanatos' sigh gets caught in his throat.

“Nothing.” It comes out shaky. “Just thinking about work.”

“Whatever you say,” But he doesn't let go. Instead, Zagreus runs his thumb over Than's hand, delicate as anything. “Will it make you feel better if I let you win?” And he laughs again and finally, Thanatos can't take it and turns his head.

His smile is radiant.

“I let you win every time, Zagreus. You need the confidence boost.”

“I'm plenty confident, Than.”

He wants to say something, he even opens his mouth, but then Zagreous closes the remaining inches and kisses him, light and sweet and just the way he knows Thanatos likes.

His mind is clear for the first time in hours.

Blessed silence.

“Too confident.” Thanatos says, but his voice is barely a whisper and Zag is still grinning and his face is warming up and it takes every single fiber of his being to stop from flashing all the way up to the surface.

“You like when I'm confident.”

Yes.

Yes, he really does.

#hades game #hades #writing #full fic

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unfortunate-stranger-losers · 4 years

Photo

All Those Things They Couldn’t Say - A Runaway Baudelaires AU

{ao3} {tumblr} {masterlist}

Chapter Thirty-Two - Everything Goes to Shit

“What do you mean, you can’t move the bus until the morning?” Beatrice asked furiously.

The bus driver sighed, not looking very concerned at her panic. “It’s a regular maintenance procedure. I apologize, ma’am, but you’ll either have to walk or wait until tomorrow.”

“Great. Fucking perfect.” Beatrice muttered. Then she thanked the driver anyway and went back to Bertrand and Quigley.

Quigley was checking his small atlas, while Bertrand re-checked the supplies in his bag, while talking to entertain the boy.

“-her resourcefulness continues to amaze me. You wouldn’t believe how many times her fast inventions have saved us. I don’t think she even knows how much she saves our lives every day.”

“That sounds awesome.” Quigley said wistfully, before looking up at Beatrice.

“Well,” Beatrice clapped her hands together, causing Bertrand to look up, too, “We’re either walking or waiting for the next bus. Tomorrow morning.”

“I think we could make it if we walk.” Quigley said, tracing a road in his atlas. “If we just follow the road, we should be able to reach town in just a few hours. Better than just sitting around.”

“In the open.” Bertrand added nervously.

Beatrice sighed. “You’re right about that. Let’s get a move on. Quigley, if you get tired-”

“I’ll be fine.” Quigley reassured her. “I keep telling you, I’m good at walking.”

“But you’re just getting over an illness, we don’t want-”

“I’m going to be fine, Ms Beatrice.” Quigley said earnestly. “And if I’m not, I’ll tell you, okay?”

“Okay.” Beatrice sighed. She helped Quigley to his feet, and then her husband, and she said, “Let’s get walking. If we start now, we’ll probably only be in the dark for a little while.”

Unfortunately, they didn’t even have the chance to make it to nightfall.

Quigley flipped through his atlas as they walked, directing them down paths near a woods, and then by the edge of a lake. Beatrice kept peering into the churning waters curiously, watching the waves push to and fro and the occasional fish or turtle flit around.

“Darling, have we been at this lake before?” she asked.

Bertrand shrugged. “Honey, you know all lakes look the same to me.”

Beatrice smiled slightly, hugging herself. “Yeah. Sunny’s just like you in that regard. You see the most beautiful work of nature and you’re like ‘cool, whatever, let’s go home.’”

“Also I cannot remember what things look like.”

“Dear, you-” Beatrice suddenly cut herself off, staring into the water.

“Bea?”

Beatrice knelt down and dipped a finger into the lake, watching it ripple around her. She went dead silent, and then said, “We were here.”

“Bea?”

“Ms Beatrice?”

“This is… no. No, no, no…”

Bertrand put a hand on her shoulder, worry flickering across his face. “Bea, what’s wrong?”

Beatrice didn’t respond, but she did stand up. She gave the others a terrified look, and then she took off running. Without thinking, Quigley and Bertrand ran after her, assuming she must have a good reason for taking off so suddenly and not wanting to risk staying behind.

Bertrand realized what it was when the area did, indeed, start to look familiar to him, and they turned a bend in the road, and Beatrice skidded to a stop, her eyes widening in shock and her heart dropping in her chest. When Bertrand turned the bend, too, he froze beside her, and threw a hand over his mouth.

“No. No, no, no…”

Quigley stopped beside them, his eyes going wide. “What is-”

Up ahead was an enormous, charred pile of rubble, ash, and what used to be a series of large buildings. Quigley could see broken fences nearby, charred remains of support beams and roof tiles, and piles of collapsed wood and stone. Police tape stretched between small poles, but it was cut and falling and dirtied, and some looked like it’d been soaked by rain, which meant the area was pretty much abandoned now. It didn’t spread too far- he could even see the end of it within his sightline. But clearly something very important and big had been destroyed.

And it was clearly upsetting the Baudelaires.

“What… what was it?” Quigley asked.

At the word was, Beatrice let out a strangled cry, and took off into the rubble. Bertrand hesitated, and then put an arm around Quigley, who realized that the man was shaking.

“It’s Valorous Farms Dairy.” he said quietly. “This is… this is where Lemony was born. And where… where he-”

Quigley glanced up at him, and carefully leaned into his side, hoping that provided some comfort.

Bertrand shut his eyes, and then said, “We have to go through, but we’re not going to take this well, Quigley. I need you to stick as close to me as possible, do not leave our sight.”

Quigley nodded, and slowly, Bertrand stepped forwards, trying to follow his wife.

Beatrice, clearly, was not thinking of getting past the rubble, instead moving through it in a hurried daze. She would stop every now and again and kick aside a pile of wood, or push aside a collapsed wall to see the earth underneath. Her eyes were wide and her breath came in ragged gasps as she zig-zagged her way through.

Carefully, Bertrand stepped away from Quigley, grabbing his wife’s arm. “Bea, no, stop.”

“What if he’s here, what if he’s hurt, what if he’s-”

“Bea, it’s been weeks. It’s been weeks, we just need to get through.”

“No. No, no, no- no, Bertrand, he could be here-”

“He’s not here, Bea, he’s not here, we just have to keep moving.”

“He wouldn’t give up on us. He wouldn’t- we have to-”

“If he survived, he wouldn’t be here.”

Quigley stepped a bit closer, concerned for the adults, and then he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He turned, seeing the remnants of what looked like a door to a stable. There was something flashing- maybe a watch?

“Bea, we have to keep moving. We have to get to our kids.”

“He could- we could-”

“He’s gone, Bea. He’s gone, and we have to keep going.”

Beatrice shook her head. “I- I thought so- but we- we’re here, and- and he- we’re here, Bertrand, we’re at the farm…”

“Bea, I know, I know, we have to keep moving.”

Quigley crept closer to the stable door. Yeah, there was a part of a watch, halfway covered in dirt and ash. But maybe… he crept closer, still peering over, until he was close enough to the door to try and lift it.

“Bea, please,” Bertrand’s voice broke. “Please, we can’t stay here, it’ll- we’ll just feel so much worse, we need to go-”

“I- I just-”

“I want him back, too, but we need to go!”

Beatrice choked back a sob.

“Bea, please-”

They were cut off by Quigley screaming.

They immediately took off, running towards the boy only a few feet away, who had retreated, dropping the stable door and almost falling over in his haste to get away. Bertrand grabbed him, looked over, and immediately pulled the trembling boy behind him, instinctively hugging him so his face was shielded away from the body.

Beatrice, meanwhile, just collapsed.

“Quigley, don’t look,” Bertrand muttered, shutting his own eyes so he wouldn’t have to see- “Quigley, don’t look. Bea, we have to go, now.”

Beatrice didn’t respond. Bertrand wasn’t even sure she heard him. Unlike him, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the remains of what once had been a person, a person they… she couldn’t even hold herself up, she was on her hands and knees and sobbing and screaming and completely trapped in that moment.

So she didn’t even hear when, behind them, Olaf said, “You know, if you’d stayed put, you wouldn’t have had to see this.”

Bertrand sprang immediately into action. He pushed Quigley away, the opposite direction of Olaf, and said, “Quigley, go! Don’t look back, go!” Quigley, thankfully listening, started to run, while Bertrand ran to his wife, wrapping his arms around her, trying to lift her up. Beatrice kept screaming, not even able to process what was happening, and before Bertrand could even get her off the ground, he was grabbed and yanked back.

“No! Bea-”

He tried to push back, fight back, but something was slammed against him, and then his wrists were cuffed back, and then-

He let out a scream as something cut into his side, and he doubled over just as he caught sight of his wife, pinned to the ground and tied back again. She didn’t even react, barely even moved, and just sobbed. Bertrand tried to keep his eyes on her so he could ignore the pain in his side, but eventually he felt blood start to fall, and Esmé stepped in front of him, as the Bald Man behind him forced him onto his knees and made certain he was sitting up so she could wave the knife in front of him. “This,” she said, a smile flitting across her face, “Is just the first of many punishments you’re going to get for that little stunt in Paltryville.”

Bertrand shook his head, his brain clouding and his eyes darting back to Beatrice. The White-Faced Women and dragged her closer to him, but when he tried to move over to reach her, to touch her, to comfort her, Esmé stepped between them, knelt down, and pierced the cut again, dragging her knife deeper under his skin.

He screamed, and Beatrice finally looked up, finally started to realize something was happening. Esmé took that opportunity to turn around and say, “I would settle down for now, darling, or you’ll lose your other boytoy here.”

Beatrice stared, transfixed, at Bertrand’s cut, and then she shut her mouth, tears still streaming down her face, struggling to breathe and stay focused, stay calm, keep her husband alive. Esmé smirked as Bertrand muttered his wife’s name, his voice breaking.

Bertrand didn’t think it was possible to me more afraid at that moment, but he was proven wrong as soon as he heard Fernald call, “Yeah, boss, this doesn’t look like one of their kids.”

Both Baudelaires whipped around, their eyes widening in horror as they saw that Fernald was using his hooks to hold a terrified, trembling Quigley in place. Olaf stepped over, grabbing the boy’s face and lifting it up, and Quigley bit back more tears, trying to stay calm. Bertrand opened his mouth to say something, his mind racing. Olaf had already seen him tell him to run, he couldn’t say he didn’t know him- maybe he could pretend he’d only just met him? Maybe…

“You’re right, this isn’t one of their brats. Unless they had more than we thought.” Olaf said, a smirk flickering across his face. Then he narrowed his eyes. “You know what? He looks like those twins who helped the Baudelaire children escape.”

“The Quagmires?” Esmé strutted over, leaning over to look Quigley in the face. Then something sparked in her eye. “Oh, now this is delightful. You’re the Quagmire who died in the fire, didn’t you? That one twin they kept crying about. Quiggleforth?”

“Quigley.” he said quietly, his voice finally coming to him. Fernald slowly released him, only for Esmé to grab his shoulders. Quigley shook more and demanded, “Where are Duncan and Isadora? What did you do to them?”

“Your spoiled siblings are causing us a bit of trouble.” Esmé cooed, squeezing his shoulders. “But now that we have you, we don’t need them to get your sapphires, do we?”

“Olaf!” Bertrand cried. “Esmé! Please, let him go, we won’t try to run again just leave him alone!”

Olaf sighed and walked over to Bertrand, staring down at him. “We both know that’s a promise you won’t keep.”

“We will, please, just let him go, he’s not ours-”

“Keep talking, Bertrand,” Olaf said, “And we’ll give your wife a nice cut to match yours.”

Bertrand froze, and Beatrice kept sobbing. Her eyes had turned back to the charred corpse, still in her sight and still there, always there.

“Good.” Olaf reached forwards and patted Bertrand’s head, smirking when he flinched. “Maybe one of your darlings will die quickly if you keep behaving. And don’t worry about the Quagmire boy. We have a vested interest in keeping him alive.”

Bertrand and Beatrice looked back to Quigley, who was still shaking and frozen in place as Esmé gripped his shoulders.

“I think you should start losing limbs.” Olaf added, as he looked to his troupe. “Maybe with one less leg you’ll be easier to keep in one place. Hooky, go get the car. And as for-”

At that moment, Esmé let out a screech. Bertrand and Beatrice whipped back to see that Quigley had just given her a kick to the shins, and as they watched, he whirled around and kneed her in the stomach before he took off running. Olaf shouted with fury, and as Quigley looked back at the Baudelaires, they started screaming, too.

“Run!”

“Go, go!”

“Run, don’t look back!”

“Get out!”

Quigley nodded and kept running, and Bertrand felt hands slip away from his own shoulders as the Bald Man gave pursuit, taking off across the rubble. Bertrand reeled back, but before he could even do anything Esmé, furious at what the boy had just done to her, raced over and grabbed his wrists, slamming him into the ground for a moment before hoisting him back up and ripping at his hair with her long, pointed nails.

When Bertrand’s sight cleared, he could see Quigley was still running, but the Bald Man was right behind him. He screamed as the man grabbed onto Quigley’s arm, yanking him back, a snarl on his face. “You little shit! Get back here and-”

Whatever else he intended to say was cut off by Quigley whipping out his pocketknife, flipping it open, and stabbing it right into the Bald Man’s chest.

For a moment, time seemed frozen for everyone. Quigley, terror in his eyes, looked at the knife he’d plunged directly into the man’s heart. He pulled the knife out, stepping back, and stared at the man then fell to the ground. Quigley took in a slow, scared breath, and then dropped the knife.

“Quigley, no, run!” Bertrand screamed.

“Quigley!” Beatrice cried.

Quigley stumbled back, shaking uncontrollably as some kind of panic attack set in. He looked down at the ground, where the Bald Man had fallen, and where the knife had fallen, and where there was a small puddle of blood, and then he screamed, throwing his hands over his face, and fell back.

Bertrand felt a needle jabbed into his arm again- no, no, no…

“Quigley!”

“Quigley, run!” Beatrice screamed, and Bertrand could see, out of the corner of his eye, her getting jabbed, too. They couldn’t pass out now, they couldn’t get knocked out now, Quigley needed them to-

Olaf ran behind Quigley, staring down at his henchperson, and then he lifted Quigley up by the hair, stared him in the eye, and then slammed him back into the ground. Bertrand and Beatrice screamed, but Quigley could do nothing but cry.

The last thing Bertrand saw before passing out again, no matter how much he tried to fight the drugs coursing through his veins, was the look of terror in Quigley’s eyes.

#asoue #asoue netflix #a series of unfortunate events #asoue au #runaway baudelaires au #all those things they couldn't say #asoue fanfiction #my fanfic #mine

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staytheb · 4 years

Text

Because I Can

Pairing: NCT’s Yuta x OC [Genevy] Genre: slice of life, slight fluff Word Count: 3,791 Summary: Genevy kinda wants to avoid Yuta, but he ain’t having it.

Warning: none, except a few swear words... not sure really

hello! so this has been in one of my drafts for a long story, but i can’t really seem to write that story and just took this piece out of it and sharing it as a one-shot. as for the title, i didn’t know what to title it as and just took it from somewhere in the story as i found it fitting or something like that. anyways, this is more of a distraction to keep my mind occupy as i really don’t wanna write something new, but then again wanting to share something at least. the new year isn’t starting out as nicely as i want it to be and hope this would help relieve my mental stress from work and what not. anyways, this was partly inspired by a scene from the Chinese drama I Hear You and i really liked it a lot for some odd reason xD but anyways, Yuta fit and so here it is. so yeah, happy reading and kthxbai, Admin Lia~

Genevy attended her friend, Skyler's, get-together after much persuasion from their other friends. She just didn't expect to see her co-worker, Yuta, there along with others whom were invited by Skyler. She didn't stay long and left as soon as possible. Genevy also didn't expect for Yuta to chase after her.

"Genevy!" Yuta called after her.

"Crap." Genevy muttered to herself as she picked up her pace. "I swear Skyler is always trying to play matchmaker."

The get-together happened to be at a karaoke bar and instead of a girls' night out, it was more like a group date with Skyler as hostess. She had also invited a few of her male friends from her masquerade themed birthday party a few weeks ago that Genevy had attended. During that time, Genevy somehow made an impression on Yuta when the two had been chosen to do some waltz thanks to Skyler. Still though, Genevy had no idea that Skyler's friend Yuta was the same as her co-worker Yuta. It made things kinda awkward at work although Genevy was the only one that knew Yuta behind his mask, but he kinda didn't know about her.

"Genevy!" Yuta called out again.

Genevy hurried down the zig-zag of a hallway, passed the front desk, and out the doors into the cool night air. Without hesitation Genevy made a quick right and took off in that direction towards a 7-Eleven as she wanted to make a quick pit-stop before heading home. Anyways, Genevy assumed she was in the clear and slowed down her steps and let her guard down, but she suddenly felt a rough tug from behind due to someone pulling on the strap of her bag. It prevented her from taking another step forward and guard went back up. Genevy tentatively took a glance over her shoulder and saw that it was Yuta as he shot her a sweet smile.

"Hi." He greeted her brightly with a wave, but still kept a hold of the strap. "This is a really nice bag, especially of the Rilakkuma on it."

"Um, yeah thanks."

Genevy tried to tug her bag from out of his grip, but Yuta held onto the pink strap firmly.

"This looks awfully familiar from a few weeks ago."

"Right. I'm sure others have the same thing."

"Mmhmm." Yuta hummed, but continued to gaze sweetly at Genevy.

"So, why did you leave so early? You only sang once."

"Yeah, karaoke isn't my thing. That's more of Skyler and Katherine's thing. Esther, Jasmine, and Everly convinced me to come."

"Oh, so you didn't want to come in the first place?"

"Well, not really. It was supposed to be a girls' night out, but Skyler just had to do whatever it is that she always does."

Genevy answered as she tried again to get her bag out of Yuta's grip, but she failed again.

"Is there a reason why you're keeping me here and not letting me go?"

Yuta smiled with a nod.

"Yeah."

"Which is?"

Yuta fingered the pink strap with a playful smile upon his face. Genevy had a feeling that what happened at Skyler's masquerade birthday party was gonna come up.

"Shall we dance?"

At first Genevy was confused until it clicked that Yuta was referencing to the song that they had danced to at Skyler's party. Now she really wanted to escape.

"I, um, yeah, no."

She twirled around to jerk her bag from out of Yuta's grasp, but in the process she had misstep breaking one of her low heels. While trying to correct her steps she ended up stumbling backwards and landed on her butt. Yuta watched all of this go down with a shocked yet amused expression. He suppressed a laugh while turning his head the other way so that she wouldn't notice him laughing at her misfortune as she stood back up. He didn't mean to, but he had to admit that it was kinda funny in its own way.

Anyways, Genevy let out an inaudible sound upon realizing her situation in the middle of Hongdae's streets during the night time and with her co-worker. She let out a deep sigh while picking up the broken piece of the heel with her left hand. She knew she shouldn't have listened to Skyler and the other girls in wearing the heels. It really wasn't her thing, but she assumed it was all for a fun night out that it was okay to just deal with it. Now she had to deal with Yuta and a broken heel. She avoided looking at Yuta feeling even more embarrassed about it all and turned away to walk off. Yuta noticed and called out to her once again.

"Hey, Genevy, wait up."

He ran to catch up to her and moved to block her path with a charming smile. Genevy just stare at him before casting him a suspicious look when he turned around with his back facing her, squatted down, and held out his hands in a way for her to get on his back while glancing over his shoulder at her with a warm smile.

"Um, what are you doing?"

She questioned him while he answered her with an obvious tone.

"Giving you a piggyback ride."

"Why?"

"Because you can't walk around like that."

"I'm fine, Yuta. I just need to get to a shoe store and buy new ones."

"I'll take you there by carrying you then."

"Uh, no thanks."

She awkwardly walked around him due to the unevenness of the heels and continued to her previous destination like nothing was wrong. Yuta once again blocked her path and offered his back towards her once more. Genevy ignored his offered once more by walking pass him again. Just as she thought that he had gotten the hint that she wasn't interested she suddenly felt a hand wrap around her forearm and swung her around to come face to face with a not amused Yuta.

Just as she was about to say something she caught the smirk that immediately appeared upon his face before he crouched down and lifted up her left foot to quickly remove the broken heel shoe from it. After doing so, Yuta stood up right again and casually tossed the damaged heel into a nearby trashcan. His attention returned to Genevy with a satisfied grin gracing his lips. Genevy's jaws dropped at what he did as she was unable to form any words to say anything.

"Okay, now you're left with no choice, but to accept my piggyback ride." Yuta informed her as he sat on his heels with his back offered to her once again.

Genevy pushed him away from her.

"No way. You took my shoe and just threw it away without my permission."

"I'll buy you a new pair."

"There's no reason for you to buy me a new pair."

Yuta let out an annoyed sigh as he swiftly turned around and lifted up her right foot to remove the regular heel from there as well. He stood back up and once again tossed it into the same trashcan like he did the other half. Yuta cast her a a smug smile as Genevy stared at him with her jaw slightly dropped.

"Now there's a reason for me to buy you a new one."

"I can't believe you just did that."

Genevy tossed the broken heel piece at him out of frustration which didn't phase Yuta at all as the small item fell to the concrete floor.

"Why would you even do something like that?"

"Because I can. Now," He gazed at her with a mischievous smirk, "Do you want a piggyback ride or should I carry you bridal style? Your call."

~~~~~~~

"Could, you, like, change, the, way, your, hands, are, placed, around, my, neck?"

Yuta struggled in-between breaths due to the way Genevy's grip was around his neck as she relented in the male to give her a piggyback ride instead of being held bridal style. Also, she didn't want to be too close and opted for a weird position leaving her to unintentionally choke the male as he carried her on his back. Genevy re-positioned herself so that she was slightly leaning forward with her arms draped over his shoulders instead of her hands around his neck. Yuta craned his neck from side to side now that he could breathed properly. His ears perked up when he heard singing coming from his left side.

~Actually, I just want a moment beyond the future, I feel so lonely when I'm dying to see you~

Although having heard Yuta suggest the new position, Genevy was still lost in her own thoughts not really caring about her current situation. To distract herself from being in this situation in the first place and this close to Yuta, she had unconsciously sang out loud her favorite part to the song of Flower's Crimson Dress that's been stuck in her head for a month or so now since it's release.

~Loneliness becomes more painful with a cold and chilling night life, my tears flow through my deep darkness~

She continued not realizing that Yuta could hear her, especially when he was able to actually understand the lyrics. At first he had thought Genevy was maybe trying to communicate with him in some sort of way of hers, but realized that she wasn't even focusing on him when he questioningly called out her name.

"Genevy?"

Genevy continued on with her singing as her eyes stared ahead of her without much focus.

~Actually, I would be with you at any time no matter what, I would like to hurt you while I'm crying alone~

Yuta stayed quiet after Genevy gave him no response. So he didn't bother mentioning to her that he could hear her actually singing. He didn't mind and quite like her voice since witnessing her vocal skills earlier that night. Also, Yuta was curious as to why Genevy was randomly singing in the first place and why was she singing a Japanese song, too.

~This way I will not be able to fall in love... I do not want an unsatisfied love, I just want to keep watching you wandering in the moonlight~

When he assumed that Genevy had finished singing and was going to compliment her, but held in a laugh when she suddenly changed into another song which was completely and totally different from the one she was singing earlier.

~See the light as it shines on the sea, it's blinding, but no one knows, how deep it goes~

Genevy suddenly switched to How Far I'll Go by Auli'i Cravalho out of the blue and she wasn't even sure how this song popped up, but she just went with it.

~And it seems like it's calling out to me, so come find me, and let me know, what's be~

Genevy abruptly stops wondering why she was even singing this song when she became aware of her own situation.

"Why am I'm singing this?" She muttered to herself before coming back to her senses upon hearing Yuta laughing loudly.

"I wasn't singing out loud, was I?"

"I think you should sing out loud more often." Yuta answered nonchalantly.

"It was a simple yes or no question, Yuta."

"Wasn't my answer obvious enough, Genevy."

"Do you want me to choke you again?"

"Ohh, kinky." Yuta teased in a playful tone. "But I would prefer to be the one to do the choking."

Genevy ended up tightening her grip around the male's neck to choke him upon being flustered upon hearing his response.

"Why would you say something like that when we're not even that close or in that type of relationship?"

Yuta stopped walking while stretching his neck to ease Genevy's grip from around it.

"I. Can't. Breathe."

His voice strained out due to the lack of oxygen. Genevy reluctantly eased her hold from around his neck. Yuta inhaled and exhaled loudly. Genevy rolled her eyes as she pushed his shoulders out of restlessness.

"Okay, you can just set me down here. I'll just walk barefoot on my own."

Once Yuta recovered he glanced over his shoulder and up at Genevy with a puzzled expression.

"Now why would I wanna go and do that?"

"Because I said so."

"And I say no."

"Why are you being so weird and difficult? You never act like this with me at work."

"Because I can." He answered and left it at that.

Yuta continued walking like nothing had happened with Genevy still upon his back. She almost gave him another choke-hold out being annoyed with his behavior which frustrated her, but refrain from doing so not wanting to be an actual murderer. She let out a controlled breath before speaking in a calmer manner.

"Fine. Once I buy me new shoes we can part and not see each other for the rest of the night."

~~~~~~~

"We just passed the seven-eleven. Where are you taking me?" Genevy asked Yuta while staring behind her at the place she had originally wanted to go to before the encounter with the said boy.

"Um, obviously to a shoe store." Yuta stated with a pointed tone. "Why would I take you to a seven-eleven?"

"Because that's where I wanted to go to in the first place."

"And how was I supposed to know that?"

"You weren't." Genevy clarified, but then wanted to remind him of their current situation. "You weren't even supposed to be with me right now."

Yuta chuckled.

"Well, too bad. I'm already here."

"Well, yeah if you didn't come chasing me for some reason."

"I didn't chase you."

"I'm pretty sure you were."

Yuta didn't say anything and Genevy took his silence as a means of a confirmation of defeat. She smiled although she was getting tired of her situation, especially when people were staring. Some awed like they were a couple while others gave disapproving looks. She didn't care either way, but it was the fact that Yuta wouldn't just let her walk on her own even if he was the cause of it in the first place.

"Look, Yuta, just take me to the Hongik University Station and I'll just go home from there. I'm not gonna buy new shoes. I'm tired and want to sleep."

She then unconsciously massaged his shoulders.

"And I'm sure your back and legs are aching from carrying me, too."

"You're right. You are pretty heavy." Yuta teased as a laugh followed after.

Genevy rolled her eyes as she stopped massaging his shoulders and softly punched-tapped them instead.

"I didn't make you carry me you asshole. That's all on you."

"Ah. Ah. Ah."

Yuta winced as he tried to shy away, but that barely did anything. Genevy stopped her antics and just slumped against Yuta's back in defeat. She let out a sigh as she rested her head against the back of his and watched the night time scenery pass her by. Totally zoning out, Genevy didn't notice Yuta walking up to a Starbucks and led them inside. It wasn't until she heard the scraping sound of a chair being pulled against a surface that she realized they were inside and not outside.

Before she could ask him what they were doing here, Yuta had gently set her down on the chair and walked off to the counter with a casual glance behind him before shifting it forward again. Feeling a bit self-conscious that she wasn't wearing any footwear and knew that her feet were gonna get cold, Genevy eventually sat cross-legged on her chair to hide that fact while clutching the strap of her Rilakkuma bag. Genevy also sat facing away from the counter, away from Yuta's back, and focused her attention to the wall she was looking at now. It wasn't that interesting.

Genevy wasn't sure if she should just ditch Yuta here and make a run for it to head on home on her own even if she had to do it barefooted. Then again she didn't want to be like that since so far their interactions has been kinda okay although weird as well. Genevy just wasn't sure how to react around him knowing that she knew more than he actually did of the night at Skyler's party. So instead of escaping she folded her forearms across one another and rested her head against them. Today's been too eventful and she just wanted to crawl into bed and just let it all fade away until she would have to face Yuta again at work tomorrow.

Her head jerked up a few minutes later when she felt something cold brush against her arm. Yuta let out a soft laugh at her reaction and Genevy scowled at him too tired to respond to his little antic. The scowl became one of puzzlement when Yuta set the drink he had used to wake her in front of her and took the seat across from her with his own drink in hand. He quirked a brow at her while taking a sip of his own drink to indicate for her to take the offered drink.

She averted her gaze awkwardly and stared at the drink cautiously before tentatively taking it in-between her hands. Genevy played with the item as she batted it left and right within her grasp while biting her bottom inner cheek. Luckily, it was closed, but still it was just to keep her hands busy and attention away from the male in front of her. She wondered what to do or say as her gaze unconsciously met the male's across from her like he was waiting for something to happen.

"Thanks." Genevy thanked him quickly before taking a sip of the drink, but made a face upon remembering that she really disliked the taste of anything coffee-related.

She really just wanted something to drink and to distract herself from Yuta sitting across from her, but didn't think her taste-buds would disagree with her about that. Yuta was about to brush off her gratitude, but noticed the facial expression she had made after taking a sip of the iced americano.

"Do you not like it?"

"No, it's fine."

Genevy feigned a smile as she took another sip, but her face betrayed her a second later when she struggled to swallow down the bitter liquid.

"Hey, Genevy, if you don-"

"No, no. It's okay, Yuta." Genevy interrupted him while reassuring that it was alright. "You already paid for it so thank you."

Before Yuta could even counter her words he just watched in amazement as Genevy had just finished the drink in a matter of seconds. Genevy had sucked the whole thing in her third attempt of drinking the iced americano. Genevy tried to control her expression, but the taste really prevented her from staying neutral as much as possible. She knew she hated this kind of taste, but she didn't want to make Yuta feel bad or have the item go to waste. She then opened the lid from the cup and put the rim of the cup to her mouth as to pour an ice cube into her mouth to rid of the coffee taste from her tongue.

"You didn't have to drink it if you don't like it." Yuta informed her after taking a sip of his own. "I could have bought you something else of your own liking."

"You don't have to buy me anything, Yuta. Really." Genevy said as she swish the ice cube from one side of her cheek to the other before casting him a thankful smile. "But thank you for the thoughtfulness though."

After saying that Genevy tilted her head in confusion upon seeing Yuta turn away with a soft giggle before gazing back at her and winked. He then averted eye-contact and she wasn't sure what to make of it. At first Genevy was gonna comment on it, but refrain from doing so. The less she knew, the better.

"Anyways," Yuta began trying to make conversation, "How long are you gonna hide the fact that you were the one I danced with at Skyler's masquerade party?"

Genevy stopped playing with the cup and stared at Yuta in surprised.

"Wait. When did you find out?"

"I'm not dumb."

"I didn't say you were, but you never said anything until now. Why?"

"I recognized your pink bag." Yuta admitted.

Genevy gazed at the pink item and inwardly groaned at the sight of it. She had forgotten that she wore the item that night at Skyler's party and again tonight. Genevy now recalled that she had also brought the small bag to work a few times over the years as well.

"Okay, so now you know. So what now?"

"Let's go to Seoul Land tomorrow after work."

Genevy gave him a hard look as Yuta stared right back at her, but with a gentler expression.

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"I am."

"We're co-workers so we can't date because everyone at work would know."

"Well, us dating doesn't concern any one else, but you and I. So why does it matter if they know or not?"

"Yeah, but you always like messing with me at work."

"But have I ever made you feel badly about yourself or even talked down to you when I've messed with you."

"No.You're actually quite supportive and encouraging when you do it." Genevy answered honestly. "But how come you don't do it to the other girls at work?"

"Because I don't like them like I like you."

"Is that a confession?"

"Genevy," Yuta reached out a hand and placed it atop hers, "I may act like a bad boy, but I'm no jerk."

"I don't think that answered my question."

"Yes, it's a confession. Now, are we gonna go to Seoul Land or not?"

"Um," Genevy stalled just to mess with him back as she was still feeling slightly flustered by this whole thing, "I'll think about it."

"If I carry you bridal style, then will you think faster?"

Yuta was about to make it look like he was about to do the action, but Genevy didn't want him to and quickly gave him his answer.

"Yes, Yuta. I'll go to Seoul Land with you after work tomorrow."

Yuta happily laughed as he squeezed her hand in an affectionate manner.

"Wow, Skyler was right. You do play hard to get."

Genevy was about to counter, but thought better of it.

"Whatever. One date, Yuta, and we shall see how it'll go."

Yuta just nodded with a satisfied smile as he took another sip of his drink before speaking.

"So, should I take you shoe shopping or to the subway station?"

#staytheb #nct scenarios #nakamoto yuta #nct u #nct 127

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buckychristwrites · 6 years

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Poison Me | OS | b.b.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The only two Bucky’s that you knew were tense, PTSD ridden Bucky and stoned, relaxed, clear headed Bucky. So you weren’t exactly sure what you were getting when you put stoned Bucky together with newly rediscovered drunk Bucky.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: angsty with dashes of fluff

A/N: This is my entry for @bucky-at-bedtime‘s Marvelous Marvel Writing Extravaganza! Thank you to Jess for letting me participate! My prompt was “It’s probably 4:20 somewhere.” Hope you enjoy :)

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Your fingers rapped against the armrest of the passenger seat. The clock read a quarter past eleven. You picked up your phone to confirm you read the text correctly. And sure enough, you did.

The van. Ten minutes.

Sent twenty minutes ago.

Head falling on your shoulder, you stared out into the almost empty parking garage. You had half a mind to go back inside. It was a cold evening nearing the end of autumn, and you had been curled up under your blankets watching movies when you got the text. But you knew he would show up. He always did for this.

In the distance, you caught sight of a silhouette walking towards you. The body was huge, slightly stumbling from side to side in almost a zig zag fashion. Instinctively, you locked the car doors. It wasn’t until the figure got closer and closer to your car that you remembered that the parking garage was private and no one could just wander in. The light hit their face, revealing them, and you sighed in relief.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You asked as you rolled down the driver’s side window and leaned across the seat. Bucky shot you a dorky smile as he approached the car, ramming into the front as he maneuvered to the passenger side where you sat and opening the door.

“You gotta drive.” His words were slurred, his cheeks flushed red. You stared at him for a moment in silence before it finally hit you.

“Are you...Bucky are you drunk?” A loud laugh exploded out of him, the sound contagious as you began to laugh with him.

“Odinson has this shit from Ass guard and it’s fucking strong,” Bucky said as he came down from his fit of laughter. “I haven’t felt like this in a while.” Your mouth was open as you watched him, shaking your head.

“So your first instinct when getting drunk for the first time in almost seventy years is to get cross faded?” He shrugged simply, before his hands found your side and he began to gently push you towards the driver’s seat. Rolling your eyes, you climbed over the center console and settled behind the wheel. Bucky turned completely around and set his butt on the seat, swiveling around so his legs were in the car and closing the door behind him. After securing his seatbelt, he leaned his back against the window, shooting you a smile.

“We going or what?” You huffed, turning the car on and pulling out of the parking spot. You were thankful for the light evening traffic as you pulled out of the parking lot. It would be even lighter when the two of you decided to return. A minute or so had past before you looked at Bucky, speaking again.

“So when did you start hanging out with Thor?” You asked. Bucky wasted no time in his response.

“When he said he could hold his superhuman alcohol better than me.” You bit your lip to hold back a laugh. Part of you wished you were there for that conversation, along with the sight of watching the two of them chug down pints of alcohol until one was too inebriated to continue. You made a mental note to ask Steve later if there were any videos.

“And who won?” This time, Bucky hesitated, instead laughing to himself for a few moments. That reaction in itself gave you your answer.

“He did,” He finally admitted. Turning to look at him, your jaw dropped open. He clicked his tongue. “I only had about seven or eight before I had to stop. But that godly man just kept going!” You let out an audible gasp.

“Awww, Bucky! You’re a lightweight now!” The appalled look on his face made you laugh harder than you already were.

“I am not!”

“You absolutely are!” You were trying and failing to hold back your fits of laughter, but it was hard when they only seemed to offend him more.

“You take that back,” He gasped. You only shook your head in response.

“Nope, you’re a fucking lightweight.” You were laughing harder now, mainly because the offense on his face kept getting worse and worse. “Mr. Beefy Super Soldier can’t even hold his Asgardian Meade. What kind of world do we live in?”

Bucky pouted the rest of the drive. Occasionally, you heard him mumbling under his breath, but he was talking so quietly, and his words were so slurred, that you couldn’t make out exactly what it was he was saying. By the time you pulled into the parking lot of the familiar park, he was able to look at you again, implying that either he had forgiven you, or he forgot. Not wanting to ask in fear it would offend him again, you decided to accept that it was the latter. As you put the van in park and cut the engine, he grabbed the rolling plate from under your seat.

“Maybe I should do it,” You suggested, reaching for the plate, but he shooed your hand away..

“I got it, I got it!” He insisted, stuffing his hand in his pocket and pulling out a plastic baggie of weed and his grinder. You shrugged, leaning your back against the door to watch him.

“Better not fuck it up because I didn’t bring any of mine.” He scrunched up his face and began to move his lips in a mocking fashion, making you laugh despite yourself. Being drunk brought out a side to Bucky you rarely saw. It was very different than when he was high.

Looking out the windshield, you stared at the dark, abandoned park. Besides the swings that rocked back and forth from the wind, the park was at a standstill. Part of you was surprised there wasn’t more people around doing the same thing Bucky and you were doing.

“I feel like a high schooler,” You quipped. “Smoking pot in the park to hide it from my parents.” When you looked over, Bucky was carefully filling the blunt paper with grinded weed, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration. He was going slower than normal, and you knew it was because of his drunken state.

“Well, that’s your fault, isn’t it?” You rose an eyebrow at his remark.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” It came out more defensive than you meant it to.

“All I’m saying,” Bucky said, laughing as he rolled the blunt paper over the plate in his lap. “Is that it’s your fault we can’t smoke in the parking garage anymore.” You gasped in faux surprise as you chucked the now empty plastic baggie in his face.

“How is it my fault?” You demanded as he continued to laugh. “I’ve done nothing wrong in my entire life.” He snorted, leaning forward and pressing his chin into his chest as he laughed.

“Tell that to Mr. Stark when he caught you smoking a bowl that one time and suddenly banned us from smoking in the garage a day later,” He reminded you. You huffed.

“The one fucking time he decides to take a ‘leisurely drive’ at ten at night.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m pretty sure he suspected we were doing it and was just waiting to bust us.” Bucky nodded as he brought the joint to his mouth, licking the paper. “I don’t understand the big deal. It’s just pot.” Bucky shrugged as he put a filter on the end.

“He said something to me about wanting us to air out before coming into the compound.” He put the blunt between his teeth. “I don’t think he genuinely cares that we’re doing it. Just doesn’t want us stinking up the place.” Sighing, you stared at the fat blunt in Bucky’s mouth. It was so big, it almost seemed like it was two joints rolled into one.

“Just fucking kill us, why don’t you?” You teased as he ignored you, throwing the car door open and letting himself out. You followed suit, immediately seeing your breath as you exited the car. Suddenly you were grateful for the hoodie you almost didn’t wear. Bucky stumbled to the swing set, flopping down on one so hard that if he hadn’t caught himself on the chains, he certainly would’ve fallen backward. It took a few more seconds before you finally reached the swing set, taking a seat on the swing next to him. He rose the blunt to you.

“It’s probably 4:20 somewhere,” He said before putting the blunt back in his mouth and grabbing his lighter from his pocket. You checked your phone.

“It’s 11:33,” You informed him. He flicked the lighter on, the flame leaving a glow on his face.

“I said it was 4:20 somewhere, not here,” He slurred through clenched teeth before pulling the lighter away and taking a long drag of the blunt.

“It’s not gonna be 4:20 anywhere for another forty seven minutes.”

“Fuck off.” Puffs of smoke left his mouth when he spoke.

You smiled at him innocently as he handed you the joint with a slight glare. It was clear as you took it that he was trying to bite back a smile. Putting the blunt in your mouth, you inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill your lungs, and held it for a few seconds before breathing it out again, watching the smoke dissipate in the cool evening air.

“So how does it feel to be drunk again?” You asked, eyeing Bucky as you took another small drag. He shrugged.

“Not much to celebrate.” There was something about his tone that sounded off. He looked down at his lap. “Just add it to the list.” You gave him a look as you passed him the blunt, him taking it without looking at you.

“What list?” He laughed slightly.

“The list on why I’m a poison to this place.” Confusion flooded you as you watched him.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You asked, moving your head to meet his line of sight. “You’re not a poison at all. Who told yo-“

“I used to be an alcoholic when I was in the army, did you know that?” He spoke as if you never had. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Eyes finding you again, he laughed at your facial expression. “Yeah. After Steve rescued me, I started drinking. And man did I fucking drink. The only time I wasn’t drunk was when I was on missions. Now I can just jump on that train again.” He stared at his lap for a minute before he let out a random laugh. “Funny. Jumping on the train instead of falling off.” He looked at you as he laughed, tears filling his eyes, and you had no idea if it was from the laughter or from the sadness.

“You’re not the same person you were before the war,” You reminded him. “Sure you’ve been through hell and back since, but you’re stronger now. You’re not necessarily going to fall into the same habits.” He shook his head as he blew out a long stream of smoke, passing you the blunt.

“You never know.” He wouldn’t look at you, just holding out the burning joint. You stared at him for a few seconds before finally taking it from him, flicking off the ashes and taking a long breath of it.

“Why do you think you’re poison, Bucky?” You asked before emptying your lungs of the smoke. He chuckled, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

“All I ever do is burden people.” He paused to look up at the sky. His movements were were less calculated as before, letting you know that the effects of the marijuana were hitting him. “Hell, the reason the Avengers split up all those years ago was because of me.” You immediately shook your head, feeling how light it was.

“That was because Steve and Tony were both wrong and wouldn’t admit it,” You told him. “It was going to happen whether you were involved or not. And they worked their shit out, so it doesn’t matter anymore.” Your body began to feel weightless, and it was your favorite part of the high. “And you’re not a burden. You never have been.” He shrugged as you took another drag and handed it to him.

“Everyone on the team is always walking on eggshells with me.” He put the blunt in his mouth and inhaled deeply, exhaling the smoke out before speaking again. “Even with the Hydra in me gone, they still act like I’m a threat. Sometimes I wonder if it would be easier if I wasn’t around.” You shook your head as you snatched the joint from his hand.

“It would absolutely not be easier or better if you weren’t around,” You said defensively. “Who else would I smoke with? Steve?” The two of you laughed at the mere thought of it. “But in all seriousness, you’re important too. You’re absolutely not a poison to this team.” The two of you were quiet for a while as you filled your lungs with more smoke, the blunt now well over halfway gone. A thought crossed your mind, and you voiced it before you could stop yourself. “Even if you were anything, I don’t even think poison would be the right word for it.” Bucky eyed you.

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” You paused to think of how to word your thoughts. “Poison means if someone bites you, they die. But venomous means if you bite someone, they die. So it would depend on how you think about it.” Bucky’s face contoured in thought.

“I mean.” Pause. “I guess I could be considered venomous because by me being on the team, I’m biting everyone in the ass…?” Throwing your head back, you laughed so hard that your stomach began to hurt. After a second, Bucky joined you.

“But then!” You exclaimed suddenly, sitting forward in seriousness. “There’s poisonous gas, which is in the air. So you could be saying that your mere presence is poisoning the air.” Bucky nodded in understanding as he took the joint from your hand.

“It could be that too,” He agreed. You watched him in silence as he took another long hit of the blunt, now only a small stub remaining. No words left your mouth until his eyes found yours again.

“But you’re none of those things.” The gentle tone of your voice made a sad expression wash over Bucky’s face. You leaned closer to him. “I was this close…” You rose your hand up, leaving a teeny tiny space between your index finger and thumb. “This close to leaving the team before you joined.” Dropping your hand back to your lap, you smiled softly at him. “You bring something special to the team, whether you see it or not. You’re not a burden. You’re not a poison. Or venomous. Everyone loves you, Bucky. And even if they didn’t, I still wouldn’t ever wish you gone. I can’t imagine how my life would’ve turned out had you not become a part of it.” By the time you were done speaking, Bucky’s face had turned a deep shade of red. In lieu of a response, he turned away and took the last hit of the blunt before throwing it in the wooden chips on the ground and crushing it out with the bottom of his shoe.

“You ready to go?” He asked, his eyes shy as they looked at you. Part of you felt disappointed that it was over, but the conversation left you feeling more drained and anxious than relaxed.

“Whenever you are.” He nodded, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked to the dark grey van. Sauntering behind, you tried not to watch his receding back while his words echoed in the back of your mind.

The smell of coffee greeted you the next morning as you entered the kitchen. Pouring yourself a mug, you yawned. Despite your sleeping methods that usually helped, you only got a little over three hours of rest. As hard as you had tried, your body was too awake, your brain too wired.

As you walked through the living room, you caught a whiff of a familiar scent, leading you towards the balcony. A giant body was leaning over the railing, a stream of smoke rising from his hand. As quiet as you could, you let yourself out, your bare feet quiet as they padded across the cement.

“Stark is gonna kill you.” He didn’t react, as if he had been expecting your arrival. And knowing the friendship you shared with him, he probably was expecting you to show up at some point. As you took place next to him, he shrugged.

“He’s not here,” He informed you. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him. Besides…” He paused to rub his eye with his fist. “I needed it for this hangover.” You huffed.

“Like I said,” You told him, shaking your head as he turned to look at you. “Can’t handle your asgardian liquor.” He scoffed.

“Fuck off.” You laughed, glancing up at him. Even in the overcast, he still had this shine to him that you could never fully understand.

“So how much of last night do you remember?” You asked him.

“Oh I remember most of it,” He told you. “Things get fuzzy after our conversation about poisonous versus venomous.” You nodded, looking back out over the city below.

“We got back home and I helped you up to the tower,” You recalled. “You insisted that you were okay to use the stairs and then you tripped on them twice and fell completely down them once.” Bucky covered his face in embarrassment. “You told Natasha that you never thought her red hair looked real and asked who did it for her. Then you told Thor you wanted a rematch one of these days. And then I got you to your room in time for you to pass out on top of your covers. Clothes still on and all.” His body shook with laughter.

“Can’t believe Natasha is gonna kill me,” He said between his fingers as you laughed.

“Yeah she was pretty pissed.”

He was quiet, just shaking his head at himself. A breeze passed by the two of you, making his hair glow with it. He took a drag of the blunt, exhaling the smoke. Though he tried offering it to you, you politely declined.

“I’m sorry that I unloaded all of that on you.” When you looked at him, he was no longer covering his face, now just staring over the horizon. His eyes looked sad as his lips were pressed together. “I didn’t mean to get like that.”

“Did you mean what you said, though?” You asked him. “That you think you’re a poison?” He took one last hit of the joint before flicking it over the side of the railing.

“I’ve been thinking it for a while,” He admitted, his voice small.

Everything that Bucky had been through crossed your mind. The war. Hydra. Being the Winter Soldier. Living with everything he had done. His PTSD was the whole reason he started to smoke. It was the only thing that relaxed both his body and mind. Sometimes when the two of you were together, he’d tell you that he wanted something more out of life besides being on the team and smoking pot in order to sleep. He wanted something to live for. To come home to.

Slowly, you reached out for him. Your fingers wrapped around his chin and turned him to look at you. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but you didn’t give him a chance to question it before your lips caught his. His body tensed, but then relaxed just as quick before his hands were on your hips. Your heart pounded as you ran your fingers through his hair. He tasted like toothpaste and pot, not the best combination, but somehow it was everything. When you pulled away, it felt like the warmth in your body had gone with him. His eyes searched yours, stunned. It was clear there was so much he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how to say any of it.

You would be lying if you said that you hadn’t been thinking about doing that almost the whole night prior. The only thing stopping you was that you wanted to make sure he remembered it.

“Well,” You whispered. “At least we know you’re not poisonous.” One soft smile later, you were turning away. You didn’t realize his hands were still on your hips until you felt them drop from your sides as you walked across the balcony. With your back towards him, you could no longer fight the smile that was playing at the corners of your mouth. Though you could feel Bucky’s eyes on your receding back, you didn’t turn around once as you let yourself back inside, your fingers touching your lips as they tried to grasp that his had just been there not even a moment before.

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