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mudhornchronicles · 3 years

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maroon | din djarin

gif posted by sledposting

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

warnings: all the fluff, soft!din but then i said sike... angst, mentions of death and violence, also mentions of... sexual encounters?

a/n: lowkey wanna make into a series, but idk if someone has done this. if so, i do apologize.

masterlist

“You best learn how to weave, girl. A husband wouldn’t be caught dead wearing tattered clothing, let alone a Mandalorian riduur.”

“You must wear much more layered clothing. A Mandalorian riduur wants a respectable woman at his side.”

“Learn these recipes and maybe you’ll find yourself a Mandalorian riduur.”

You’ve grown tired of hearing this every day, but you sit back and simply nod. Mandalore may have not been your birth planet, but they took care of you after your father and brother both fell valiantly in battle. You were on your own after that. Your mother was not a Mandalorian, she was originally from Naboo. When your father was called back to Mandalore to assist in the ceremonial trials, your mother decided it was time she left. She said she was promised a tranquil life with the clan of four on Naboo, but the creed had to be followed. You have not heard from her since you were 7 years old.

Now as you’ve come to an age of maturity, you were being trained to… be a wife?

You sat back and obeyed the elders wishes, but you knew that their rants were not true - not in the slightest. Your father never depended on your mother to do anything for him. Because of that, he taught you how to defend yourself and be independent. Although your father was devoted to The Way, he did not want you to swear the creed. Not because you were incapable, but because he did not want you to go through life with the restrictions that the creed entails. Even if you wanted to rebel against your loving father’s wishes, you were not able to be properly trained nor swear the creed at such a late age. So, you were content with being a member of the Mandalorian culture as a civilian.

You sat at a table that the elders reserved for the women who taught young ladies how to sew, heal, cook, and take care of the warriors in training. Whether it was a torn cape or a sparring injury, you were there to help. You always believed you didn’t need to be there as you already knew how to do it all, but the view made up for it. The table was set up on the outer boundaries of the sand pit they called a sparring arena. You got to see young Mandalorians train their bodies and minds by lessons taught by the elders. As many Mandalorians came and went, your eyes were always set on a specific foundling you met many years ago. You sympathized with that warrior when you first noticed his colored armor. You had a crafted bracelet in a similar color – a deep red, a maroon to be precise.

All Mandalorian armor was painted, but each general color had deeper meaning. For example, blue represented the reliability of the warrior, green represented duty, black represented justice, and grey or silver represented mourning.

Red represented the honoring of a parent or leader.

You watched as the two warriors, one in green armor and yours in the maroon, sparred while the other Mandalorians watched and rallied around their fighting brothers. After 10 minutes, the maroon pinned the green down and was declared the winner. The elders at your table clapped and you can’t help but smile and cheer along.

As the noise settles down, you ask to be excused from the table and wait for their approval. Once the oldest member examines your finished shawl, she excuses you for the day. You clean up your yarn and needles, place them and your newly knitted shawl in your basket, and thank them for the day’s lesson. You turn and notice the maroon armored figure standing with his brothers as a new pair of Mandalorians prepare for their turn at combat.

You walk over and stand next to him, basket in your left hand and proceed to place your right hand on his pauldron. He looks over at you and tilts his helmet as he acknowledges you. You mouth a simple hi and a small wave, not wanting to distract him from the scene in front of him.

“Hello, cyar’ika.”

You smile as he turns and holds your right hand in his left. “How was today’s lesson?”

You shrug, rolling your eyes and letting out a small laugh. “Oh you know, learning what I already know. The usual.”

He chuckles at your visible annoyance at the uniformed program you’re practically forced to attend. “Are you finished or are the elders letting you breathe?”

You just can’t help but always smile at every word that comes out of his mouth. “I’m very much finished for the day. Are you?”

“Yes, Paz and I were just asked to demonstrate a sparring technique. Would you like to go for a walk?”

You nod excitedly. He gives your hand a light squeeze and asks you to stay where you are. You watch him as he strides over to one of the elders watching over the training session to what you assume is asking for permission to leave. The elder simply nods and goes back to observing the trainees.

Your Mandalorian leads you to an escarpment not far from the main town – not far by speeder bike that is. You both called it our place. As far as you both knew, no one had known about the place. The ground is scattered with sand and cracks, but the pair are protected from unwanted visitors by an oddly bent acacia tree and nothing beats the view. The capital can be seen far out in the distance, seeming small and faded. You looked down from the cliff to the ground below. You took notice that the ground had small traces of grass while the trees began to dry and then to your luck, you spotted a strill dragging the corpse of a fanned rawl back to its pack.

You step back from the edge and walk back to the tree. Your beloved unclips his cape and places it on the ground for you both to sit on – despite your countless protest about getting it dirty and tears. He proceeds to take a seat in the middle of his cape and places his hands on your waist. You take the hint and take a seat on his lap. He wraps his arms around your body and lay on him and he leans back on the thick trunk of the tree.

You quietly stay like this for what feels like hours, just holding onto each other. You two rarely get alone time anymore as his training has begun to be much more advanced. More advanced means longer training hours and longer training hours mean less time with you. Mandalore has nineteen hour days and the elders now have him train for six which means you barely get to talk to him and he barely gets to breathe.

You change positions to lay on the ground with your head on his thighs. He starts to play with your hair, but suddenly lets the strand of hair go. He leans over to grab your hand. He begins to play with your fingers and places his palm straight onto yours just to feel how different his hands are from your own. He did always say he loved your hands – soft and caring.

He loves holding your hand. He loves caressing it. He loves playing with them. He loves how they look when in his.

When you’re in the safety of your home, he blindfolds you and loves it when you play with his hair.

When you make love, he loves when you run your hands down his chest and on his biceps as he thrusts up into you. He loves when you grip his arms while you’re riding him and he brings you close to euphoria or when his body is over yours and your hands press down on his back to beg for him to go deeper.

He’s gone a long time without having gentle hands touch him. You were the first person he let touch his bare hands since his parents died.

His helmet tilts over to you and you look up to him. He sits and stares at you and you unsuccessfully stifle a laugh. “What? Why are you staring at me?”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner kar’ta.” He says quietly. So quietly you feel as if it wasn’t meant for your ears.

You situate yourself onto your knees and cradle the side of his helmet in one hand and hold his own hand in the other. “I love you too, Din. More than anything in the entire galaxy.”

You’ve been in a romantic relationship with Din for five years and you’ve heard those words a total of seven times. You savor every time he speaks them as it sounds like utter bliss to you.

“Ner kar’ta, I- I’d like to gift something to you, but I must know something first.”

“You can ask me anything, cyare.”

“I know I don’t tend to express my feelings and you may be thinking this is going to be a negative talk, but I promise it’s not.”

“I know it isn’t, my love. Even if it was, you’re not going anywhere.”

He chuckles at this and he nods. You know this is serious when his visor isn’t on your face.

“Mesh’la… Do you wa- Are you sure you…” he stops and clears his throat. “Cyare, do you plan on wanting to be stay? With me? I know we never talked about this, but I just thought it was time to bring it up.”

“Are you asking me if I want to stay by your side for the rest of my life, Din?”

He nods.

“Din, love, of course I want to be with you. We’ve only touched the surface. There’s so much left to do. You still haven’t given me a piece of your armor, we haven’t done a riduurok, and we haven’t raised warriors! You aren’t getting rid of me!” you joke.

He stays silent and you begin to think you may have gone too far. He opens one of his pouches on his belt. Your mind is saying he pulled out the blindfold he always carries for you to kiss you, but your heart wishes it’s something else.

Your heart wins.

He offers you a necklace. It consists of a maroon colored beskar ring clinging to a chain – his beskar. Before he can say anything, you jump on him and wrap your arms around him. He laughs and gives you a squeeze.

“I had a speech prepared, but I’d be very happy if I didn’t have to read it,” he sarcastically says. You can’t stop the tears running down your cheeks as you shake your head while you tell him he doesn’t have to. You know what he’s going to say and you know he’s going to stutter and shake. You know how much he loves you. You don’t need to hear him say it as his actions spoke volumes.

“I knew you didn’t lose your buckle to Paz! You rather lose me than your armor!”

“Don’t be dramatic. I’d rather lose my sponsorship then you.”

You playfully shove him. “Di’kut.” You grab your drink from your basket and take a swig from the cold liquid.

“Cyar’ika, w- would you like to marry me? Right now?”

You almost choke. You look at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“Is it too soon?”

You shake you head. “No, no it’s been five years. The elders probably think we’re crazy.” You both share a laugh. “But, if you’re ready Din, then yes. I’d love to marry you right now.”

He stands and helps you up. He grabs the chained ring and places it around your neck. You look down and the ring falls beautifully next to the other necklace you wear, a nexu signet - your father’s clan. You reach up and bring his head down to yours as you connect your foreheads together. As Mandalorian culture states, the warrior must begin the riduurok and every phrase must be said by each to be vowed.

Din’s hands are shaking, you can feel them. He clears his voice, but it does little to stop it from cracking.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus d-dar’tome”

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome”

“M-Mhi me’dinui an”

“Mhi me’dinui an”

“mhi ba’juri ver-“

You feel his forehead leave yours and you open your eyes. You follow his gaze and your heart sinks. Far out in the distance you see imperial ships slowly coming through the clouds. You see bright red light coming from the capital and you begin to panic. You know he has to go fight. As much as you don’t want him to, there’s no debate.

You both run to collect everything. He stops to look at you.

“Ni ceta, ner kar’ta. I promise that I-“ you stop him and bring his forehead down again.

“It is your duty to Mandalore, Din. I know you’ll protect us and you’ll come back to me. Promise me you’ll fight with everything in you. I can’t lose you too.”

“I promise.”

With that you pack the speeder and ride back into town, although as the war begins, you wished you had just taken Din away and ran.

Blaster shot after blaster shot. Dead body after another. The cries of children and the screaming of mothers trying to find their babies.

You hear a Mandalorian usher women and children into life-ships, each with two Mandalorians escorts. You get rushed closer and closer to one when you catch Din in the corner of your eye.

You run to him as you hear your name being called out by the other women. Din sees you and tackles you down. He pins you against a wall yelling at you to get into a ship and go. You put your hands on each side of his helmet. Both of you are crying wishing this was only a nightmare.

“Din, please promise me you’ll find me. Promise me you’ll make it out of here and come back to me. I can’t live without you. Please promise me.”

His visor is trained on you as you hold onto each other tighter than ever. “I promise I’ll find you and when I do, we’ll properly marry and I’ll take you far away from here so we can start our own clan. Ner kar’ta, I promise you this with my entire being.”

A promise sealed with a keldabe kiss. He runs with you towards a ship. You both ask escorts where the ship is going. No one knows. You try running out of the ship, but Din only pushes you back in. You hear him tell you how much he loves you before he jumps off the ship right when the ramp starts to move. You sob as the ramp closes until the view of your maroon-clad love is completely gone.

Little did you know that the war zone you had just witnessed was the fall of Mandalore and the last time you’d see the love of your life for many years to come.

update (1.1.21): Part two to Maroon has been posted - Saguine

mando’a translations:

riduur = spouse, husband, wife, partner

cyar’ika = darling, sweetheart

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum = I love you

ner kar’ta = my heart

mesh’la = beautiful

riduurok = love bond, specifically between spouses - marriage agreement

cyare = beloved

di’kut = idiot

Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde. = We are one whether we are together or apart, we will share everything and we will raise our children as warriors.

ni ceta = i’m sorry

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian #star wars #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #maroon

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apexqueenie · 3 years

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The Blood King (Bakugou x Reader, Medieval AU) Ch 3

Synopsis: In fairytales, princesses like you got to marry handsome princes like your best friend Shoto, but you’re not living a fairytale. You find the harsh realities a punch to the face as you and Sho run away outside palace grounds and into the real world. But the harsh brings out the beautiful, and in your case, it took the form of the scarlet covered barbarian king, whose territory you disturbed.

A/N: AAAAAAAHHHHH, I'm so sorry this took so long! It may have a few mistakes cuz I added on to this after I finished homework sooooooooooo I'm usually half asleep by then. This one is sorta long, so yah, enjoy!

Warnings: Swearing, blood, violence

[Ch1]->[Ch2]->[Ch3]->[Ch4]->[Ch5]->[Ch6]

“SHO!!!” You scream, snapping your torso up from the bed you lay on.

Wait...A bed..?

Your brain just tripped over itself as the memories came flooding back to you. The forest, the attackers, the beast, and then...that man.

You clutched your forehead in pain. Where the hell were you?

You place a hand on the furry and weighted blanket that covers you. It was nice. Quite a bit warmer than the blankets you had at home-

You shook your head. If this is how distracted you get now, you must’ve hit it at some point. You look around the room you were in. It was nice and dimly lit due to closed curtains, but plain. All that filled the space were you, the bed, and a small wooden dresser to your left with a tall cup of water on top.

Water. Sweet, sweet water. You chugged it down, throat parched from the previous events. The cool refreshing liquid woke up some of your senses. Slowly, your grogginess was replaced with the soreness of your muscles. You started to regret sitting up so suddenly. The side you were kicked on started to throb more and more.

You look down at the side in pain, seeing that your blazer and dress were replaced with a simple white wrap skirt secured with a knot around your chest. You felt almost naked, cold too. Never have your arms, chest, and legs been as exposed as they are now. Even your long nightdress had sleeves.

But that wasn’t important. You were in this strange place, Sho is nowhere to be found, and your things are gone. You needed to know more. Now, you may have been overreacting a bit, but what’s the harm in coming prepared? You break the glass you drank from earlier, grabbing the biggest piece and tearing some of the fabric you were wearing to wrap around the shard for a handle. You didn’t know what to expect, but at least you had something to defend yourself with.

You held it in the front as you slowly pushed the creaky door open. You thought you were ready for anything, but you weren’t expecting to be atop a balcony overseeing a complex combination of treehouses, bridges, and grounded buildings all surrounded by stone walls, complete with archers in loose armor patrolling the top. It wasn’t like any of the armor your guards wore though. It consisted of metal, like the knights in your father’s army, but they also wore feathers, leather straps, and colorful face paint. If you had to guess, you were nowhere near your own kingdom. They kept watch of the forest while the rest of the citizens of this odd town bustle happily below. Adults traded and conversed with one another while the children played with balls or kites below. All of them wear similar outfits to yours, comfortable and with a closer connection to nature. Some women wore clay beads around their heads like crowns paired with bright, multi-layered dresses made of choppy fabric. Most men wore loose shirts, some went bare chested, all wore slightly baggy pants, usually with multiple belts. A stark contrast to the puffy floor length dresses and tight pants of your people.

So where exactly were you?

“Do you like the view?” a voice said behind you.

It made you jump, and instinctively, you turn to hold out the makeshift knife you temporarily forgot about. The man you pointed the sharp edge at yelped and held both hands up as he rounded the corner.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have sneaked up on ya.” he smiles sheepishly.

He was a red-headed man with spiky hair, a short vest, bandana, and baggy pants. Similar to the people below. From what you could see, no weapons. Still, you keep the blade pointed at his exposed torso. You’ve never killed anyone before, and the thought scares you, the overwhelming fear of being here in strange clothes scared you even more.

You take a step back, trying to distance yourself from the newcomer. “Who are you?”.

“Eijiro Kirishima, right hand man of King Bakugou. I’m glad to see you awake and well.” he says, not moving from his spot. “We’ve met before, your highness.”

“Huh?” You say, dumbfounded. You’ve never seen this man in your life. You would’ve known if you did, his face is...very memorable.

He pointed to the decently sized scar on his face. It traveled from his right corner of his lip and up to the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t bright red, but it still looked like it had only recently healed. A cut like that would’ve taken at least a week for it to stop being inflamed; you wondered how he’d gotten it or why he was pointing to it.

You shook your head, not understanding.

Kirishima chuckles nervously, “Well uh, it might be hard to explain, but uh first things first, I came here to check on you. How’s that rib feeling?”

“My rib? It...hurts a lot” you admit, lowering the glass shard. ‘Hurt’ was an understatement though, it felt like it was on fire. Your side throbbing painfully with each breath you took. Adrenaline could only mask it for so long.

He nods and slowly approaches you again, hands out where you could see them. “Let’s get you back in bed” he says, gently scooping the glass out of your hand and placing it in his back pocket.

Hesitantly, you complied, weary of the shard being in his possession. At least, he seemed like he didn’t want to kill you. You leaned back into bed, muscles screaming from the short encounter. It’s only now you truly realize the extent of your injuries. You hissed as Kirishima readjusted your pillow as best he could, shaking the bed a bit.

“Now that you’re awake, I’ll let Deku take a look at you. He’s our medicine man, or doctor if you like.” And with that, he walks out, closing the door behind him.

But you couldn’t stay still. Even though your ribs hurt, you couldn’t sit back and wait. If you’re being nursed here, Shoto must be nearby. And besides, they don’t want to hurt you, right? After all, as you hauled yourself up and headed to the door once more, you found it still unlocked. You weren’t their prisoner.

You took a peek around the corner that you saw Kirishima come around last time. It led to a free hanging wooden bridge to another tree. The other side of your cabin led to some steps that took a wide curve around a wooden pillar of some sort, but taking a look upwards only showed you that it wasn’t a pillar at all: It was an absolute unit of a tree. Incredibly thick, and at least 500 feet tall, the tree had stairs carved from all over its sides and bridges split off to smaller trees holding up houses. An even more intricate pattern of pathways sat above your head than what you saw the first time when you looked on the balcony.

You clutched the railings, making your way up the stairs and onto the first platform branching off into other paths. Your “room” was just a simple block, fitted halfway into the trunk of the big tree. Woven branches and leaves make a simple flat roof; not much different from any other building here. Guess you’re just gonna have to find someone who knows this place. Preferably not Kirishima. You had a feeling he’d just bring you back to your room.

You hauled yourself up more stairs, opting to take the paths closer to the tree. Traversing mazes was never your strong suit, and this place could get you lost in a few seconds.

The further you went along the stairs, the harder it was for you to breathe. Your injury was draining your energy fast, making your body feel like a thousand pounds. Maybe going back to bed wasn’t a bad idea at all.

Just as you were about to give up and sit down, you came across a wider bridge, one that was definitely a lot more extravagantly built than the last. Thicker, and with decorative railings. It was built between the tree itself and a large mountaintop so tall, you couldn’t see the top. The bridge extended in a T shape, the horizontal bit from the tree built to the length of one wall of the kingdom to another with stairs down to where the guards patrolled. At the smaller section of the T sat a huge double doorway, carved from the wood of the tree you’ve been climbing around for the past 10 minutes. It depicted battles, warriors wielding swords and fighting alongside winged beasts of enormous size...Dragons. Then it clicked. Kinda. You swung at that large beast before, at its snout right when it was right behind you. And Kirishima had a scar along his mouth and nose...

Kirishima = Dragon?

You shook your head, unable to fully convince yourself. It must be your pain fogging your mind a bit. You guess it was the same reason you were walking through those double doors. Big doors were the norm for you, being a princess after all. In your state of confusion, it’s better to go with more familiarity. You pulled it open with a bit of difficulty and slipped in as the doors slowly closed behind you without a sound. Just as you suspected, it was a grand hall for royalty that was almost as big as your father’s. The room was curved, thanks to the tree’s natural design. Flowered vines decorated the plain walls. An empty throne of wood and bones sat in front of what you thought must be the opening to the other side of the tree. You could see the sunshine bathe the throne in its gentle light.

You straightened your composure subconsciously, as you’ve been taught to in throne rooms like these, and walked to the throne. Bones and wood, delicately intertwined with one another to form a beautiful crest along the top of the backrest and pair of armrests. You dragged your fingers along the sanded wood gingerly, admiring the craftsmanship. Swords were stabbed in between, like trophies. Some chipped, others completely broken in half. All went through obvious signs of battle. Losing battles, that is. This was a throne for a King that should be feared. Unlike your father and birth giver’s thrones, which symbolized elegance and formality, this one was fierce, powerful, and dangerous. For some reason, your mind was reminded of the man with the Vermillion eyes. How he strode proudly with bold movements, the same way you’ve seen your father or King Enji act when confronted. Was he the one who owned this throne?

A few feet behind it were steps leading up to a large balcony, open to give an extraordinary view of the kingdom you saw before. You walked up the steps slowly, entranced by the calm sight of the sky and trees. A warm breeze lifted the stray hairs from your face, and you felt calm, your injuries temporarily forgotten. You thought you saw everything from the height you were at when you first woke up, well, you were a couple hundred feet higher now and so much more had been revealed. You could see the exact boundary of walls that protected the civilians, previously hidden by other trees. A huge, open gate on the other side of the kingdom guarded by tiny soldiers both on ground and up on the wall. The complex bridges you saw earlier seemed to build around this area so as to not obstruct the view. You dared not to go straight to the railings though, it felt out of place for you to be watching over someone else’s civilians. So just at the top of the stairs you stayed.

Along the sides of the extended walls where the stairs were built, hung swords of all shapes and sizes, snugly staggered amongst each other like decorations. Each one told a story, from the blade type down to the hilt decorations. You wonder who wielded each magnificent weapon. The man you fought had a sword worn down from no doubt years of battle, more so than any of these blades on the wall.

“I wonder where he is.” you spoke out loud.

“Where who is?” a gruff voice responded.

You froze in place.

Speak of the devil. There he was. He appeared around the left side of the throne, nonchalantly leaning an elbow above his head on it. He wore the same attire as before, cutlass hanging at his side- only this time, tribal beads and threaded teeth hung around his neck. The sunlight coming from the open spaces behind you revealed his hair to be golden, as well as uncovered the many battle scars that previously blended with his skin underneath the pale moonlight. He made your shrink a bit in his presence.

He cocked his head to one side, lifting an eyebrow at your staring. “Well?”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you forced yourself to say something. “Sorry, You, you’re..and then...Uh…” you managed to spit out, ears burning. You couldn’t look at him straight. He only narrowed his eyebrows in response. ‘Great job (y/n), he thinks you’re a moron now.’ you scold yourself.

“Maybe that shitty Deku got it wrong, and you’re the one with the concussion.” he scoffed.

“I have no such thing!” you blurted out. You tried to look him in the eyes again, but the dominance they radiated made you feel like a pup caught disobeying her master. But why? You’re royalty, a future Queen! You shouldn’t let the likes of him intimidate you like this!

So you stood up straight again, taking a deep breath and raising your chin to address the man in front of you properly. Your insides felt like they were being stabbed with a flaming rod, but you refused to succumb to it now. “I lost myself a bit there. I’ve come here for answers.” you say, clasping both hands together. “Where is the leader of this Kingdom?”

Unfazed by your new composure, he stared right back. “You’re lookin at him.”

“And your name?”

“Why does that matter?”

“It matters because I’d like to know to whom I’m speaking with.” you grit your teeth.

“Oh, and what gives you the right, little thief?” he says, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not a thief,” you growl, “I’m princess (y/n) of the Northern Kingdom, first and rightful heir to the throne. As a fellow royal, I deserve the right to know who you are.”

At your words, his body went rigid. “You deserve it, huh?” He moved from his spot at the throne, up the stairs towards you and towering over your figure. You shuffled backwards in alarm. “You, a Northern pansy with your tea parties, lazing around in your kingdom, not giving a damn about the ecosystem around you. You call that royalty?” He spat, raising his voice. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, physical heat, fueled by his anger. “Destroying more of my home to make room for your stupid roads. Killing my people’s food for sport and leaving the skinless carcass to rot so you could have your stupid exotic rugs- I’ve seen how much you people take for granted. If it weren’t for the size of your army, I would’ve conquered you assholes by now. Why did I even listen to that damn Kirishima, I should’ve left you and your boyfriend in the forest. At least you’d be useful for once-”

“Wait, I think you’re overreacting here, and he’s not-” you tried to reason, stumbling over your feet. You completely lost your composure now, your heart practically beating out of its chest.

“Or your brother, I don’t give a damn who he is, my people are running out of food because of yours- but I don’t think you ever knew, huh? Probably worried over some bullshit like what you’re gonna wear, or if some other pretty boy prince out there thought you were cute.” He continued. You back found the edge of the railing and you latched your hands onto it. Taking a quick glance backwards, you found the height a little terrifying now.

“Well, I’m over here hunting day and night to find meals and what do I get? Two more mouths to feed. Useless, pathetic weights on my back. If you wanna talk about being my fellow royal-”

“Bakugou, stop!” you hear Kirishima’s voice echo.

Kirishima. Oh thank god Kirishima is here.

The newly identified “Bakugou” snaps his head to the side at the voice. You look around Bakugou’s figure to see the redhead entering through the doorway, a stranger with green hair trailing behind him.

“You need to eat, Kachaan.” the stranger says. “We’re not starving, Denki found a whole new area with more game- but you can’t hunt it if you’re the one hungry.”

“Stop telling me what to do, I’ll eat when the provisions are restocked.” he turned to the side to face the pair and glared.

Kirishima in the meantime had already ran across the hall, climbing the stairs up to you two. “It’s been three days, brother, you’re getting aggressive.”

Bakugou took another glance at your shocked figure, and for a moment, you could see a pang of guilt hit him. But it was fleeting. His face returned to and scowl and he scoffed, fully turning around and heading down the steps past his comrade. “Aggression is what’s kept this kingdom prosperous.”

“Well, yelling at her highness isn’t very prosperous.” he shot back, tracking the blonde with his eyes.

The stranger made his way next to you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. Kirishima acknowledged him and rushed off towards the doors with his leader.

“Well they’re always talking about equality for some goddamn reason, why can’t I yell at them like men?” Bakugou threw his hands up in the air.

“That’s not what they’re talking about…” the other man responded.

Their voices grew distant as they left the hall, leaving you and the kind stranger. With Bakugou gone, you released the breath you didn’t realize you were holding and fell to your knees, groaning.

So, that was Bakugou. You didn’t wanna think about what could’ve happened if Kirishima hadn’t stopped him.

“Woah, hey, uh, we should get you back to your room.” he says, cradling your shoulders. “I’m Izuku Midoriya by the way, but you can call me Deku.”

“(Y/n)” you strained. “Nice to... nice to meet you Deku, but I can’t go back yet. I have to make sure Sho is ok…”

Deku brought you back up to your feet, sliding an arm around your waist and a head under your arm. “Sho? Is that your friend?”

“yeah,” you nodded as the two of you began heading to the door yourselves, “my childhood friend. We were...we got lost...”

“Lost? We could send a messenger out to your kingdom and let them know you’re here-” He says.

“No!” You yelled. Deku looked taken aback and gave you a concerned look. A little embarrassed, you cleared your throat. “No. It’s ok, I uh, I’d prefer we don’t make a huge deal about this.”

Deku chuckled, “Oh, of course my lady, but, are you sure you’re ok to go visit him?”

“Please, I was the one who caught him in all of this mess.”

He smiled as he pushed one of the doors open with his foot, and headed down the steps almost as far as where your own room was, only before the last flight of stairs he took a bridge across to another tree where a small cluster of buildings sat. He gently slid out from besides you to open the front door. Sho laid flat on the bed in front, quietly sleeping. He looked much better now. The lump on his face had almost disappeared, wrapped heavily in clean bandages. He was shirtless as well, only more bandages covering his chest and parts of his arm. He had bruises everywhere, but otherwise, he looked taken care of. In addition to the bedside dresser, there was a small wooden table to his right with tools, bandages, and washcloths. He must’ve needed stitches. You teared up at the sight, feeling guilty again for all the trouble you caused.

Deku gently placed a hand on your shoulder again, leading you to a couch on the side of the room. “He’s got a concussion as well as deep cuts here and there, but he’ll make a full recovery in about three weeks. I’m going to have him stay in bed for a week and a half and then go from there.”

“It’s all my fault,” you whispered, voice cracking. At this point, you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore.

“What? No, it’s those people in the forest. Wild people. They like to mess with anyone caught out at night. Except for kach- erm, The King. They’re terrified of him.”

You sniffed, “Bakugou, right?”

“Y-yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “we grew up together, so I’m used to calling him Kacchan. It was just a name and uh, oh, and, I’m sorry for the way he acted, he’s been out scouting food for a while, not eating at all. He thinks the forest is slowly going dry. He’s a good person, I promise, he just has a mean face. He must’ve scared you.”

“It’s ok,�� you shook your head. “He was...he was right. About my people.” You wiped the tears from your eyes, staring at the wall in front of you. “My father, he likes money and power. He likes seeing happy and rich citizens. I used to think it was because he cared about them when really, it’s so he could show off to other kingdoms. I could hear them sometimes, talking about expanding towards the forest, cutting down more trees for a new library or something. He liked the pelts too, making me little stuffed rabbits when I was younger. I always thought it was ok though, I never knew people lived here. Now I feel awful.”

Deku gave you a kind smile. “Hey, but it wasn’t you, right? That was your dad. Don’t beat yourself up over his decisions.”

“Yeah” you sighed, “I guess.”

Deku’s smile grew bigger, and he pushed himself off the couch. You watched him walk over to the dresser and opened up one of the drawers to pull out a small blanket.

“Here” he said, unfolding the blanket and handing it to you. “I’m gonna go grab the medicinal tea I brought to your room, it’ll help with the pain. Uh, I’m not quite sure, but I think you may have slightly fractured a rib, so the best thing we could do is let it heal itself for a week. Who knows, it might just be bruised.”

“Thanks.” you say, laying yourself down on the couch in the meantime. After Deku came back with that tea, you passed out fast.

You had a dream. Your father was right in front of you, raising his sword above his head. He was scared of something, but you couldn’t tell what. The background was fuzzy, but you could see it was destroyed. You were raising your arms, protecting someone. Everything was in slow motion, fading slowly to white.

You spasmed awake, inhaling sharply. The image faded fast out of your mind. Shoto was snoring lightly on the bed, arm lazily resting atop his stomach. Good. Sighing, you set aside the blanket and walked out the door for some fresh air. The tea helped you a lot, even now. You didn’t even feel any pain. The moon shone brightly again as the breeze cooled your skin, giving you deja vu of the whole fiasco from before. Except this time, this was peaceful. You weren’t lost. No one was chasing you. And most importantly, you and Shoto were safe. Everything was good for now.

A large shadow fluttered in the corner of your eye, causing you to jump a bit. A red dragon with magnificent wings landed in the clearing by the kingdom gates, which were now closed shut. Its rider, the buttholeish King, yelled at the guards. They notched their arrows, shooting into the forest with expertise. A roar of some sort of animal retreated, rustling trees in its wake. Bakugou slid down from its neck to untie the fresh animal carcasses secured on the dragon’s back. Other soldiers came from the buildings to help carry them. Then, as Bakugou hopped to the ground, the dragon began to shrink back into itself. Wings folded into his backside, neck shortening, and body losing its color to turn into...Kirishima. It blew your mind. So you really did hit him hard back there. You had to apologize.

You rushed down the steps to find them, not really thinking about the fact that you had absolutely no idea where you were going. Nor did you really think about your stamina. Five sets of stairs and you were already panting.

As you leaned against the tree, trying to be careful with your breaths. It still didn’t hurt, but damn did you get tired quick. Just as you were turning to tackle another flight, a head of blonde hair appeared from below, scowling.

“Again? What is it with you and not sitting still?” he grumbled. You could hear the fatigue in the way his voice cracked.

You sat up from the tree, surprised that he climbed so fast. “I, er, wanted to apologize to Kirishima for the wound is all.” you rubbed your arm nervously as he stopped in front of you.

He eyes you with skepticism, probably wondering if you were telling the truth or not. “He’s gonna be taking care of the fresh meat for a while, and probably sleep till late afternoon knowing the lazy idiot.” he grumbles.

“Oh.” you say, still kind of embarrassed.

“And besides, he’s fine. He heals like it’s nothing.”

“Because he’s a dragon…?”

“Heh, something like that.”

“Oh.”

You two sit in silence for a moment after that. The awkwardness was almost unbearable.

“This reminds me, Shitty Hair wanted me to do something. Can you walk up the stairs?” he finally asks.

You shrug, “I’ll get up there eventually.” you respond.

“Well, I don’t have time to wait for ‘eventually’” he says, and lifts you up off the ground with both arms. He hugs you close to his bare chest and climbs the stairs with no problem, not even a slight change in breathing.

You help a bit, holding on to his neck for support. “Where-“

“I have to give you your shit back.” He grunts. “You lived so I don’t get to keep your sword.”

“What an awful mouth you have for a king.” You frown.

He smirks in response, “you haven’t seen the half of it, princess.”

Princess. The way he says “princess” sends shivers down your spine. You don’t know why, but you found yourself staring at his features again. Hair shining almost white again, gently waving in the wind. Piercing eyes, sharp jawline, defined collarbones…

“Oi, quit starin.” He interrupts your thoughts.

“Huh? Why...uh, why would I stare at you?” you say, your voice an octave higher.

He chuckles lightly while you try to look everywhere but him. He passes Shoto’s room and instead keeps heading upwards. Past the throne room too, taking a staircase to a room above it. He pushes it open to a gorgeous bedroom. The amount of oil lamps lining the walls could barely light up the entirety of the room. Giant bed with plush pillows along one wall, a balcony on the other side of the room, a door leading to what you think is a bathroom, and lots and lots of “trophies” hanging up on the wall. Helmets, swords, capes, horns, claws- must be from what he killed. One horn spread the length across the wall from his bed, being almost 10 feet long. You’d be terrified to know what creature that belonged to...or, had belonged to. Still, they were oddly beautiful. Clearly, they were a struggle to take down, judging by the damaged sword Bakugou wielded and the slight deformities in the trophies themselves. A crack down the middle of a knight’s helmet. Multiple tears in a blue and white feathered cape. It was almost surreal to you, that a man that could win all these vicious battles can gently place you on the soft cushions of one of the few couches that occupied his room.

Walking to his bed, he picked up an object propped up against the bed frame. He trunks to you, holding it flat against both hands. Your sword!

He unsheathed it, examining the blade in the dim lamplights with approval. “This is made of Awherian metal, better not lose it.” he says, sheathing it and handing it back to you. You take it gingerly, propping it by your feet.

“Awherian?” You repeated.

“Awherians used to be a tribe up in the North before going extinct a long time ago. Legends say they used to battle giants, cuz they ate their dragons...or some bullshit my old hag likes to talk about.” he crosses his arms.

He took notice of you lowering your head, and sighed, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“I uh,” he cleared his throat, “I shouldn’t have said all that. Earlier, I mean. Kirishima was right about being hungry, I don’t usually yell at women. Unless they’re trying to kill me, you know.”

“It’s ok,” you lean back into the couch, “you weren’t wrong. I said this to Deku earlier already: I thought my father was doing the right thing because he, well, he’s my father. If I had known there was a whole civilization here...I just...I hope I can help.”

He looked at you for a few seconds, calculating. Were you genuinely being honest? Maybe, he thought. He has his doubts still.

Bakugou was always weary about newcomers, and didn’t take too kindly to them. The only reason these two were brought in was because Kirishima urged him to. The king refused at first, reasoning that this could’ve been a set-up, that the cult that pranced the outskirts of their territory had a plan to send in spies this way. Of course, Kirishima says that there’s no way they would possibly injure their own like this, leaving them one step away from death, but Bakugou has seen their ways. They would eat each other if they wanted to. Eventually, he gave in on the reasoning that they weren’t the smartest of people. You seemed different. He ordered his closest men, including that shitty Deku to keep an eye on you both.

“Maybe you could. Who fuckin knows” He says, “but not when you can’t even climb fucking stairs without wheezing like a granny.” He says, earning a slightly offended whine from you. He smiles lightly, then points to his bed with a thumb. “Go.”

You look at him, perplexed. “In your bed?”

“No shit, it’s the middle of the night.” He narrows his eyes.

“I’m, b-but we’re not married-“ you stuttered.

Bakugou rolls his eyes, “relax princess, you have it to yourself. I just don’t feel like taking you back down to your room, or to that half n half bastard.”

With a grunt, he picks you up off the couch and onto the bed. The plush blankets swallowing you almost immediately.

“Do you like insulting people?” you ask as he throws the blanket over you.

“I dunno, do you like breathing, or is it just something you do?”

“You’re impossible.” You rolled your eyes. “Where are you going to sleep?”

“The couch.” He replies, undoing the buckles on his cape. “Sleep, we’ll have you properly taken care of tomorrow, starting with a bath.” He wrinkled his nose.

“Hey!” you pouted. A bath sounds wonderful though.

“You were supposed to be in bed all day today, but whatever.” he sighs. He folded his cape neatly and placed it on his bedside dresser, then flopped onto a couch on the far side of the room, facing away from you. Eventually, his muscles relaxed and you could hear soft puffs of breaths as he slept.

It was calming in a way. Every night, even as a small child afraid of the dark spaces in your room, you slept alone. You had to overcome that fear alone, your mother definitely didn’t want you bothering her, and your father was far too tired from dealing with the kingdom all day. But knowing someone else was in the room felt, in an odd way, nice. You drifted off again, but this time, without dreams.

Tag List: @pasteldaze @decayz @akihoeeeeeeeee @blinkingsuns @stan-josie @skylan666 @hypothesaurus

Let me know if you’d like to be in the tag list!❤️

#bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader series #bakugou x y/n #mha x reader #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x reader #i am so tired but i enjoy writing all this for you lovely people #love you all

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cherryrogers · 4 years

Text

➸ call me baby {2/3}

SUMMER NIGHTS

pairing: bucky barnes x reader | biker au

warnings: swearing, violence, implied smut, mainly fluff.

word count: 7.8k

synopsis: Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker. And when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either. That was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.

series masterlist

a/n: ok so this has turned into a three part series!! the next part will likely be a bit shorter, but i wanted to wrap up the story properly and i felt that needed it’s own separate part. i’m gonna post a masterlist for this series tomorrow, and i might write some drabbles for this fic to add to it once it’s finished if anyone has any hc/drabble ideas they’d like to send in?? i need to stop rambling so much lmao,,, please enjoy!!

Sunsets; consisting of an array of warm tones, reds and oranges bleeding into each other, casting a dim, natural light over cities before the artificial yellow beaming of street lamps lit up the world instead. A comforting reminder that every bad day eventually ends, but a sad reminder that every perfect day ends too.

In your case, they’d been unsettling ends to a continuous string of perfect days. And following those, a bright sunrise poured light through your windows every morning, indicating that you were one day closer to the end of the summer.

Currently, the deep, warm sky was the background of a blissful ride through the city. Perched on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle, your arms enveloping his waist, fingertips grazing lightly over his stomach through his shirt. No destination in particular; just an excuse to be close to one another.

Since the night at Wanda’s bar, the night where you simply let yourself begin to feel for Bucky, things had been different. Better.

Rides around the city were a frequent occurrence, usually happening when Bucky offered to take you home on his bike, but taking the long way back to enjoy the view and the feeling of you next to him for a short while longer.

It was therapeutic, tranquil. Well, until your road rage got the best of you.

“Dude, it’s a green light,” You shouted at the car in front you. “Green means go, didn’t you learn that in kindergarten?”

“Christ, you realise you’re yellin’ straight in my ear, right?”

“Sorry, Buck,” You patted his chest apologetically, before proceeding to yell once again. “Not my fault some people don’t know how traffic lights work!”

It was entertaining to Bucky, anyway. Even if it did earn you some middle fingers, which you gladly returned.

As the sky began to lose its vibrant hue, the two of you headed back in the direction of your place, definitely your least favourite part of the ride, but you savoured it nevertheless.

You were friends. Teasing each other incessantly because you just bounced off one another like that, but you often found yourself gravitating towards him. During meals at the clubhouse, you sat in the same spot as you did when you entered the place for the first time; right next to Bucky. While that likely meant for Steve and Peggy that they were in for a painful time, consisting of them slowly losing their patience with you both, they didn’t mind. Well, they did a little.

It’d been almost two hours since you started your game of Monoply. You weren’t sure if you were anywhere near the end of the game, but everyone was still pretty into it. Clint and Sam were paired up as a team, Steve and Peggy shared the little top-hat token, you and Bucky had the wheelbarrow, and Natasha had the car. She claimed she worked better when was on her own team, which was proved to be true by the fact she was winning.

It was Steve and Peggy’s turn to roll, and their top hat was moved to land on the ‘Boardwalk’ space.

“Oh, that’s our space!” You chirped. “Pay up, my dudes.”

“_____, you don’t have a house on that space.”

“Well, could you pass me one? I want this space.”

“You have to buy one.”

“Then I’ll buy one.”

Peggy sighed. “It’s not your turn, you can’t buy a house. Your token isn’t even on that space.”

You furrowed your brows, turning to Bucky. Maybe you should’ve read the rules before playing; you’d never actually played Monoply before. “Oh. That kinda sucks then.”

After a moment, Bucky reached over to the little bag of houses, picking one out and placing it on the Boardwalk space.

“Buck, that’s cheating.” Steve glared at his friend, who only shrugged innocently.

“She’s never played before, let her just have the damn house.”

“You’re only sayin’ that ‘cause she’s on your team, jerk.”

Bucky just shrugged again, turning to shoot you a wink as you smirked in satisfaction and placing your little house on the space, missing Steve and Peggy sharing a look of annoyance as they passed a pile of yellow bills over to you.

It was safe to say the two of you weren’t allowed to play as a team during board games anymore. Natasha always won the games anyway, so it’s not like you and him cheating made much of a difference.

You thought things were moving smoothly with Bucky. You knew that you liked him, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he already knew that — it was pretty fucking obvious at this point. But it would be a rather dumb move to escalate things even if you wanted to. The summer would be over in two months, one third of it was already gone, and you would be too by the beginning of September. Naively, you’d told yourself that you simply wouldn’t take things further. Easy enough, right?

Wrong; so very wrong. You’d proved to yourself that you seriously needed to stop acting impulsively on one fateful after a day spent at the clubhouse.

You’d been about to leave, but had decided to head off to the office where Bucky had been pretty much all evening while everyone else was out in the backyard, which was odd considering you would’ve assumed he’d be the last to not spend the night drinking beer and hanging out with friends over, well, anything else.

You knocked loudly on the door, hearing shuffling and the clicking of a computer keyboard before a quiet ‘come in’ followed. Furrowing your brows, you stepped into the room, eyes landing on the biker slumped in the chair at the desk, forcing a small smile. Did he really think your were that oblivious?

“You’ve been hiding in here all night,” You approaches the desk, crossing your arms over your chest. “Is there something you wanna share with the class?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered between the computer screen and your face, before he shook his head. “Just dealin’ with club stuff.”

“Hm, and what counts as club stuff?”

“It’s stuff you don’t need to worry about.”

You scoffed. “Huh, what happened to not doing stuff you shouldn’t be? Not getting into trouble?”

“Do you ever mind your own business?” Bucky questioned bluntly, though there was a smirk tugging at his lips.

Mirroring his expression, you leaned against the desk next to him. “Not when someone is clearly trying to hide something.

The biker bit the inside of his cheek, contemplating for a few moments. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. Sure, he’d only known you around a month now, but you were... his friend. A good friend. He just didn’t want you mixed up in anything dangerous. Steve wasn’t lying when he said that the club tried to stay out of trouble, because they definitely didn’t go out of their way to get into shitty situations. But if they needed to get their hands a little dirty to deal with clubs that thrived off trouble, then so be it.

Eventually, Bucky sighed, moving a hand back over his computer mouse and letting the screen light up again. Crinkling your brows, your eyes scanned the screen. He’d been looking at a map of Brooklyn, and the little red location pointer was pinned onto a warehouse downtown.

“Peter Parker, he’s just a kid. Parents died when he was barely five, lost his uncle a few years back. He lives at home with his aunt in Queens since he’s still in school, but we sorta took him in a while ago. The night after his uncle died, Tony found him on the sitting on the curb a few blocks away from here, completely distraught. He managed to talk him down though, and found out he was pretty good with engineering. We said if he wanted, he could help out with fixing bikes and cars at the clubhouse, and he comes by every so often since then.”

You didn’t know Tony that well; he was a little older than the rest of the club, and he lived outside of the clubhouse with his wife, Pepper. You hadn’t met Peter at all, but you trusted Bucky when he said that he was a good kid.

“Last week, he showed up to the here with a busted lip and broken nose. Said that Rumlow and his guys had jumped him, and that they wanted him to do a job for them — collect a weapon shipment from this warehouse.” Bucky nodded towards the screen.

At the mention of Brock Rumlow, you felt your jaw tighten. Thankfully, he’d kept his distance from Wanda’s bar since your last encounter with him, but you were still pissed off about the show he put on there, and there was nothing you regretted more than not jumping over the bar top and kicking him in the balls. Now he’d resorted to threatening a kid and making him do his dirty work?

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Peter’s meant to meet the guy delivering the weapons next week, so I’m gonna take Nat, Sam and Tony down to the warehouse and deal with any of Rumlow’s guys that are nearby.”

Upon seeing your face light up, Bucky chuckled, standing from his seat. “And no, you can’t come.”

“Bucky, I’m not a woman of many talents, but if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s handing people’s asses to them.” You lifted your chin confidently.

“Baby—”

You held a finger up to shush him. “Okay, I know I said that I liked when you call me that, but not now. Brock is the guy that grabbed me, Buck. And the guy that punched you in the face!”

“I know, and we’ll deal with him,” A smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Besides, I thought you weren’t part of any club. Can’t do club stuff if you’re not a member.”

“Well, not that I want to... but how would one go about becoming part of your little gang?” You weren’t lying; you definitely did not want to be a damn biker, but you did want the chance to boot Brock Rumlow and his group of dipshits in the face.

“You could become an old lady.” The biker cocked a brow, and you chuckled heartily.

Not that you were up to date with the biker lingo, but you could take a good guess at what being an old lady meant. “Hm, if only there was someone that wanted me to be their old lady.”

Narrowing his eyes, Bucky glanced over your features, waiting for you to laugh and brush the comment off as a joke since the majority of your vocabulary was sarcasm, but you didn’t. The corners of your lips curled up slightly, not teasingly, but softly...

...Until you became painfully aware of the silence that’d fell upon the two of you, and let out a sigh to break it. It was already late when you were supposed to leave, anyway. Now, the dim moonlight was casting shadows outside of the office window, the only source of bright light being the yellow streams from lampposts dotted up and down the quiet street.

“Well, I should get going.” You reluctantly stepped back from him.

“You don’t have to go, you know. Peggy stays overnight when it’s late.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, cause Peggy has a boyfriend that she can share a bed with.”

“Hey, I’ve got a double bed.” Bucky teased, and you’d be lying if you said sleeping next to him in his bed didn’t make you feel a certain type of way.

Though, you definitely wouldn’t let him know that. “You’re stupid, Bucky.”

He shrugged, following you as you continued for the door of the office. “I mean, even if I had a single—”

“I would still not be getting in your bed,” You deadpanned, finishing his sentence for him and promoting the stupidly hot little smirk of his to appear again. “Okay, now I’m leaving. Goodbye, Bucky.”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

“No you will not,” You breathed out a laugh. “There are two bottles of beer on that desk and death isn’t on the cards for me tonight — can’t get rid of me that easily.”

A look of realisation washed over his face, a pink colour tinting his cheeks. Was Bucky Barnes blushing? That was certainly a sight, and what a sight it was.

“S’alright — I don’t wanna get rid of you,” The biker stepped in front of you, dangerously close as your back hit the door. “Not yet, anyway.”

You couldn’t lie; Bucky was hot, he was beautiful. Even when he was being a sarcastic ass, but he was just as much one of them as you were. God dammit, as much as you wanted to slap yourself for letting your insides melt for a guy you didn’t know all that well, you knew that if you didn’t fucking kiss him right this second that you’d regret the hell out of it later.

And so, you did.

You grabbed the collar of the leather jacket he never failed to make an appearance without— or perhaps he just had a lot of leather jackets, though leather jackets didn’t necessarily need washed so it was probably the same jacket— not the time, _____. Carrying on, you swiftly captured his lips with yours, relief washing through you as you felt him react almost immediately. Almost, he definitely wasn’t expecting you to do that.

The kiss was gentle; gentle enough so that you could simply savour the feeling of his lips on yours, the taste a mixture of smoke and minty chewing gum. It was slow, but quick. Bucky didn’t even have the chance to move his hands to your waist before you pulled back, raising your hand to trace his bottom lip with your thumb.

“You still planning on getting rid of me?” You grinned, amused by the biker’s dumbfounded expression.

He laughed breathily after a couple of seconds, nose nudging yours playfully. “Not if you keep kissin’ me like that, baby.”

“Hm, maybe you’ll just get lucky again.” You pushed at his chest softly, letting you step forward and open the door to leave the office.

Bucky let out a scoff. “You’re really just gonna leave? After that?”

You shrugged, cocking a brow. “I mean, I could stay if you let me come with you next week...”

“No chance,” He smiled smugly. “Shut the door on your way out, will you?”

“You know what? I’m never kissing you again.”

“Whatever you say, _____.”

You rolled your eyes at his cocky tone, turning to make your way out of the room. “And I’m leaving the door open!”

“Hm, get home safe.” He called back.

Trying to bite back a smile as you looked over your shoulder back at him, you mouthed a final goodbye and left the office, a rush of feelings suddenly emerging as you stepped out of the clubhouse and onto the street.

You’d just kissed Bucky. You had kissed Bucky. And he had kissed you back. Well, shit.

Did you need to talk about it with him? What it meant for the two of you? Did he just kiss you for the fun of it or did he actually have feelings for you? Ugh. You’d always hated serious conversations, because apparently using sarcasm to cover up actually talking about your feelings was inappropriate and unhealthy. That’s what Peggy always told you, anyway. Perhaps there was no conversation to be had. Bucky could be your summer fling; a couple of months of fun before you were off on your travels again. The only reason he kissed you back might’ve been because he knew you were leaving eventually, which meant he didn’t have to commit to you.

Whatever — you were simply going to go with the flow. If you and Bucky ended up becoming... something more, that would be great. If not, you’d be slightly disappointed, but you’d be out of Brooklyn soon enough to forget about it.

And now, as you tightened your arms around the biker’s waist, you just enjoyed the moment. As someone that rarely stayed in a city for longer than a couple of weeks, enjoying the moment was all that you could do.

* * *

“Pegs, I am working. You can’t just call and ask me this kinda stuff during a shift.”

“I certainly can, especially when I had to hear it first from Steve.”

A strained sign fell from your lips as you leaned against bar, checking that no customers were approaching the counter before you turned your back. “I was gonna tell you, I promise. I didn’t think Bucky was gonna kiss and tell as soon as it happened.”

“I don’t think it was exactly a kiss and tell situation,” Peggy chuckled over the phone. “Steve said it was written all over his face after you’d left the clubhouse.”

Feeling heat rushing to your own face, you lowered your head, hoping no one was observing the bartender getting all embarrassed. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell Peggy about your kiss with Bucky. She was your best friend, of course you wanted to tell her. But considering that you weren’t really sure what direction you and him were going in, you thought perhaps that it’d be better to just keep it between you and him, like a Danny and Sandy situation — if everyone had known about their summer affair, it wouldn’t have been the same.

“Can you... tell him to not question Bucky about it?” You asked. “You told me he’d never been in a proper relationship before and neither have I. I think we need to work out... whatever we are ourselves, you know?”

Since the kiss, you hadn’t had the chance to even see Bucky that much. Wanda had been asking you to work more shifts at the bar because one of your co-workers was going on vacation for two weeks, which you didn’t mind doing. Other than hanging out with Peggy and seeing everyone at the clubhouse, it’s not like you had much better to do. Plus, it meant more money to put towards your travels at the end of the summer. At the rate you were earning and including what you already had saved up, you’d be getting your dream London trip a lot sooner than you’d thought.

“Of course, I understand,” She replied. “_____, I— I don’t want to play devil’s advocate, but have you thought about what’ll happen when summer ends? When you leave Brooklyn?”

The thought had crossed your mind, yes, though it was also pushed to the back of your mind whenever it popped up. In all honesty, you had zero clue what’d happen when you left Brooklyn again.

“Nope,” You said defeatedly. “Do I need to think about that now? What if we don’t even last until the end of summer?”

From the pause in conversation, you could just tell that Peggy knew you were bullshitting. “Okay, I’m going to pretend you did not just say that. You don’t just kiss guys, _____. And Bucky doesn’t get all flushed from kissing any old woman. It’s obvious you two click easily, and I honestly don’t think it’s something that can just end once you leave.”

The girl was right, she was completely right, but you weren’t sure what the hell you were supposed to do. It’s not like you could stay in Brooklyn forever and abandon your travels. That wasn’t who you were; staying wouldn’t be you being true to yourself. You couldn’t throw that away for a man you barely knew, a guy that possibly may not want you anymore after the summer ends, though there was a large part of you that didn’t believe that.

“I can’t talk about this right now, Peggy, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the kiss earlier, everything is just... it’s just confusing,” You rambled, wanting to steer the conversation away from your love life for the night. It was nearing nine o’clock, and with an hour still left of your shift, you didn’t want to waste your energy on a conversation that could be had another time. “Anyway, how is everyone? Has Steve heard from Bucky?”

This night was also the night that poor Peter Parker was meant to be carrying out Rumlow’s dirty work, and Bucky was going to get his club to back off. Well, hopefully. He’d already been punched in the face by that bastard once, you hoped that he’d be able to avoid having that happen again. You’d texted him earlier, telling him to let you know when he was home and safe because you would, in fact, worry about him. He teased you for your concern, but you frankly didn’t care. The fact they were having Peter pick up a weapon shipment implied that they wanted to use them to hurt people, and opposing biker clubs seemed like the type of people they’d target.

“They’ve been out an hour, so they should hopefully be back soon,” Peggy assured you. “We haven’t heard from them yet, though.”

“Right,” You exhaled, a little upset that there was no update from them. The sound of the door opening a few metered behind you reminded you that you were still at work, and that you should probably say goodbye to Peggy for the time being. “I’ve gotta go, Pegs — duty calls. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Alright, darling. Be careful going home.”

With a quiet ‘will do’, you quickly ended the phone call and shoved the device into your jean pocket, turning around to identify the source of the footsteps getting closer to the bar. Well, fuck.

An ugly smirk, scruffy jaw, messy hair — Brock fucking Rumlow was standing right in front of you.

You could’ve laughed, in fact, you did laugh. He was back, even after the embarrassing show he put on last time he was at the bar, and this time, he was alone.

Putting back the glass you’d pulled out from under the bar on instinct, because there was no way you were serving him, you cocked a brow, waiting for him to make the first move.

He slid onto the stool in front of you, the same place he’d sat during his last visit. There was a short silence as his dark eyes roamed your face, before he exhaled heavily. “You not gonna ask for my order?”

“No.” You answered instantly. It looked like he was expecting the cold shoulder from the way he chuckled at your answer.

You wanted to ask what he was doing here, why he wasn’t down at that random warehouse making sure the teenager he manipulated was doing the job correctly, but you didn’t imagine it was a good idea to let on that Bucky was telling you about that sort of stuff. He’d probably try to hurt him as opposed to you, and you didn’t want to put Bucky in any unnecessary shit.

“You know, it’s against the law to refuse service to an innocent customer.”

Clearly, he didn’t know the law at all, but you found it awfully ironic that he was claiming that you were in the wrong side of the law. You cocked your brow higher. “And you’re always abiding by the law, Brock?”

“What makes you think I’m not?” The man narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t know,” You shrugged nonchalantly. “Last time you were here, you were the one assaulting an innocent customer, and me.”

Brock scoffed. “You’re calling Barnes innocent?”

You only stared at him, waiting for an elaboration.

“Do you know where he is right now?”

Yes — dealing with your bullshit and the rest of your gang.

“Enlighten me.”

“A dirty warehouse across town, meeting a dude that’s sellin’ him weapons. Rifles, pistols, you name it.” He leaned forward on his elbows, pursing his lips.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you met his eyes, dark and full of hope that he’d somehow miraculously turned you against Bucky -- he was going to have to try a little harder than that if he wanted to sell his lies.

“Where are the rest of you pals, Brock?”

He furrowed his brows. “Down at the warehouse, shutting down the deal.”

“And why aren’t you with them, hm? I don’t think it’s ‘cause you decided you wanted a drink over the chance to screw Bucky and his club over.”

The guy clearly thought you were oblivious, that you’d be naive enough to believe that Bucky was the one having Peter collect the weapons instead of him. Maybe he thought it’d turn you against him, and then you’d carelessly join Rumlow’s club without a second thought. Even if Bucky hadn’t told you anything, there wasn’t a thing that could come out of Rumlow’s mouth that could convince you Bucky’s club was doing anything of the sort.

Unfortunately, the comment seemed to tip the conversation in the exact way you hadn’t wanted it to.

Brock’s jaw clenched, eyes hardening as he sat up properly on the stool. “What’s he been tellin’ you, huh?”

“I think it’s time for you to go, Brock.” You glared at the man. There was no way you were letting him sit and annoy the shit out of you when you weren’t going to serve him.

“You see,” He laughed emptily. “If Barnes has been spillin’ things that he shouldn’t be, I need to know. Can’t have any false information spreading.”

“False information, right,” You muttered. In your defense, all you knew about his club was about them manipulating Peter. Though you could assume that wasn’t the only stupid shit they were doing, you didn’t know anything else for sure. “Well, you’re wasting your time. I don’t know anything, so get out of here.”

Brock tutted, rising from his seat and cracking his knuckles. “You’re a good liar, but I ain’t buyin’ it.”

“That’s not my problem,” You glowered, loving quickly around the bar to pace towards the door, opening it in an attempt to lure him out. “You need to go, or I’ll call Wanda over.”

Stalking towards you, the man shook his head. “If Barnes thinks he can tell his little girlfriend all of our business, he’s a fucking idiot,” He took a grasp on your wrist, his other hand curling into a fist. “Someone’s gotta show him what the consequences of that are.”

Anger flashed in your eyes as you struggled against his grip. “Get off me, dude. I don’t know anything.”

“Liar.” He murmured, before taking his fist and colliding it with your cheek abruptly.

A groan of pain left your lips as you stumbled back, the clutch on your wrist gone as Brock eyed you cautiously. Carefully, you brought your hand to where you’d been hit, blood quickly staining your fingertips as they grazed over the cuts on your skin from Brock’s rings. He’d hit you. That stupid, fucking son of a bitch had punched you. If there was any justifiable reason for you to kick him in the balls, this was it, and you were going to take advantage of the opportunity.

He definitely thought you were done with him for the night; you could tell by the way his chapped lips curled into a sick smile. He thought he’d won — how cute.

When your parents made you take self-defense classes ‘just as a precaution’ when you were a teenager, you thought it was unreasonable. Now, you’d never been more thankful.

Brushing your hair out of your face, your eyes flickered up to Brock, who was still staring down at you. Slowly, you moved so that your back was pressed against the closed bar door, clasping your hands around the long metal handle. The man assumed you were just catching your breath, and wasn’t ready for when you forcefully pushed your body forward, raising a booted foot and slamming it into his crotch.

A string of swear words fell from his lips as his upper body fell forward, Fuck it, you thought, striding over to his hunched over form and smashing your own fist against his cheek. He staggered back, just catching himself on the bar. Eyes wide, he raised his head to scowl at you, spitting blood from his freshly split lip onto the floor beside him.

From the other side of the bar, Wanda jogged over to the scene, an unimpressed scowl on her face. “What the hell is going on?”

The woman knew it wasn’t you causing the trouble, and there was even a smug smirk threatening to peak through her annoyed demeanor at the sight of Brock Rumlow with a split lip. She strode over to him, pulling him up harshly by the collar of his jacket.

“You’re banned from this bar. If I see you in here again, you’re getting a bullet straight through your gut, yes?” Wanda practically spat at the man, who nodded reluctantly and pulled away from her grasp. She turned to you, a small smile on her lips. “_____, you’re free to go early. Do you need...?”

Wanda eyed your cut cheek and bruised jaw, but you only shook your head. “Thanks, Wan, but I’ll just head home.”

The strawberry-blond nodded, sending a final glare towards Brock before heading back behind the bar.

Of course, your stubborn self wouldn’t let yourself leave without having the last word, causing you to approach him as he haphazardly stood from where he’d fallen. “If I ever have the displeasure of seeing you again, and you try to hurt me or anyone else, I’ll cut off your fingers and force them down your throat, you got that?”

Before you could wait for an answer, you were spinning around and heading out the double doors of the bar, ignoring the throb on the left side of your face as a satisfied smirk crept onto your lips. You’d never considered yourself to be a violent person, but when it came to assholes like Brock Rumlow, you didn’t mind getting your hands a little dirty. When you told Peggy about what happened, she’d likely scold you for even just mouthing back at him. You had zero regrets, however. You’d always wanted to experience a bar fight, and now you’d experienced one first hand.

As if on cue, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Stretching out your aching knuckles, you swiped it from your jeans.

Back at the clubhouse safe and sound. You want me to pick you up from work in an hour?

You chuckled under your breath, typing out a response.

Can you come up now? Wanda let me off early.

Sure, I’ll be there soon. Did you do something special to get off at this time?

Pausing, you debated whether to let him know straight away about the incident. You decided against it; when he saw your face, he’d figure it out soon enough.

Something like that...

After twenty minutes of aimlessly standing outside of the bar, the familiar roar of a motorcycle engine caught your attention. As the bike came to a stop, the beaming headlights had you squinting to even make out the outline of Bucky in the dark. However, judging by the speed at which he was dismounting the bike, you were sure that the light had allowed him to see the state of you.

“Holy shit, _____,” Bucky paced over to you, hands coming to your shoulders. “What the hell happened?”

You let out a hesitant laugh. “Uh, rough shift?”

Scoffing, the biker narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, looks like it. What— are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You assured him, removing his hands from your shoulders and squeezing them comfortingly. “Trust me, you should see the other guy.”

“You were fighting?”

“Bucky,” You intervened, for now deciding against telling him that it was in fact Brock Rumlow you’d gotten on the wrong side of. It’d only result in him marching into the bar himself and starting another disturbance, and you wouldn’t be surprised if Wanda pulled out her pistol again. “C’mon, can we go? My house, the clubhouse, wherever — I’ll explain when half of my face isn’t aching like hell.”

The man paused, eyeing you cautiously before a soft chuckle left his lips. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” You patted his chest, plastering on a smile. “Now come on; I didn’t wait this long to clean you up when you got decked across the face.”

With an amused eye roll, Bucky tugged on your hand and led you to the bike. He’d never seen someone so calm after getting a punch to the face, but then again — as cliché as it was — he’d never met anyone like you before.

Half an hour later, the biker had you sat on the counter-top in one of the bathrooms at the clubhouse, standing between your legs and gently dabbing at your cut with a wet cloth. The bleeding had stopped by the time you got to the clubhouse, but it still needed cleaned up. You were holding a cool ice pack to your jaw, watching him intently as he took care of you. Might as well take the opportunity to stare at the guy, right?

“I’m gonna put some antiseptic cream on the cut, just to make sure it doesn’t get infected.” He muttered, reaching for the tub of it in the wooden cabinet above you.

“Are you getting a sense of déjà vu too?” You quirked a brow, eliciting a smirk from him.

“Hm, a little bit; I guess we both just can’t avoid trouble,” Bucky cupped your jaw as he applied the cream, chuckling when you mumbled a ‘motherfucker’ under your breath at the sting. “You gonna tell me what happened?”

“Well,” You sighed. “Long story short... Brock Rumlow happened.”

Pulling back, Bucky furrowed his brows and waited for you to elongate the story, but you only shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. You knew that Brock being involved would only fuel a rage that he couldn’t relieve.

He bit the inside of his cheek, a frustrated laugh falling from his lips. “Rumlow did this to you? Why didn’t you tell me at the bar? Was he still there? I would’ve went in there and—”

“I know exactly what you would’ve done; why do you think I waited until now to tell you?” Though you were smiling, Bucky was still understandably apprehensive. Pursing your lips, you grabbed one of his loosely clenched fists and held it in your lap. “I meant it when I said ‘you should’ve seen the other guy’ — Brock’s face looks the same as mine and he got a boot to the balls. Plus, I think his ego was bruised enough without someone else going in there and knockin’ his lights out.”

Sighing, Bucky shook his head, unable to suppress a small grin. He never underestimated your power; anyone would be a fool to do so. When you were angry, you showed it. When someone hit you, you hit them back harder, metaphorically and literally. It wasn’t even that you had a short temper, you just didn’t put up with people’s shit, and Bucky highly admired that. “Well, I’m jealous of anyone that was there to see it — I bet it was damn hot.”

You scoffed, though seconds later you were shrugging in agreement. “It definitely was, you would’ve loved it.”

While he returned the first-aid stuff to their rightful places in the bathroom, you explained to Bucky what had gotten Brock so riled up. He wasn’t surprised that Brock tried to convince you that he was the bag guy in all of this; he’d tried to do it with Peggy too when she first started dating Steve. In his misogynistic mind, he thought that women were naive enough to be persuaded of anything that he wanted them to believe, and that by getting you on his side would mean he’d ‘won’ over Bucky. Perhaps he’d learned his lesson that night to not underestimate a woman’s power — dumbass.

Down at the warehouse, they’d managed to get Peter out of there before the person delivering the weapon shipment could arrive. There were one or two of Rumlow’s guys there keeping watch, but without him, they ran away like scared children. You teased Bucky about being a ‘big bad biker’ as he explained the night to you, but he insisted it was Natasha that had them crapping their pants; she never usually made an effort to hide the set of knives on her hip, and she apparently had a death-stare that could have anyone shaking in their boots. With him being banned from Wanda’s bar and unsuccessful with his plan of using Peter, they doubted Brock Rumlow would show his face around the area for a while. He’d only be embarrassing himself if he did.

Not long after your cut had been tended to and the pain in your jaw had subsided, you found yourself once again fighting the temptation to stay the night at the clubhouse — the temptation being a whiny biker named Bucky Barnes.

“But you’ve had a rough day,” He bargained, following after you as you made your way to the front door of the clubhouse. “It’ll save you the ride back if you stay.”

Chortling lightly, you turned around to face him. “A rough day? Buck, I gave an asshole a well-deserved kick in the balls, I’ve had a great day.”

“But what about your cheek? It might start bleeding again and—”

“Bucky,” You cut him off, biting back a smile. “Why do you really want me to stay?”

There was a short pause, heat pooling in the biker’s cheeks at the question as he raised a brow, silently asking you if he was supposed to actually answer the question. When you only quirked your own brow, he sighed, his lips curling into a fond smile. “...because I don’t like it when you leave? ‘Cause I like you a whole lot and I really wanna kiss you again?”

Slowly, you trailed a slightly bruised hand up his chest, stopping at the nape of his neck to tangle your fingers in the hair there. “You should’ve just lead with the kiss, biker.”

Before you could notice the doting grin on his lips, Bucky had looped an arm around your waist and pulled you flush to his chest, soft lips locking with yours tenderly. Your other arm was quick to wrap around his neck as you found yourself wanting to be impossibly closer to him. You tugged at his hair, eliciting a deep moan from his lips, and you pulled away with a satisfied smirk.

“So you’ll stay?” Bucky spoke against your lips, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“If you keep kissing me like that.” You imitated his words from your last kiss, to which he shook his head and clasped his hand around yours, leading you out of the hallway and up to his room.

You hoped the rest of the club were asleep, because from the thump of your body being pushed against Bucky’s bedroom door after he’d dragged you inside and shut it, you were sure that they could assume who was causing the racket at almost midnight.

Bucky’s mouth was on yours in a matter of seconds, hands cupping your jaw, carefully avoiding pressing against the side that was bruised. Meanwhile, your fingers gently traced across the hem of his t-shirt, riding it up so that the pads of your fingers came into contact with his lower stomach, ghosting over the waistband of his jeans. He stepped back momentarily, shoving his leather jacket down his arms and letting it fall to the floor.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your jacket,” You breathed. “It’s like you’re naked already.”

“Who said anything about getting naked?” He teased, hands coming to trace over your own exposed stomach. “Someone’s eager.”

“You’re stupid,” You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a grin. “Coming from the guy who just said he liked me, sap.”

“Real mature,” He snickered, riding your shirt up to your chest and tugging it off when you raised your arms to aid him. His lips moved to the crook of your neck, trailing light kissed along the soft skin there. “I meant it, though. I really like you, baby.”

A whimper escaped your lips as his attached to a certain spot on your neck, your hand fisting his shirt in response. You didn’t even have to say it back; it was obvious that you felt the same way about him in pretty much every way. The way your body was reacting to his, the breathy way that his name was falling from your swollen lips, and the fact you’d kissed him the week prior was a good indicator too.

“And you said you’d never get in my bed.” Bucky smirked after helping you pull off his own shirt.

“Technically, I’m not in your bed yet.”

“Yet,” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before trailing his hand down your jaw, along the curve of your shoulder and down to the hem of your bra. “Can’t wait to have you there, moaning all pretty for me.”

Your face grew hot at his words, but his lips were on yours again too quickly for him to notice. When he eventually pulled back for air, you bit your lip in anticipation.

“Hm, let’s not wait any longer then.”

And he didn’t let you wait any longer, leaning down to kiss you with a passionate hunger as he dragged you by both of your hands to his bed. Maybe it was the way he didn’t rush, that he took time memorizing every inch of your skin with gentle lips and wandering hands. Maybe it was the sighs and moans of pleasure that he’d managed to draw from you so easily, or the way he whispered praises and sweet nothings into your ear as he positioned himself comfortably between your legs. But after the two of you had reached your highs and were left grinning like idiots and panting for breath, you realised how fucking hard you’d fallen for the damn biker who’d somehow gotten you in his bed.

* * *

Soft snores gradually drew you from your slumber, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks before you eventually squinted your eyes open. It couldn’t have been any later than 5am; daylight was peaking through the curtains of the bedroom, but the world outside was still quiet. Quiet for New York, anyway.

Bucky had his arms tucked under his pillow, face buried into the cotton, lips parted, brown strands of hair falling in front of his face. Back muscles relaxed, shoulders raising slightly as he breathed quietly. He looked pretty like that, innocent even. Innocent in comparison to what occurred in his bed the night before.

As you idly observed him in his peaceful state, you couldn’t help but think about what Peggy had said to you earlier the prior night. She was right, as always. Especially after the night you’d just had with him, there was no way that your feelings for Bucky would just leave along with you leaving after summer. Perhaps sleeping with him was the stupidest decision you’d ever made. Perhaps it would’ve just been easier to not stay the night and pretend like you’d never kissed him in the first place. But you didn’t want that. You wanted him, even if you could only have him for the summer.

A muffled moan jerked your attention away from your thoughts and back to the man laying next to you, who was shifting as he began to wake, the muscles in his back flexing as he did so. It was a sight you could get used to for sure.

Soon enough, his baby blues met yours, a lazy smile overcoming his lips. “Watching me sleep?”

“No.” You denied, though he could see straight through the lie.

He hummed, reaching a hand out to trace over your bruised cheek. You leaned into the touch. “Still hurt?”

“Not really. Had a good doctor fix it up last night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh-huh. I mean, he slept with me afterwards which I thought was a little inappropriate...”

The biker scoffed, enclosing an arm around your bare waist to pull you closer. Sloppy kisses were planted down your jaw to your shoulder, ghosting over the dark bruises he’d marked you with only hours ago.

“I’ll miss you, you know. When you have to leave.” Bucky murmured, pulling away and laying back down against the pillow, his nose grazing yours.

You smiled sadly, pushing some of the hair away from his face. “Do you think this was stupid of us? To start something that’s just gonna have to end in a month?”

“Maybe, yeah,” He mirrored your expression, voice still a little raspy. “But I don’t regret it.”

“Me neither,” You twirled a lock of his hair sigh your pointer finger. “What’re you gonna do without me, huh? You might have to find another girl to take rides with you at sunset.”

Bucky shook his head, squeezing your waist. “Nah, I think I’d rather ride solo. Won’t be the same without you just over my shoulder.”

“Even when I get road rage?”

“Especially when you get road rage.”

“Well, we should probably make the most of the time we have left,” You propped yourself up on one elbow, a smirk playing on your lips. “How about a ride while the sun rises?”

“Sounds perfect.” He loosened his hold on you, letting you roll away from him and swing your legs over the side of the bed.

“Mind if I take a shower first?”

“Mind if I take a shower with you?”

You thought for a moment. It’d be saving water, wouldn’t it? “Screw it, why not. C’mon, Buck.”

You scurried off to the bathroom, still naked as Bucky followed after you, suddenly not so tired anymore.

Perhaps the summer hadn’t went in the direction you’d been expecting, but you had no complaints about the turn that it’d taken. You’d never believed in fate or destiny, much like you’d never believed in love. However, you’d like to believe that you were meant to meet Bucky when you came back to Brooklyn at some point. You’d never met someone— someone so perfect for you, if you were being honest. He didn’t scold you for your sarcasm, or shame you for standing up for yourself. He responded to your teasing with his own, he knew how to make you laugh, how to make your cheeks hot and your knees weak. You were always on the exact same wavelength, always knowing how the other was feeling, being able to bring out the best in one another.

It seemed like a waste to spend the little time left at home thinking about summer ending, so you simply pushed it out of your mind. Enjoying the moment was something you’d learned to do over and over again, because that was all you could do in the life that you led.

The moments spent with Bucky Barnes were just going to be a little harder to let go of.

* * *

Taglist:

@domolovee @oplunket16 @barnestruck @igotkatiepowers

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #biker!bucky #biker!bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes reader insert

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behindheremeraldeyes · 4 years

Text

sasusaku month 20

day 3- sleeping soundly

title: power nap

summary: every Tuesday, both Sasuke and Sakura go out for lunch during her break at the hospital. It’s a sacred tradition between them, but what happens when she’s too tired to even walk?

a/n: I tried to make a very cute pic this time so they could take a break from all the stress of being a ninja hahaha I have to admit that this theme made me want to miss the time when I could take more naps, and perhaps, I should start taking them whenever I can XD As always, I hope you enjoy this one! Have fun! PS: This story is still un-beta'd. My beta-reader is quite busy lately and she didn't have time for proofreading this one yet. Sorry for the mistakes you're gonna find!

Rated K

According to the big clock displayed above the central desk of the hospital reception, Sasuke had arrived just in time for her break. It was Tuesday, and just like every week, it was the day of their weekly lunch. He was on time, as always, and for some of the staff already knew what he was doing there, it wasn’t unusual for some nurses to look at him and whisper something to each other. Some would even giggle, eventually, and when they did, the Uchiha couldn’t help but wonder if seeing two people going out for lunch together was really that amusing.

It really was just lunch, after all.

A couple of months before, Sakura had been the one who had first created that tradition between them, saying it would be a nice chance for them to bond, and even if he liked to believe they didn’t really need an official reason to meet, the Uchiha eventually decided to play along. Every week since then, she would normally be waiting for him in front of the hospital reception, and as soon as their eyes met, she would greet him joyful before they could go find a place to eat. They would spend some time together, just the two of them, chatting while enjoying a nice and peaceful meal until her break was over. He would walk her back to the hospital, then, and he wouldn’t cordially wait until he made sure she was already inside.

Those were their Tuesdays. Simple, comfortable and consistent.

They had fallen into that delicate and domestic routine, and it didn’t take long before he grew fond of that unaltered part of his new life. He enjoyed those moments to the point where he would sometimes catch himself growing excited for their weekly encounter and lose a couple of hours of sleep because of that.

Tuesdays had become really great days, for sure.

And as soon as he saw her smiling, small figure talking to an old lady, he realized they were about to have another good day just the two of them.

When her green eyes made contact with his mismatched ones, a brighter smile lit up on her face and it didn’t take long before she excused herself from what seemed to be just a civilian wanting to chat. Ever since he returned to Konoha, Sasuke realized the pinkette had become quite popular among the elderly, and it wasn’t unusual for them to greet her with a wrinkled smile whenever they saw her on the streets. She would always treat them nicely, he realized, and perhaps that was the reason why they all liked her so much.

She walked up to him, then, yawning deeply as her heels clicked across the hospital reception. Now that she was standing closer, his eyes could see that she seemed to be a bit tired, her eyelids looking too heavy as they threatened to cover her eyes completely. There were dark circles around her eyes, and her breathing pattern was calm and slow.

Apparently, someone had had a rough day.

“Hey there—” She started, but her words were cut by another yawn that escaped her lips. The back of her right hand went to cover her mouth, and she blinked twice before fully opening her eyes. “—Sasuke-kun.”

“You look tired.” He said, simply, his face unaltered.

She looked at him, lifting her brows in surprise. The pinkette was still not used to how straight-forward he was, but it didn’t take long before her lips curled up. “Is it that evident?”

“Aah.” He agreed. “The dark circles around your eyes are quite big.”

“Ugh.” She pouted, her small hands now touching her face. “I guess not even all that make up could hide them in the end.” She smiled weakly at that, her head tilting to the side.

“Bad day?”

“Not really. It’s just that I got home pretty late last night.” She started, and soon they were walking towards the exit of the building. She stretched her arms above her head, moving her shoulders in order to relax her muscles a bit. "That mission took a little longer than I had initially expected and I didn’t really have much time to sleep.”

“Oh, I see.” He nodded in understatement, remembering she had, indeed, talked about a mission Kakashi had selected her for. If he recalled it correctly, she had been sent to Amegakure so she could help the new governors establish a new health care system based on medical ninjas. It was something the Shinobi Alliance had decided to do together, and though it would cost her many days of going back and forth to the village hidden in the rain, Sakura seemed very excited about the outcome. “At what time did you get back?”

“I think it was around 2am or something like that… I just know Kakashi-sensei wasn’t there when I went to his office to report back.”

“2am?!” He sounded surprised, his brows arching at her words. No wonder why she looked that tired. “And at what time did your shift at the hospital started today?”

“My shift officially began at 7am, but I was already here by 6:30am. I had an important surgery scheduled so I came in earlier to prepare everything.”

His dark eyes grew wider now, and suddenly, he stopped walking. Sakura couldn’t really be serious at that moment. She was basically telling him that she had returned to the village from a long trip around 2 in the morning, and instead of taking at least the morning off, she was already up before 6am and operating at 7am.

Normal people shouldn’t push themselves that hard.

She had definitely spent way too much time alone with Naruto, he thought.

“You've barely slept, Sakura.”

“I know…” She said, yawning once more. “I'll get some sleep when I get home.”

“And at what time will that be?”

“It won’t take long. Probably around 7pm.” Her voice came out softly and an innocent tone lingered to it. Her eyes held no malice, and at that moment, he really thought she was even worse than the Dobe.

Maybe she had hit her it during the war or maybe it happened during her time spent training with her master, because there had to be something really wrong with that girl’s head. At that moment, she was barely being able to hold herself up, yawning every three seconds, and yet, there she was, all smiles on her face as she was ready to go out with him for lunch. Even knowing about that mission at least 1 week before she had to go, Sakura had decided that it would be okay to sign in for a 12h shift at the hospital the day after she got back. Couldn't she just haven been a decent person and allow herself to get some proper hours of sleep at least once?

Apparently, the answer was a big, irresponsible and tired no.

Perhaps, he wasn’t the only one who needed to have some sense knocked into him.

A couple of seconds went by until the pinkette finally realized the Uchiha had stopped in his tracks. She turned around, then, her heels also stopping, as her green eyes were now looking at him with a confused expression. She tilted her pink head to the left, her lips pressed in a thin line. “Why did you stop, Sasuke-kun?”

“Sakura…” He stopped talking, his mind still trying to think about his next words. He knew he had to be helpful without sounding rude, but he could feel an urge to call her annoying running through his veins. Even if he really hated the idea of ruining their little routine, the Uchiha knew better than to believe she didn’t have more pressing needs at that moment. “Do you still have a couch in your office?”

“Yes, I do. Why?”

“Hn.” He nodded, his hand now hiding inside the pocket of his dark pants. “Go back upstairs then and try to get some sleep. You still have most of your lunch break.”

“What?” Her eyes widened and she unconsciously approached him. At that moment, her confused expression melted into a childish pout, and he would be lying if he said that face didn’t make him feel a bit moved. “What about our lunch?”

“We can just reschedule. You need to get some rest if you want to last until 7pm.”

“This is ridiculous, Sasuke-kun. I’m fine. I’m a bit sleepy, sure, but I’m also hungry. Come on, it’s Tuesday…”

The way she was batting her eyelashes at him made his heart skip a beat. Even if her current appearance was affected by her lack of sleep, Sakura still held traces of the cute girl she has always been, and like before, it was still hard for him to say 'no' to her. She had always known how to be pretty convincing around him, and at that moment, even if he knew she could use a power nap— or any kind of nap, for the matter— it was still hard for him to simply give up on their lunch.

It felt selfish of him— futile, even, because, really, it was just lunch— but he really wanted to go out with her so they could spend some time together. They had a lot of catching up to do, and even if he would mostly just listen to her while she talked about something that had happened at the hospital or at her missions, it was always great to see her looking that happy.

After everything that had happened in the past 3 years, Sakura needed happy times in her life. Both of them did. And if their happy could be achieved by doing something so trivial as going out for lunch, then it was worth fighting for it.

However, if she could use that time in order to recover from a tiring mission, how could he deny her such thing?

“You really need to sleep, Sakura.” His voice came out firm and with no hesitation. His eyes were locked with hers, and there was no sign in him that indicated that he would back off from his decision. “It will be good for you if you can rest a little.”

“But—“

“No ‘but's. You look like you were hit by a boulder and we both know how distracted you get when you’re sleepy.”

Her lips parted at his statement, but no words came out from her mouth. Even if she wanted to answer him that she was fine and that she wasn’t really that sleepy, they both knew it would be useless. The Uchiha, if anything, is as stubborn as his blonde best friend, and at that moment, he wouldn’t simply be convinced by her white lies.

A soft smile crossed her lips, then, and she shyly looked down for a bit before her glance returned to his eyes. Her hands were now hiding behind her back, and she bit her lower lip before deciding to talk again. “I bet every girl would love to hear such delicate words regarding her looks.”

“Tch." He scoffed. “You know what I meant.”

“Yeah, I’m just messing with you.” She giggled, softly. “Are you sure it’s really okay?”

“It is, don’t worry. Try to get some sleep and I’ll go fetch you something to eat.”

“What?” She asked, confused, her sleepy head clearly not working well anymore.

“I'll go out and bring you some food. You weren’t really thinking about skipping lunch, were you, Sakura?”

“… Of course not.” She said, looking away from his judging stare. Sakura was clearly lying— or, at least, trying to— and if not for her need to sleep, he would’ve certainly scolded her for being that irresponsible.

Maybe next time, he thought.

“Hn, yeah, right…” He nodded, his eyes closing before he could start his way towards the exit. Their shoulders brushed as he walked past her, and though he knew she wanted to follow him, he was glad she didn’t. “I’ll be back soon with your food.”

“Fine.” She said, stretching the first syllable. “Next week lunch will be on me, then!”

“Aah.” He agreed, as he continued his way across the room.

“Oh, and Sasuke-kun!” She called his name, and immediately, he turned his head to look at her. She was smiling now, her arms crossed across her chest. “Don't forget to bring your food, too! We can still eat together in my office, right?” The cheerfulness lingering in her voice made his chest feel warmer, and even though her eyes were surrendering to her exhaustion, she still looked quite happy to have found a way for them to be together for lunch. She was smiling softly at him, and even if he had initially planned on bringing her food and leaving her to rest, Sakura had just convinced him to stay. With her joyful features and her sleepy expression, she had just managed to save their beloved tradition.

It should be okay if he stayed for just a little, right? Just until she could finish her lunch, and then he would be gone. Yes, it would certainly be okay.

“I guess we can. I’ll meet you there.”

“Hai!” She said, and he began walking again. “I’ll leave the window open for you!"

At her words, his lips formed a soft smirk as he finally exited the hospital. Though she would normally tell both him and Naruto not to invade her office through the window, on that day, Sakura figured it would be easier like that. His ears captured the sound of her heels clicking as she turned back, and he just hoped she could get some sleep before he returned with their food.

It was going to be a different Tuesday, for sure, but he figured it should be okay as long as they could be together in the end.

–––––––––

Though there weren't many people in the small restaurant down the hospital street, Sasuke made sure to take his time before ordering so she could have some more sleeping time. With his eyes always checking the clock, the raven haired boy made sure to calculate a decent amount of time— given the circumstances, of course— for her to sleep and eat properly before going back to work.

For they have gone eating together multiple times already, he knew about her taste for vegetables and something lighter for lunch, choosing to order her the special salmon with a bittersweet sauce that was made of honey, rice vinegar and soy sauce. It was a very popular dish according to the guy who worked there, and he hoped she would like his choice.

The food inside the take-out bag was still hot by the time he reached the hospital, and he made sure not to waste a single moment before climbing up the walls to her office. His chakra-coated sandals helped him make his way up, and in no time, he was at her window, which had been left open for him. He was very careful while entering, making sure not to bump on any of her belongings. As always, her office was filled with piles of papers and medical books, and he wondered how she even managed to find anything in the middle of that mess.

Once he was completely inside, his eyes wasted no time before they could start their search for her, and quickly, they found her small and delicate figure still asleep on the couch. She was sleeping soundly, her shallow breaths escaping her slightly parted lips in a smooth rhythm. Her chest was going up and down in a slow rhythm, and if he had never seen her breaking large trees with her bare hands, Sasuke would even believe she was just a defenseless and powerless girl.

Sakura looked really peaceful like that, he thought, as he looked at her with softness in his eyes. She was so calm and tranquil, clearly too busy sleeping to even notice his sudden presence in the room. Back when they were younger and they had to camp outside during their missions, she would always wake up at the slightest noises, but at that moment, he doubted she would wake up unless he literally shook her awake.

She was really tired, for sure. She was all curled up on her couch, her head resting against a crumpled jacket that was serving as a pillow for the moment. Her pink locks were falling forward, covering the seal on her forehead, and there was a small pout decorating her rosy lips.

Though he has never been the most sensitive person out there, it was undeniable that Sakura looked incredibly cute. His eyes— even if he was probably unaware— looked at her affectionately, and suddenly, a mix of tenderness and empathy coursed through him, and he had to hold back the urge to move her pink locks from her soft face.

He didn’t want anything to disturb her at that moment. She deserved those minutes of pristine silence, and he would do everything he could in order to protect them. After seeing her like that, it didn’t take long for the Uchiha to decide not to wake her up to eat, choosing, instead, to leave her food there so she could eat it later that day.

The salmon would turn cold, sure, but he figured that she could heat it some other time.

A soft smile took over his lips, and slowly, he made his way towards the couch where she was sleeping. For it was a chilly afternoon, he took his dark coat off, covering her small body in order to keep her warm. The piece of fabric weighted over her small figure, and he watched as she tugged it closer to her with a comfortable expression on her face. After that, the Uchiha found a spot next to her, and since they had decided that they would eat together, he believed that it would be okay if he just ate his lunch there, by her side before it also turned cold.

Slowly and carefully not to wake her up, he fished his sandwich from the paper bag, taking a bite from it and allowing the tomato, the cheese and the basil to mix inside his mouth. The sandwich tasted very good, indeed. It was just a simple thing anyone could prepare, but it still tasted pretty special for him. His eyes would eventually drift from his lunch to her sleepy, little head; and even if her small breaths were the only sounds filling the room, Sasuke couldn’t simply find the words to describe how domestic and pure that whole thing felt.

It felt so casual and intimate, in a way he hadn’t felt in years. His heart skipped a beat at the thought, bringing a shy smile to his lips, and he mentally thanked her for bringing back that innocence to his life. As the months went by, he realized how much that girl alone could do for him— even when she was doing nothing more than sleeping by his side— and he wondered how many other things could she bring into his new life if he just allowed her to.

In a matter of weeks, Sakura had turned his Tuesdays into pleasurable days, and now, he wondered what else could she do were she to take care of the rest of his week.

A sigh escaped his lips, and quickly, he brushed that thought away. After a couple of minutes, he had finally finished his sandwich, satisfied with his pleasurable lunch, and slowly, he allowed his head to fall back a little so he could rest it against the couch. He closed his eyes, for an instance, solely paying attention to the sound of her breaths, lulling him into a moment of pure bliss.

His head was feeling lighter, his breath was matching hers, and suddenly, he felt an odd warmth against his leg. It caught him by surprise, at first, but it didn’t take long before his body grew used to that small contact between them. A feeling of calmness invaded his body at that moment, and soon, he emptied his mind from whatever bad thought could even dare disturb that moment. He felt his conscious slipping from his grip, then, knowing very well what would happen if he just let it go.

He was going to fall asleep, he knew. He was going to fall asleep on a couch by her side, and even if that would probably be something hard to explain once they both woke up, Sasuke couldn’t find it in himself to care.

It felt too good. It felt right and even if he had had a good night of sleep himself, he figured he could allow himself to rest for a bit.

It was just a nap after lunch, after all. Was it really such a bad idea?

No. At least not at that moment. Not on that odd, yet ordinary, Tuesday.

fin.

#sasusaku #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku month 2020 #ssm20 #ssm20d03 #myssfics

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autumnblogs · 3 years

Text

Day 9: Troll Time

Time to get trolled.

https://homestuck.com/story/1527

This is the first of the events that I’ve noticed enough to talk about in Homestuck that alludes to the Alpha Kids. While Roxy on the other side of the scratch is the one actually responsible for the disappearance of Jaspers and the Pumpkins, at this point in the story, we have some pretty good suspects for exactly who disappeared both of them.

I could see myself guessing that Jade’s penpal is one of the trolls, but it wouldn’t be my first guess. I’m going to pay close attention to all of the events on one side of the scratch that are caused by the other side of the scratch, because my theory is that a Scratched Universe, more than anything else, is really terminated rather than truly being retroactively erased. Too much doesn’t make sense from a causal perspective (not necessarily from a temporally linear one) if a scratched universe is actually erased entirely, or even if it is closed off from the rest of existence - why can information enter and leave a Scratched Universe at all from an outside perspective, for example?

Are Side A Side B teleporters, appearifiers, and so on and so on, loopholes? Maybe it has something to do with the nature of Void, the Furthest Ring, and their seeming exclusion from the rules the rest of Paradox Space is required to follow.

The Doylist answer, which in Homestuck is also allowed to be the Watsonian answer, might be that while a Scratched Universe is *materially* erased, information about it is still permitted to propagate through narrative contrivances such as the author. Fenestrated planes can easily be considered narrative contrivances, but if we use this as our theory, it seems like Appearifiers and Sendificators would also have to be Narrative Contrivances (which I’m going to spell with a capital NC from here on out.) I... actually don’t have a problem with this hypothesis, so it’s what I’m going with. Also, since a friend of mine who’s reading this liveblog asked, I’m going to post a link to the tvtropes article on those two terms at the start of this paragraph for anyone who doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

Perhaps, given the proclivity for the Void to preserve lost information in the form of dreams and memories, and given the nature of Space as the medium through which events normally propagate (as well as the fundamental medium of storytelling from which all other storytelling mediums derive their medium-ness), and their proximity on the Aspect Wheel, Narrative Contrivances are objects which have are shared between these two domains - as objects associated with the Void, Narrative Contrivances are permitted to follow their own set of rules which to someone outside of the universe are obvious, but to anyone inside the universe are a complete black box, and as objects associated with Space, Narrative Contrivances function as a means by which to propagate information in such a way as to preserve causality, the logical topology of Paradox Space, and with them, the self-fulfilling nature of Paradox Space. They allow the world-line of objects travelling through the narrative to remain consistent, even when they would violate material geographical conventions.

This description of Narrative Contrivances makes me think a lot of things could be Narrative Contrivances, like First Guardians, for example, who can violate the speed of light.

This is all a lot of silly bullshit, but it’s fun to come up with theories to describe and predict Homestuck (and future Homestuck works, even though I’m not terribly invested in them.)

This has been a long Cold Open. More after the break.

https://homestuck.com/story/1529

John gets cyberbullied!

Man. Cyberbullying has really gone from being an individual concern to being an apocalyptic issue. Who knew? Maybe in writing the trolls and their cyberbullying as being inextricable from the apocalypse, Andrew Hussie predicted this.

I’m not trying to understate John’s issues by comparing them to stuff like massive social media disinformation campaigns - receiving Death Threats as a thirteen year old is terrifying, and on a general level, the fact that this kind of horrible shit was commonplace in the earliest days of social media should have been a big indicator that what was yet to come was going to be so, so much worse.

I’m also not trying to jocularly exaggerate the threat that almost completely lawless social media has on society. If you haven’t already, check out the excellent documentary The Social Dilemma, and then delete your Facebook account if you haven’t already (and since you’re reading my extremely anti-capitalist anti-patriarchy liveblog on tumblr, you’ve probably already done that. If you have, good for you!) And your twitter for good measure, come on, you know who you are. Mabe your tumblr too while you’re at it.

Cyberbullying is part of a larger theme in Homestuck, another one of those things that it’s Capital A About. As a work that is not only about growing up, but specifically about growing up in the information age, Homestuck is repeatedly about the ways that Social Media don’t just bring us together, but keep us apart from one another. Cyberbullying is one of the effects of Social Media pushing people apart - it’s so, so much easier to threaten to kill someone when you don’t have to look them in the eye while you’re doing it, and when you have the anonymity of a string of alphanumeric characters as a name to hide behind.

https://homestuck.com/story/1537

The Black Queen is a very bad woman. It’s always intrigued me that the Queens allow their counterparts’ agents free movement through their territory like this even on the eve (or the advent?) of full-scale war between their kingdoms. PM is just allowed to wander around Derse unsupervised.

I suppose that if even God and Satan can afford each other a bit of token civility while discussing the fates of sinners, so can Prospitians and Dersites.

https://homestuck.com/story/1542

@zeetheus John’s definitely proceeds Rose’s bluh.

Rose sips her Mom’s martini for the same reason that she later falls prey to alcoholism. Trying to grow up without help, Rose interprets the martini as a symbol of parental authority, the same way that she interprets the partaking of beverages in general as being a ritual of intimacy with her Mother. Empty signifiers.

https://homestuck.com/story/1549

Jack Noir’s grating voice is so outrageously distracting that it prevents itself as an intrusive thought in the Narrative for PM.

Actually, come to think of it, *all* of the Carapacians talk pretty much exclusively via narration. I wonder if that’s representative of an altered relationship with their narrative reality, which is the first time ever I’ve had that thought pretty much at all.

I always just chalked it up to one of the quirks of Andrew’s writing style, but especially when we take into account the fact that Homestuck is as metanarrative as it is, and that Carapacians are the only characters in Homestuck Proper who interface with the narrative prompt except for the audience, Andrew, and Caliborn himself, I can’t help but wonder. Maybe as living gaming abstractions, in spite of their limited intelligence and abilities, Carapacians have a unique relationship with the narrative laws of Paradox Space (perhaps in the same way that Narrative Contrivances do?)

https://homestuck.com/story/1569

Riffing a little more on the “Fetch Modus as analogous to thought processes” motif previously introduced, Jade’s excellent visualization abilities and vivid imagination serve her well as a Space Player, but tend to misfire, running wild, and seeing patterns where they don’t exist (intrusive thoughts make her see Johnny 5 in her Eclectic Bass and whatever the fuck mecha she’s about to accidentally imagine, I don’t know, I’m not a weeb.) Jade sure does think about robots a lot.

https://homestuck.com/story/1579

I have to say, I consider Terezi’s manipulative abilities to be genuinely pretty strong. I have never known a better way to strongarm me than by pointing out traits that I don’t know whether I feel good or bad about - it just terminates my thought processes.

Although in John’s case, it helps that he is, in fact, a weenie, a stooge, and most importantly, a nice guy. All these facts make him extra manipulatable.

https://homestuck.com/story/1584

I have no reason to believe everyone in Homestuck’s universe isn’t stupidly badass, but I choose to believe that no one is as stupidly badass as the leads because it makes me happy to imagine that these kids are just ridiculously OP superhumans.

(That said, it’s kind of fucked up the level of violence that these literal children are involved in, maybe I shouldn’t get so excited about it. Should we be enthusiastic about the kids’ triumph over their dangerous enemies? Horrified by the travails they are being put through? Probably both motherfuckin’ things.

https://homestuck.com/story/1588

I think about this page a lot.

Rose Lalonde is a very dangerous young lady. She is ruthless, pragmatic, calculating, and cool. She’s even a killer, and literally just killed two imps before fighting this Ogre!

Why is she choosing to show mercy to it now? Is she just trying to get Dave’s goat? Maybe the answer is, deep down, she doesn’t really want to hurt anyone or anything.

https://homestuck.com/story/1589

Kanaya and Dave have a great relationship and I love them as friends very much. I wish dearly that there was more of them in the webcomic. They have approximately the same relationship with authenticity, which is to say that they don’t have an insincere bone in their respective bodies, but practice insincerity nonetheless to impress someone they care about.

For Kanaya relating to Rose, I think it’s a lot more innocent.

https://homestuck.com/story/1590

The least eloquent character in Homestuck has his brief, and I’m pretty sure only encounter with the most eloquent character in Homestuck.

Poor, poor Tavros. While Rose is pretty much always on this level, it seems a lot more innocuous when she’s talking to her friends, or the more mean-spirited and (relatively) competent trolls, the way she treats Tavros almost feels like bullying because of how obviously pathetic he is.

That said, he turns right around, and invokes exactly what’s coming to him. Y’know as much as Tavros is an authentic abuse victim and Vriska gaslights him into thinking a lot of the bad things that happen to him are his fault, there are a lot of times where he does stupid shit that invokes the justifiable wrath of the people around him.

https://homestuck.com/story/1592

While I could pontificate about the fact that Kanaya and Rose are my favorite couple, and squee enthusiastically, instead I will call attention to the fact that, by way of mixing her metaphors, Kanaya has been the victim of an authorial pun - she’s a Fruit Ninja. (Unless Fruit Ninja didn’t exist at the time of writing? It may very well not have.)

https://homestuck.com/story/1596

As the Page of Breath, Tavros sucks at communicating. Here, he sucks at communicating because in spite of his objectively pretty sick rhymes... he is talking to someone who just can’t be arsed.

https://homestuck.com/story/1602

This is one of those absurd moments that at first blush seems meaningless, but I think helps to decipher the kinds of things that John Egbert cares about. It’s one of the moments where he ritualizes an action that one of his heroes takes - John Egbert thinks that Nic Cage is cool, and wants to be like him, so he roleplays Nic Cage for a little while.

https://homestuck.com/story/1603

We’ve barely met the trolls, and they are *already* using the humans as a convenient method to troll each other instead of staying on task.

Karkat also establishes his love of RomComs before his introduction even rolls around.

https://homestuck.com/story/1618

Conceding ground to implacable enemies is generally the correct means to win in Homestuck, usually by getting them to destroy themselves or each other purely by their own unsustainably wicked or stupid conduct. Only a being as powerful as Lord English is sufficient to destroy the Significance-hoarding antagonist that is Vriska, as she threatens to overshadow everyone else in the universe by her own inflated self-importance. Only Vriska, so arbitrarily lucky, could possibly get into position to destroy Lord English. They were made for each other. They deserve each other.

One of my favorite dialogues in the whole comic. Man, I sure love Act 4. There’s something indescribable about the dialogue Andrew writes for this part of the comic. Homestuck at its best whiplashes from silly to scary to heartbreaking to heartwarming, and back to silly again, from beautiful to ugly, and I don’t think that even Act 5, as it piles up layers upon layers, well past the number of parts needed to make a whole, captures the essence of Homestuck as well as does Act 4.

Homestuck is different in every part, of course, and for everyone who says that Act 4 is peak Homestuck you will meet someone who says that Acts 1 through 3 were peak Homestuck, or who says that Act 5 was Peak Homestuck, or that Act 6 was Peak Homestuck. I do not mean to demean any portion of the work by saying that Act 4 is my favorite. The things I like in Homestuck the most are just the most themselves in this portion of the story.

https://homestuck.com/story/1627

I’m feeling less and less intelligent as I read more and more of Homestuck, because honestly, my theories read less like honest-to-god insights, and more like somebody who just wasn’t paying any fucking attention. Here, Jade spells out basically what I’ve been saying.

https://homestuck.com/story/1640

We’ll pause here for the evening. Reading was a little sparse today, but it’s a good place to leave off, especially since for some of these I wrote just stacks of theorizing.

Until tomorrow, Cam signing off, Mostly alive except for a bit of a cough, and not alone.

#liveblogging #commentary #watson and doyle #narrative contrivances #trolls

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captains-log-reviews · 4 years

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Disney’s Peter Pan (1953)

Summary/Overview:

I’ve been considering a Hook-themed review blog for some time now, and what better way to start off than with the classic 1953 Disney film? Originally slated to be Disney’s second animated film after Snow White, the idea for a production of Peter Pan was in Walt’s mind long before it hit the big screen. Walt himself had played Peter in a school play as a boy and had retained a fondness for the story ever since. The first major film version to feature a boy (Bobby Driscoll) in the titular role, Disney’s Peter Pan has since become perhaps even more widely known than Barrie’s original. That being said, I think it’s probably unnecessary to give much in the way of a summary, but for the sake of developing a consistent format for my reviews, here’s the super quick version:

Wendy Darling, a young girl with an active imagination and a love for storytelling, is distraught when her practical father decides that it is time for her to grow up and move out of the nursery with her brothers. Later that night, after her parents have gone out, Peter Pan—the flying boy hero of Wendy’s stories—shows up at her window and offers to take her and her brothers to Neverland, a magical island with mermaids, “Indians,” and pirates where they will never grow up. Unfortunately the kids get caught up in the plans of Captain Hook, who wants revenge on Peter for cutting off his hand and feeding it to a crocodile. Ultimately, Hook captures the children and nearly kills Peter with a bomb in the guise of a present from Wendy, but Tinkerbell, Peter’s loyal fairy friend, saves him just in the nick of time, allowing Peter to free the children from Hook’s crew and fight the captain in a final duel that results in Hook being chased off into the sunset by the crocodile. Wendy and her brothers return home safely, and Wendy realizes that she isn’t so afraid of growing up anymore...only to have her father admit that maybe holding onto her childhood a little bit longer wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.

What I Liked:

Those of you who followed me over here from my other Hook blog, not-wholly-unheroic, already know that I am more than slightly biased when it comes to Disney’s Hook. I distinctly remember the first time I saw him on screen when I was twelve. The sequel had just come out on video, and ABC was doing its usual Sunday Disney movie (and advertising) by showing the original Peter Pan one weekend, followed by the sequel the next. I was bored and had never watched the film before, so I decided to give it a shot...and I was instantly struck by how different Hook was from any Disney villain I’d previously encountered. While most of the classic villains are motivated by greed, vanity, or the desire for power, Hook’s feud with Pan is at least somewhat justified considering he not only lost a hand but also faces the constant threat of the crocodile as a result of our supposed hero’s actions. Additionally, prior to Peter Pan, Disney’s major villains (Queen Grimhilde/The Evil Queen, Lady Tremaine, the Queen of Hearts) were typically rather flat and lacking in personality. We see only their wicked side (or in the case of “Man” in Bambi, we don’t see them at all!). Hook is a major departure from this trend in that while he is clearly made out to be the bad guy, we also see him in moments of fear, weakness, and self-doubt. We see him sick and in pain and ready to give up at times. Suddenly, he isn’t just a villain anymore... He’s a person we can empathize with. Walt himself recognized that the audience would “get to liking Hook” would not want him to die as he does in Barrie’s canon, opting instead to have him “going like hell” to get away from the crocodile but ultimately still very much alive at the end of the film.

Aside from Hook himself, I love the dynamic he has with Mr. Smee. While Hook admittedly doesn’t treat Smee well, there is clearly a bond of trust between them. Early on in the film, for instance, Smee prepares to shave Hook with a straight razor. It’s a moment that is ultimately used for comedic effect, but when one considers that Hook has a crew full of literal cutthroats, it says a lot about Smee that Hook feels totally at ease with this man putting a blade to his neck. Smee repeatedly attempts to intervene to save Hook when he doesn’t have to, and Hook unfailingly looks to Smee when he’s afraid for his life or when he needs to send someone out to complete an important mission for him. It’s a villain/sidekick dynamic that borders on friendship, and I think it adds a lot to the film and to Hook’s complexity as a character.

As far as artistic choices go, it is a rather minor thing, but I love that they kept the stage tradition of using the same actor for both Mr. Darling and Captain Hook, giving the film a rather dreamlike feel and subtly reinforcing the enmity Wendy feels toward her father in real life as she faces off against Hook in the Neverland. Speaking of the actor, Hans Conried isn’t just voice for Hook, as many would assume... He IS Hook as much as any live-action actor could be. I love the old hand-drawn animation style and how they used to use the actors as live-action reference models. (You can see some shots of Hans as the reference model vs the final images of Hook in the film here.) If you’ve ever seen a recording of Hans in one of his other roles, you’ll notice he doesn’t just SOUND like Hook...he makes the same facial expressions (particularly in how he speaks with his eyebrows) and hand/arm motions. It’s small details like this that make Hook (and all the characters) more human and show just how much time, effort, and love the animators put into their work.

What I Didn’t Like:

RACISM. With a capital “R.” There’s no sugar-coating it. Unfortunately, Disney’s film falls victim one of the many problematic tropes of the time when it was made and portrays the island’s native characters as highly caricatured, ignorant, and—in the case of Tiger Lily—romantically exotic people. Their signature song, “What Made the Red Man Red” is lyrically painful to modern listeners with any sense of decency, and the villagers’ character design—from their bright red skin to their large noses and often extreme body shapes (very fat or pencil thin)—along with their badly broken English is highly uncomfortable, to say the least. On the other hand, Tiger Lily, the most realistically drawn native character, is shown dancing flirtatiously for Peter and subsequently rubbing noses with him in what is meant to be a sort of native kiss (based on the concept of the “Eskimo kiss” which in and of itself is not a politically correct term).

Aside from the glaringly obvious issue of racism, my only real complaint with the Disney film is the music. While the songs are pretty standard for films of the day, I personally don’t find most of the music particularly memorable or catchy. “You Can Fly” is alright, I suppose, but the next few songs have their issues. “Following the Leader” and “What Made the Red Man Red” both have racist undertones, and Wendy’s lullaby, “Your Mother and Mine” puts the kids to sleep for a reason... It’s sweet but rather boring and drags on for far too long to keep the audience’s attention. Less time on the lullaby and more pirate sea shanties, please!

On the flip side, Hook is arguably the first Disney villain to get his own theme song, which is pretty cool. The original pirate song (which you can find here) is a bit more sedate than “The Elegant Captain Hook” we end up with and focuses more on the joys of pirating in general than why Hook, specifically, is someone the kids should want to work for. Personally, I’m glad they chose the song that they did, though I do wish they’d given Hook more lines as originally planned. (You can find the lyrics to the full version here.)

Would I recommend it?

Despite its flaws, Disney’s Peter Pan has had a major impact on the legacy of Peter Pan and how we view the characters as well as Neverland itself. It has long been a personal favorite of mine and acted as a gateway into the fandom for me. It introduced me to Hook as a likable, sympathetic, and complex villain and I’ll always be grateful for that. I definitely recommend it to anyone entering the fandom, those with a fondness for the nostalgia of classic Disney films, and kids at heart of all ages.

Overall Rating:

As much as I love the film and want to give it a perfect score, I’d be remiss if I didn’t deduct at least a few points for the depiction of the “Indians.” Otherwise a lovely version of the story so... 4/5 stars

#captain's log reviews #disney peter pan #peter pan disney #peter pan 1953 #disney captain hook #captain hook disney #reviews #disney reviews #movie reviews #film reviews #captains-log-reviews

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arisunakayama · 4 years

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Can We Just Talk? Human!Spinel X Fem!Reader (College!Au) Pt. 2

Walking through the door that led you into your next class, you had reached your seat before the bell had rung. You set your textbook and notebook down, plopping into your seat before letting out a long exhale while you began to slouch into your seat.

'What a great way to start class...' You thought to yourself before a voice right beside your seat had called out your name, catching your attention.

"Hey, (Y/n). You good? You look like something had spooked you on your way to class." Steven asked, his body twisted slightly to look at you as an eyebrow was raised.

"Yeah yeah... I just... Ran into an old friend. It's nothing bad don't worry about it. I just..." You trail off, becoming quieter as you sigh once more.

"Are you sure Hon? It looks like you and your 'old friend's' run in didn't go well." A voice pipe up from the row behind you and Steven.

Turning around you see a familiar face with rainbow color dreads. Bismuth was leaning over her desk looking down at you as her eyebrows were furrowed together.

Bismuth was someone who seemed to stand out to you a lot. Maybe it was because of her beautiful rainbow dreads that had her real hair color fading from the roots and down to her ends into the colorful dye that was in put into her hair. She kept it out of her face with a purple bandanna. Sometimes she'd put it up in a ponytail just so that they'd stay in place whenever she was working on her project in her Wood Shop Class.

She also seemed to have a really soft heart for her friends. You remembered the time she reacted when she had seen her friends once again after coming to the same college as you and the Crystal Gems.

"It didn't... But, no one got hurt at least." You smile sheepishly, laughing nervously before the smile on your lips turned into a frown. "We just had a little argument, that's all..."

"Y'know (Y/n), you're going to have to talk to her again someday right? I mean, you do live on the same dorm floor as 'she' does. It's not good for the both of you to be acting like this with one another." Bismuth crossed her arms, her words getting to you making you look to the side with guilt welling up in your chest.

As much as you didn't want to admit it, she was right. You had to talk to her one day, whether you liked it or not. It wasn't fair to how you were treating Spinel after all that's happened to her. And you acting the way you were with her wasn't helping with getting over her past trauma.

Yet every time you try to even talk to her, you'd freeze up or your words get stuck in your throat. But what made you stop trying to talk to her was the aching feeling in your chest whenever you'd see Spinel and Peep together. Even if you tried so hard to not assume what was going on between them, the ache in your chest along with an overwhelming emotion would stop you from.

You close your eyes for a second before looking at both Steven and Bismuth with a half smile and said that same lie you always tell them.

"Guys, I'm fine, really!" You knew they weren't convinced. Their eyes giving you that look that you've always seen them give you. The look of pity as you lie through your teeth over and over again. But the lie was enough for them to stop pushing for more.

◕✿◕✿◕✿◕✿◕✿◕✿◕✿◕

As class had flew by leading you into the next break time, lunch, you had sat down at a table with your friends that consisted of Garnet, Pearl, Peridot and Lapis.

Peridot was currently sitting by Lapis as she scrolled through her phone, looking for anything new in her feed. Her lime green eyes flickering back and forth from whatever she was looking at on the screen.

She was pretty smart honestly despite being glued to the screen of her electronics. But despite all of that, Peridot could be sweet. It even went with Lapis.

Lapis was actually pretty untrusting with you the first few months of you being in her group. If anything, she didn't really let you in until after maybe a month ago. But once she let you into her little circle of friends, she also became pretty sweet towards you. You still gave her space though due to what happened between her and Jasper...

"So (Y/n), I heard from Steven that you had an encounter from Spinel again." Peridot piped up making you internally curse at her for bringing up what happened.

"What? Did she do anything to you?" Pearl looked at you. The concern in her eyes as her eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah, I'm fine. We pretty much had talk which was... Cut short." You sit up straight while you scratched the back of your neck, mumbling the last part.

"(Y/n)... " Garnet had taken off her sunglasses, her Ruby ans Sapphire eyes looking straight into you (e/c) eyes. "You're going to have to talk to her at some point. You do know this right?"

You did know this and you honestly didn't want it to come to that. At least right now that is. It took you a moment to look back at Garnet.

"Yeah... I know..." You sighed.

"Okay averting this topic, what's everyone doing after school?" Lapis piped in, her head resting on her hand as she looked at everyone.

“Steven had asked me and Garnet for help on some homework he had. So we’re going to help him after school.” Pearl smiled. The both of them, along with Amethyst, had known Steven for quite some time actually along with his mother, Rose. They’ve always viewed him as their kid or as their little sibling when it came to raising Steven with his father, Greg Universe.

"I might just go back to the dorm since there's nothing really to do honestly..." You hummed and you closed your eyes for a few seconds. “Just probably go and watch some YouTube or go look at some stuff on Tumblr.”

"Just hang out in our dorm then." Peridot said, not looking up from her phone as she continued to scroll through her feed.

"You sure? I don't want to interrupt anything that'll go on between you and Lapis here." You grinned as both Lapis and Peridot glared at you, their face flushing before Lapis punched you in the arm.

"Ow ow! Okay I'm sorry!" You laughed, rubbing your arm while Pearl and Garnet chuckled.

"You're not coming into our dorm anymore..."

"No! No! Lapis I'm sorry!" You cry, laughing even harder than before making her roll her eyes and push you away while she snickered.

“Excuse me... (Y/n). Could I talk to you?” A familiar voice piped up from behind.

You had twisted your body to see who had called you only for your eyes to meet familiar pink one. Peep had smiled down at you softly as she cocked her head to the side. Your eyes wide a you felt your throat closing up a bit.

“O-Oh... H-Hi, Peep...” You muttered out, giving her a nervous chuckle as you had made yourself small. “What did you need to talk about..?”

“It’s better if I talk to you in private, considering it’s between you and you know who...”

‘Fuck.... How did I know that she was going to talk about her...’ You mentally screamed in your head. A soft whine had escaped from your mouth as you looked away.

“...Sure um...” You look back at your friends “I’ll be right back in a bit. If not then I’ll see you guys after school.” The four had all looked at each other before looking back you, their heads nodding as they gave you a look telling you to be careful. After that, you had gotten up from your seat and looked back at Peep who motioned you to follow her. Which you did.

The both of you had ended up in an empty classroom, you entering through the door before closing it behind you with a soft click. You look back at Peep.

“So, what did you want to talk about... With me and Spinel..?”

“How come you keep avoiding Spinel? She keeps wondering what she did that made you drift away from us... From her?” Peep had frowned. Her eyes staring into yours hoping that you’d give her a straight answer. But instead you just stared at her, your (e/c) eyes staring straight into her light pink ones. A sigh had escaped through your mouth before you took a step towards her, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder as you never left your stare on her eyes.

Might as well tell her some of the truth of why you left.

“Peep... As much as I hate to admit this, I’m a terrible communicator. You know this... But, I left because I felt like I was a third wheel between you and Spinel. I felt as if I was being left out whenever I’d hangout with you guys...” You weren’t entirely wrong. You gave her a sheepish smile only for it to fall into a frown as you looked to the side, guilty for not being able to talk to them like you should’ve. For leaving them confused.

“I’m a terrible friend, aren’t I? Especially for leaving without saying a thing to you guys. Especially to Spinel considering what happened to her between her and Rose...” You hung your head low as Peep looked at you with wide eyes.

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” A voice had come from the doorway, startling both you and Peep. You turn your head towards the doorway and paled seeing the one person you were currently trying to avoid.

It was Spinel.

#spinel #spinel steven universe #spinel x reader #spinel x oc #steven universe #steven universe pearl #pink pearl steven universe #pink pearl #garnet #garnet steven universe #peridot steven universe #steven universe lapis #can we just talk fanfic

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choicesfanatic86 · 4 years

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If Only: Chapter 18

DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, except characters unique to my story. Those belong to me. ;)

PAIRINGS: Liam x Riley (MC)

SUMMARY: And they're off to Cordonia! Riley and Liam have a heart to heart about what to expect when they arrive in Cordonia.

TAGS - If you would like to be tagged for If Only, please message me. I am reworking all of my fan fiction, and I know that a lot of people may no longer be in the fandom, or maybe they no longer want to follow If Only. If that is the case, I didn't want to unnecessarily tag someone. So please, let me know if you would like to be tagged for future updates of this piece.

PERMANENT TAG LIST: @umccall71 @drakelover78 @jamielea81 @bobasheebaby @speedyoperarascalparty @hopefulmoonobject @theroyalweisme @gardeningourmet @jlouise88 @hamulau @traeumerinwitzhelden @blackcatkita @mrs-simmy @kaitycole @alwaysthebestchoice @mfackenthal @trr-duchessofvaltoria @pbchoicesobsessed @liamxs-world @flyawayboo @devineinterventions2 @ranishajay @jayjay879 @alepowell @greyeyedsmile14 @mspaigemoore @princesaakl @annekebbphotography @angelicfangirl @katurrade @cordoniaqueensworld @ao719

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11/25/2019 - It has been over a year since I updated If Only, and I feel absolutely sick about it. I apologize for not updating as regularly as I should have. I came back in May with the intent to keep writing and bring new stories to the fandom, but my world got rocked with a horrible family situation. I went MIA initially because I had a family emergency come up in September of 2018. My father was diagnosed with stage 4 esophageal cancer. He became stable at the beginning of May which prompted me to feel a bit reinvigorated to write again. We were thrown for a loop when he passed away suddenly and unexpectedly at the end of May after a brief period of stabilization. His kidneys shut down and he went into respiratory failure. Ironically, the cancer may have weakened him, but it wasn't his cause of death. I was a wreck. I've slowly gone through the grieving process and wanted to try my hand at writing again. I can't promise you I'll be consistent, but I'm going to try. Thank you all for the amazing support and thoughts. Thank you for your sweet reviews. I will be going through all of them. <3

Chapter 18

Riley was certain of one thing – she would always find herself awestruck at being able to fly on a private airplane. She hadn’t traveled all that much before, but when she did, it was a pain. The astronomical cost of airline tickets, the long lines, the long list of TSA security no-nos that she could never seem to grasp . . . all of it made the whole prospect of travelling more of a nuisance than anything else. Traveling with Liam, on the other hand, had been nothing but a dream since the moment they got to the airport. Liam once again took charge guiding her to where they needed to check in. Things at the airport had gone just as smoothly as they had when they left Las Vegas. Actually, it had gone even smoother than Las Vegas since they were flying out internationally and that terminal had not been nearly as crowded as the domestic terminals. Liam once again breezed by as Riley trailed behind him, still unaccustomed to the life of private jet-setting. She still found the entire thing to be a bit surreal. What normally would have been a two hour process had only taken them twenty minutes. Apparently, the life of royalty had some major perks.

A little over an hour later, Riley found herself sitting on the private plane that was scheduled to take them to Cordonia. She stared absently out of the plane’s window as she contemplated how differently her life had ended up than what she had planned out over the years. For one, she never, ever saw herself sitting on a private plane as they waited for the all clear for takeoff. For another, she never thought she’d get married to a complete stranger on a whim – in Vegas, no less. Then again, she also never thought she’d ever meet someone like Liam. She bit her lip lightly as she watched him joke around with the flight crew. Apparently, he knew all of them quite well. They weren’t treating him like a prince, but rather an old friend who they were excited to see. But that was the thing about Liam – despite his royal roots, he seemed like such an average, ordinary, everyday guy. He was genuinely a good guy - somebody you could sit around and have hours of conversation with and never got bored. She smiled and watched as he fawned over pictures of one of the flight attendant’s newborn grand-daughter. He never fell short of amazing her. She had always pictured herself winding up with some sort of science geek, who, like her, had spent years focusing on his education to land the perfect job. Liam was completely different. The connection they shared was one in a million. The time they spent together alone in her apartment had further solidified that fact. She’d have been foolish to let him slip away from her in Vegas, and if she had, she’d likely never find that sort of connection with someone else ever again. Their relationship wasn’t something that you could just dismiss as being a spur of the moment, one-time fling. He made her feel alive again, and she loved how he had forced her to reevaluate the life she was living, and helped her to see that none of it was what she wanted. It felt as if they had known each other for years instead of only a few days. There was just something about Liam that brought out her desire for an exciting new adventure. For the first time in years, she didn’t have a plan, and it scared the shit out of her. There was no denying the fact that she felt like she was swimming in the deep end of the pool without any sort of lifejacket. But, for some reason, she was okay with that, because she knew she’d have Liam by her side to help keep her afloat.

Riley’s smile grew as he chatted with a different flight attendant about their travel plans when they got to Cordonia. He was going on and on about how he wanted to take her to their country house to show her the orchards of apple trees. She looked around the bustling plane – apart from the three flight attendants she had seen, she had counted four more flight attendants and two pilots on their flight. She shook her head in disbelief. It was crazy to think that all nine members of the flight crew were aboard just for them. It was hard to believe that this was her life now.

Liam grasped one of the male attendants on the shoulder as he headed back over to where she was sitting. “You look rather deep in thought,” he murmured as he sidled into the seat next to her.

She smiled softly. “Just thinking about what a whirlwind this has all been. I guess it’s just hard to believe that we won’t have to listen to crying babies or fighting for space for our carry-ons in the overhead compartment.”

“I admit, those are things I have never had to worry about when I traveled,” he smirked. “But I can imagine those sorts of things would be rather inconvenient.”

“Exceptionally so,” she chuckled. “You’re so amazing with people, Liam. The way you talk to them and treat them with the utmost respect regardless of your status,” Riley looked at him in admiration. “You’re just a genuine, sweet man,” she said, clasping her hand in his.

He looked at her adoration. “I’ve known all of them for years – since I was old enough to travel with my father,” he smiled. “They’re like another set of family members. The older woman I was talking to? Dolores? She just welcomed her first granddaughter. My father gave her some time off to spend with the new baby,” he explained. “Being royal doesn’t make you any less human. Having compassion and being respectful are just decent things to do,” he explained as he squeezed her hand back.

“Well, you don’t see a lot of that in New York,” Riley mused. “And I’ll be honest, people can become a bit snooty when power goes to their head. Trust me.” She thought of the many rude people she encountered as she walked along the streets of New York City. There was always some guy in a total rush with a cell phone pressed against his ear and a briefcase swinging from his hand pushing his way down the sidewalk trying to get the next available cab. New York people were savage.

Liam chuckled at her observation. “Quite true, love. I assure you, that is just how I was raised. I just couldn’t live with myself if I treated anyone with anything but the respect that they deserve.”

“You are one in a million, Liam Rys.” She smiled broadly, squeezing his hand tightly.

“As are you, Riley Rys,” he winked at her.

She blushed as she changed the subject. “So, do we have any layovers or are we landing straight in Cordonia?”

He shook his head. “No stopovers, that’s not how private jets work, love. The flight should take about eight hours tops,” he explained. “We’ll be arriving in Cordonia at around 7:30 in the morning.”

“Wow, that early?” Riley asked.

“The time difference will take a bit getting used to, especially since you’ve lived in New York your whole life,” he explained. “The early arrival will be beneficial to us, I’m sure. I doubt the press will have caught wind that we’re arriving that early. It might give us enough time to get you to the palace without the mad rush of press on our tails,” he reasoned.

“The press?” She asked, her eyes widening.

Just as Liam was about to explain further, the pilot came over the loudspeaker announcing that they would be preparing for takeoff. Riley inhaled deeply as she felt the power and speed of the plane push forward as it readied itself for take off. She was momentarily distracted from the idea of the press and what exactly he meant about them being on their tails.

When they reached a comfortable elevation, the captain came over the loudspeaker again.

“Your Majesties, thank you for joining us this afternoon. We expect the flight to take roughly eight hours, and we are expecting clear skies and smooth travel. Should you need anything, please let any one of our staff attendants know and they will be glad to assist you with whatever you may need,” the voice boomed.

“Was he talking to me, too?” She asked, her eyes widening once more.

“Well, yes, love. You are the future Queen of Cordonia. It is only right that he address you as such,” he explained.

Riley knew that marrying Liam automatically meant that she was royalty, too, but having someone actually refer to her as one was crazy.

“Your Majesties, would you like a beverage? Wine? Or champagne perhaps?” Dolores, the attendant Liam had been talking to earlier asked.

“Love?” Liam asked.

“Um, maybe just some water?” She asked quietly.

“Of course, Your Majesty. Prince Liam?”

“I’m fine, Dolores,” he smiled brightly at the older woman. “Maybe when we have our meals I’ll have a bit of scotch,” he added.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” she acquiesced as she poured Riley a glass of water.

“This is surreal,” she murmured, mostly to herself.

“Love, this is what you have to look forward to each time you travel,” he laughed. “With our busy schedules, it only seems right that we travel as comfortable as possible. After all, we don’t know when we’ll have a spare moment to ourselves again,” he said knowingly.

She nodded nervously, her hands fiddling about in her lap. That’s actually what was worrying her. What was life going to be like now that they were heading out of their Las Vegas and New York bubbles?

Liam leaned over, clasping his hands around hers and smiled. “You’re fine, love,” he murmured encouragingly. “Now that I have you held captive in an airplane . . . ” he trailed off, eyeing her a bit nervously.

“What?” She asked; worry once again coursed through her body.

“Are you ready to talk about what you’ve signed up for?” He shot her a nervous smile. He looked as if he were waiting for her to jump ship . . . or in this case, plane . . . any second.

She eyed him suspiciously, taking a large gulp of her cold water. “You act as if I just signed up to go to war or something,” she chuckled anxiously. “I know you don’t want to scare me, Liam, but I think I can handle whatever they’re going to throw my way,” she said. Think being the operative word. She talked a good game and tried her best to calm the quaking nerves inside of her, but in truth, she was absolutely petrified. She had no clue how to be a princess . . . let alone a queen when that time inevitably arrived. How on earth was she going to manage it all while still getting to know her new husband?

“I don’t mean to sound so cryptic,” he explained apologetically. “I suppose I just wanted to prepare you for what might happen when we arrive,” he said vaguely.

“Are you expecting a grand welcome?” She arched an eyebrow.

“Well, possibly,” he admitted.

Her eyebrow arched a bit higher. “Oh,” she said nervously.

“To be quite honest, I’m not sure what to expect.” He ran his hand nervously over the back of his neck, and looked at her bashfully. “Our early arrival does buy us some time as I mentioned, but I’m honestly not too sure what the Cordonian people have been told. I’m not sure if they’ve publically announced the end of my engagement to Olivia,” he said uncertainly. “In fact, I’m not sure if they even announced that we’ve gotten married.”

“And if they have?” Riley asked.

“If they have, then you can expect the press to be hounding us until they get a printable story,” he sighed. “It’s the nature of the press, love. They have a hunger for a scandal . . . the more prominent the person, the more desirable the story,” he said glumly.

“And being the heir to the Cordonian throne, any story about you would be explosive,” Riley said, understanding where he was going with his explanation. The press wouldn’t let the story rest until they had every single detail about the end of his engagement to Olivia and their subsequent marriage in Vegas. They were in for one hell of a welcome if that were the case. She shook her head hesitantly. The idea of being hounded by the press wasn’t something she was particularly looking forward to. She had never paid attention to those sordid, trashy tabloids back home. She had always thought that it was grossly negligent to publish half-facts and over-exaggerations. This was the conversation that she had been worried about. Up to this point, everything had been a vague and distant idea that she had formulated inside of her head, but as Cordonia loomed closer and closer in front of them, at some point they’d have to discuss the elephant in the room, and apparently, Liam had decided that “some point” was right then and there.

“I wish I could say that this will be easy, love . . . but it won’t. I wish I could take the burden of the scrutiny of the press and the people and my family away so that you would never have to endure a single unpleasant moment. But having lived this life in the limelight for as long as I have . . . I know that many will have . . . reservations,” he explained hesitantly.

“Reservations?” She asked, slightly confused.

“They may publish some untrue things about you . . . they may suspect we got pregnant out of wedlock, hence the quickie marriage . . . they may even publish some nasty, untrue remarks about your friends and family . . .” he trailed off.

She winced a little. She had never really had a thick skin growing up. She had always been sensitive, and she didn’t like to be teased or taunted. The idea of having a whole nation scrutinize her every move, made her physically ill. The idea of having someone critique how she acted, what she wore, who she spent time with . . . it all felt too much. But to have that extend to her family and friends? She couldn’t imagine dealing with that on top of everything else.

Liam continued. “Olivia was a well-liked Duchess, and although the marriage was arranged, I’d imagine that many may not take kindly to the broken engagement . . . and our subsequent union,” he reasoned.

“Like Bertrand,” she arched a questioning eyebrow.

“Yes, like Bertrand. Some of the people of Cordonia are traditionalists. They may not be so welcoming to the fact that I have married someone not of the country. Not of Europe for that matter,” he explained. “But I have no doubt that once they get to know you . . . the you I fell in love with . . . all of their reservations will disappear,” he said optimistically.

“I hope so,” she said meekly. “I know it’s going to be tough . . . I just don’t want people to hate me, you know?”

“They won’t hate you, love,” he chuckled. “How would they hate the most amazing girl I’ve ever met?”

Riley sighed, leaning closer into him. “You were engaged, Liam. To a woman you have had a friendship with for most of your life. Are you telling me that she’ll warmly open her arms and welcome me to the palace?”

Liam grimaced in reply. “Well, obviously not. Olivia will prove to be a difficulty. Of that, I’m quite sure.”

“And your parents?” Riley added. “You got into quite the tiff with your father before we left.”

“As did you,” he reminded her. “My father and stepmother will come around. Once they realize that Cordonia’s future will not be in any jeopardy and that the monarchy will continue, they will warm to the idea of our marriage. It will take time, love.”

She nodded. She sucked in a long breath. She needed to be strong. As long as she had Liam by her side, she knew they’d be able to overcome whatever difficulties that were headed their way.

“We’re going to get through all of this together, Riley. I will never forget how much you’re giving up for me . . . for us,” he said passionately.

She leaned in for a soft kiss. Liam deepened the kiss before pulling himself away. “I have such a hard time controlling myself around you,” he said breathily.

“Let me distract you. Tell me about Cordonia. Not about the press or the bad stuff we might encounter,” she shook her head. “If I’m moving to a brand new country, I should know everything there is about it. The internet wasn’t too helpful. I guess it’s so small that not a lot of people actually know a whole lot about it,” she frowned.

He nodded. “It is small, but I assure you it has a rich history. A history that you and I are now a part of,” he smiled. “I’ll happily answer any questions you’d like about Cordonia, but I think that the best way to get to know our beautiful country is to experience it first hand in person,” he said.

“I’m looking forward to seeing everything,” she agreed. After a brief moment, she asked another question. “So, can I get a job when we get there? Or is that sort of not allowed. I just don’t want people thinking I’m some sort of gold-digger. Your friends already accused me of being a crown-chaser, and I don’t want people thinking that I don’t want to work . . . because I kind of do? I mean, I don’t really know what I could do considering I have a degree in Biology . . . and I’m a medical school drop out . . . but there has to be something right?” she rambled out

Liam stared at her as if she had three heads. She supposed it was a silly question. Did royalty work? She tried to think back on the lives of various royal figures - did Princess Diana have a job? What about Princess Eugenie? How about Duchess Kate? Surely an independent woman such as Duchess Megan Markle kept a job? She frowned, she was being ridiculous. Of course they didn’t have jobs. They were too busy jet setting alongside their husbands. She frowned at the thought. She had never seen herself as being a woman who relied on a man to do all of the hard work. She hadn’t liked when Liam’s friends had thought of her as being a crown-chaser, and she certainly didn’t want the rest of the public thinking the same thing. Shouldn’t she be able to prove that she’s way more than just some woman that Liam met in Las Vegas? She wanted to contribute in someway . . . even if she didn’t know exactly how she could contribute.

“You don’t have to work, love. I told you that. You will want for nothing the moment you set foot inside the palace,” he assured her.

“That’s such a strange concept,” she frowned. “Not working . . .I mean, I went to college, got my degree, held quite a few jobs over the years, and now I just . . . do nothing?” she pursed her lips. “I don’t want people to think that I married you for anything other than love,” she said softly.

“Being Queen is a job in itself Riley,” he explained. “You’ll be expected to plan social functions, attend political meetings, coordinate various social programs, meet with different international figures . . . although the compensation process might be quite different than what you’re used to, you will very much have a job in Cordonia,” He rationalized.

She nodded, although she still had a hard time wrapping her head around the whole concept. “So the whole social functions thing . . . is that like party planning?”

“Oh, love. It is far more than just a party. Why don’t I give you a brief history of Cordonia and some perspective on the monarchy and perhaps then you’ll understand a bit more about how important the social season is to the Cordonian people?”

She nodded eagerly, sitting up in her chair. “I’d like that a lot actually. I feel like I’m jumping out of a plane without a parachute when it comes to knowing anything about Cordonia. I really don’t want my first impression with your family to be me clueless about the country I’m now a resident of,” she gave a nervous chuckle.

A few hours later, Liam had recounted a not-so-brief history of everything about Cordonia. Riley had no idea how Liam was able to remember all of it. She guessed having grown up there gave him an upper hand, but still. He was able to recount every single monarch and every single duchy that. He could even rattle off population stats that all sounded like a bunch of mumble jumble to her.

“Lords and Ladies . . . palaces . . . waltzes . . . balls . . . court . . . my head is spinning, Liam,” she frowned. She needed some aspirin, or maybe a stiff drink. She hadn’t expected her Cordonia 101 class with Liam to be easy, but she had hoped that she’d be able to at least glean some information to help her survive her first few days there. Instead, she felt like she had nothing but information overload. She couldn’t tell you who anyone was or what city was what because all of the names and places started to merge with one another after a while.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but you’re doing remarkably well,” he said encouragingly. “Hopefully some of the notes you took will help,” he smiled.

Yes, she had taken notes, but she had no clue what was important and what wasn’t. She hadn’t even known Cordonia even existed before meeting Liam. Now, she suddenly needed to know everything there was to know about the tiny country. How on earth was she going to remember everything?

“Trust me, love. In time, all of this information will become second nature,” Liam beamed at her.

She snorted. She didn’t want to tell him that she was more of a math and sciences sort of girl as opposed to being a history buff. She couldn’t imagine a time when all of these Cordonian factoids would become second nature.

“Here. Let’s test some of your knowledge now. I’ll give you an easy one,” he said excitedly. “What is the capital of Cordonia?” Liam asked expectedly.

Riley licked her lips nervously. Her eyes scanned the notes in front of her, but she could barely make out half of her short hand. She paused, uncertainly. “Valtoria,” she half-asked.

“Correct,” he smiled at her proudly as he rubbed his thumb back and forth over her hand. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’ll have Cordonian culture down in no time.”

She smiled tightly in response. She hoped he was right. She had been taking notes off and on during their discussion, but she didn’t really know how it would help her if she got ambushed by the press. It’s not like she could pull out a set of flash cards when she was getting interviewed. She didn’t think that’d earn her any brownie points with the Cordonian public.

Liam continued to quiz her on questions during the last few hours of the flight, and Riley admittedly was starting to remember some of the major things that Liam had taught her, but she still felt that all of the information she had just gained were whirling inside of her head like a tornado. She had never wanted to excel at something so much in her life. She felt like she was back in school, trying to cram in as much information as possible. She just hoped it stuck.

“What if I mess up?” She asked worriedly. “It took me years to even learn all the capitols of the fifty states,” she frowned. “And even then I still managed to goof up every now and then,” she said, her voice laced with a bit of panic.

“Riley, love, you’re a natural at this. You may not be Cordonian by birth, but we will have you be a star pupil on Cordonian history in no time,” he said encouragingly. “Like I said, you’re already doing so well.”

“I don’t know how I’ll remember all of this,” she said faintly. “There’s a reason why I went to medical school. Liberal arts wasn’t exactly my strong suit,” she joked.

“I’ll be there to guide you, and my friends, once they get to know you, will be more than happy to provide you with some help along the way. I happen to know that Bertrand majored in history at our university,” he said. “I’d be happy to talk to him about perhaps giving you some private lessons on Cordonian culture,” he offered. “He’d actually be well-suited to help you adjust to court life.”

“Bertrand . . . yeah, I don’t think he’ll be very much inclined to help me considering he wanted to have our marriage annulled,” she sighed. “He also seemed to think that I would be the demise of Cordonia.”

“Well, yes, remember, Bertrand is a traditionalist. His duty to country comes before all else. But regardless, he’s still my friend, and as such, he’ll want me to be happy. If I ask him to help you adjust to court life, he will do it. Begrudgingly at first, but after he sees how well suited you are as my wife, he’ll come around.”

Riley sighed. What an optimist. As much as she wanted to believe that Bertrand would help her, she believed that he’d probably eagerly wait for the moment for her to fall flat on her face. She was about to ask Liam a few more questions about Cordonia when she felt a slight rumble under her feet. She felt the plane begin to descend, and looked at Liam a bit concerned. “What was that?” She asked in alarm.

“We’re getting closer,” he explained as his eyes peered out the window. “It looks like we’re descending a bit to prepare for landing,” he reasoned. His eyes grew a bit brighter as he stared out the window. “Well, Mrs. Rys . . . if you look out to your left you’ll catch your first glimpse of your new home,” Liam beamed proudly.

Riley leaned against the window, her eyes gazing out into the distance below her. She could just make out the aerial view of the country. A million thoughts ran through her mind. They were here. They were finally here. Riley gazed out at the shimmering blue ocean below her. Cordonia’s coastline was breathtaking. The little information she found on Google did nothing to prepare her for the sheer beauty of the country below her.

She turned to Liam in awe, and he greeted her gaze with a beaming smile. All it took for her worries to wane was a single look at Liam. She knew this move would be hard, and she knew that she would be faced with a lot of scrutiny, and although she still had reservations about what would be like as an outsider, she knew that as long as Liam stood by her side, she’d somehow manage to pull through all of this.

“That’s our country,” he said, leaning over her, pressing a soft kiss on the temple of her forehead.

“Our?” She whispered, still a bit overwhelmed about the reality of finally being in Cordonia. She turned to face him, his eyes fixed on her in admiration.

“Yes, love. The moment you said yes . . . the moment you signed those papers . . . this became all of yours,” he said proudly.

#liam x mc #liam x riley #king liam #trr #trr fanfic #trr fic #choices trr #choices fanfiction #fanfic #the royal romance #theroyalromance #the royal romance fan fic

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autisticjunkrat · 4 years

Text

I’ll beat you- Mondo x Rival! Reader

“Wait, let me get this straight boss. You started a fight with the Crazy Diamonds?”

“Yeah, so what if I did?” You popped your gum loudly, leaning against your bike. You were the leader of the 2nd most famous, more like infamous, biker gang in Japan. The part about being 2nd bugged you. No matter how hard you tried, you never surpassed Mondo’s gang. Probably because he was the ultimate biker gang leader.

But that never stopped you from trying. And by trying, I mean trying anything that could bring his gang down a rank.

Just last night, you requested to race Mondo. He agreed, of course, because he would never turn down a chance to prove he was better than you.

But unlike other races you’ve had in the past with him, this one was different.

You had the bright idea to play dirty, and decided to mess up his bike. You shredded his wheels during the race, and about got sent to hell and back by his gang. But thanks to your gang members you escaped with nothing more than a black eye, a bloody nose, and a few scratches.

But today, while out riding your bike, you encountered Takemichi. He drove you into a stray alley, but didn’t hurt you. He simply told you to be ready for tomorrow.

So, here you were, about to go up against the crazy diamonds tomorrow. So, as gang leader, you informed the whole gang, and told them to prepare for tomorrow, and meet up in the abandoned warehouse you guys usually hung out in.

You definitely didn’t expect the fight to go on as long as it did.

It started out as a normal riot, one that you thought would last a few hours max.

But oh boy, were you wrong.

The fight had started at about 2 in the afternoon, with mainly fist fighting, the two gangs duking it out in the alley infront of your warehouse.

But as night approached, it escalated into people starting to use weapons. You ran back to the warehouse and grabbed your bat, returning it the battle to be met face to face with Mondo himself.

“Hey, y/n, maybe this’ll teach you not to mess with my FUCKING BIKE!” He swung a pipe at ypu, but you stopped it with your baseball bat, pushing with all your might against it. You finally moved to the side, making him slam the pipe into the ground with all his might, the noise of the metal echoing through the ally.

You moved the fight out into the open road where a few of your other gang member were fighting the crazy diamonds, blood splattering the street, and a few cars honking or swerving around the riot.

Mondo huffed as you both stopped in the road, both of you had dropped your weapons and had squared up.

“D-damn.. your gang just doesnt know when to give up, do they?” He growled, swinging at you as you dodged.

“No, and were not going to give up until the Crazy Diamonds does!” You swung at him, punching him in the face. It didn’t phase him though, and he punched you square in the jaw.

“Shit!” You yelled, popping your jaw, before screaming and leaping onto his back as he tried to throw you off. You punched at him, and even messed up his pompadour to rub it in.

He threw you off, and you landed on the ground, blood dripping from your arm and smearing your white shirt.

“What.. WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO TO MY HAIR BASTARD?!” He screamed, making some of your gang members and some of the crazy diamonds turn around, only to witness the two go back to fighting.

“..So, how long do you think this’ll last?” A policeman said to his partner from inside the car that they parked a few yards from the fight.

“Eh, either until they get tired or someone surrenders. It should be done tonight.”

Boy were they wrong. The whole night had consisted of fighting, the police too scared to step in. Both gangs were exhausted, but kept going.

A small crowd had gathered at the end of the street, a few people recording from afar, and even a local news station had come to interview spectators.

By this point, your gang had decided to bring out knives and pipes against the crazy diamonds. But they weren’t underprepared, and had weapons ready. You and Mondo had separated for a bit, but that wouldn’t be the last time you guys fought in this riot.

It was the next day, nearing night once again. You were currently using your favorite knife against two crazy diamond members, with one of your members helping with a pipe.

That’s when you felt someone pull you by your shirt, and you drove your knife into your attackers leg. They yelled in pain, and that’s when you realized it was Mondo again.

“...back for.. more, eh?” You said, exhaustion evident in your voice.

“Damn.. right. I’m not going to let you.. WIN!” He fought away his exhaustion with a yell, and swung his pipe at you again, hitting your arm with a snap.

Adrenaline rushing through you, you didn’t even acknowledge the pain, and landed a punch on his bicep, stabbing him in his stomach.

He acted as if he didn’t feel it, and pulled back, your knife stuck in him still. He raised up his pipe, ready to hit you over the head.

But before he could, searing pain doused both of your bodies, making you feel like you were being burned alive.

You closed your eyes and screamed in pain as pepper spray covered you, and fell to the ground. Struggling to see through the tears, you finally succumbed to darkness.

You woke up, and your senses slowly faded in. The smell of medical equipment hit you along with the soft beeping of your heart rate monitor. ‘Shit, was it that bad?’ You thought, immediately trying to sit up. But pain hit you in the gut like a truck, and you grunted in pain.

“Hey, lay back down, dumbass!” A loud voice said from the other side of the room. Confused, you looked up and saw Mondo laying in the hospital bed next to you, staring at you with furrowed brows.

“What the hell.. why are you here..” you said, still tired from the fight.

“The doctors put us in the same room. A few of our other members are in the hospital, but they’re fine.” Mondo said, lowering his voice for once.

“Huh? When did you get all quiet tough guy?” You laughed dryly, laying back down now, but facing him.

“S-shut up! You’re one to talk, you look exhausted.” He growled, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, I mean we fought for about two days straight. I wouldve gotten better sleep before the fight if I had known it would go on that long.” You said with a sheepish grin, looking down.

“...you need to take care of yourself. How do you expect to surpass my gang actin like that?” He locked eyes with you, a shocked look splaying on your face.

Your shocked look faded into a small grin.

“Oh, so you care about me now?” You watched his face turn red, as he covered it with his hand.

“No! Well, yea-, well no, not at all!! Well..” he sighed in defeat, looking down.

“..I only care about you because your my rival. We can’t fight if you’re dead.” He finally said, choosing his words carefully.

“...well, I am.. flattered. I guess I care about you too.” Your voice faded into a whisper. “Or maybe even admire you..”

But Mondo heard the last part.

“Wait.. you admire me?” He said softly, looking at you. Now your face was the red one.

“Shit! I...didn’t think you heard that!” You yelled at him, looking to the side.

But instead of making fun of you, he gave a soft smile.

“...You’re adorable when you’re embarrassed.” He smirked, making you even redder.

“You’re one to talk! Just a few seconds ago you looked like a tomato!” You huffed, going to cross your arms but hissing in pain.

“..oops, that’s my bad. I uh.. kinda broke your arm.” He went to stretch, but let out a gasp at the pain that shot through his abdomen.

“..and that ones my bad. I stabbed you there.” You gave a small smile. “Guess we’re even.”

Mondo smiled back at you. “Yup. Good battle.”

For once, Mondo felt like somewhat of a friend to you. Not an objective, not even a rival at the moment. A friend. A comrade. Someone who shared the same desires as you. And deep down, you had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time you felt this way about him.

“...Good battle.”

#danganronpa trigger happy havoc #danganronpa #danganronpa mondo #mondo owada #danganronpa 1 #fanfic #fanfiction #danganronpa fanfic

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lokidokiliteratureclub · 4 years

Text

Frostbitten: Chapter Five

Y/N L/N is a child of a Jotun and an Asgardian. She spends her life hidden in the dungeons of Asgard, with no one to talk to other than one of the princes- a man who seems completely incapable of leaving her alone and entirely unable to give up on helping her. Y/N and Loki Odinson have always been inseparable, it seems- even when there is a cell wall, or a village, or an entire kingdom between them.

Even when he disappears, even when you run away, and even when his world falls apart; you are inseparable.

okay, quick note:

there have been at least 3 VASTLY DIFFERENT drafts for this chapter, where I’ve incorporated different aspects of the story in different measures. I felt this was the best way to continue the story, but a lot of the previous writings for this part still have important details may or may not answer long-standing questions. For that reason, my ask box is open! If there was anything in the previous parts that made you think weird flex but ok or but why tho or what the shit is happening, do not hesitate to ask, because it’s probably intentional. If it’s not, even better. I always need to edit :).

Also, marching season!! No sleep. Big mess. Sorry for lack of update. I promise I'm not abandoning this!

Tag list: Open

-----

Loki curls up beside your cell, knees to his chest, back to the wall. You cannot see him from your spot on your bed, so you don't acknowledge him. You sit, flipping quietly through a book he had given you and sipping lightly at the death-soup Asgard gave you for food. And he’s there, eyes unblinking, trying to remember how to speak.

In his hands is a small dagger, dabbled with dry blood and dirt and dulled from use, and he flips it twice over, staring at the gentle curves of the blade. He has made mistakes today, and he needs to tell someone, but he can’t tell his family and he’s not ready to tell you. Pretending everything is alright on the other hand, is equally unacceptable. Loki is sick of lying. He’s sick of... well, sick of having to lie.

He presses the flat of the blade to his palm and closes his eyes, and the weapon disappears in a flash of green. You peek up from the pages and set the book on your bed, now aware of his presence.

“Are you hiding from me, now?” you jest, smiling softly and standing. “You look tired.”

Your voice draws him in from the first syllable, and he closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall.

Your smile fades as quickly as it came, and you heave a deep sigh. “You’re doing it again,” you comment, looking away from him. “Loki, please talk to me. I’ll listen. In case you’ve forgotten, there’s no one for me to tell your secrets to. They’re safe with me.”

He looks at you, and through his eyes you see that your words have inspired anger. He hides it well, speaking even and low. “You’re worth more to me than my secrets."

“Alright, then. Tell me why you did it. Whatever you did, or whatever you said.”

“I don’t know. That’s the worst part.”

You stay silent, awaiting an explanation. He looks toward you, clearly doing his best not to give anything away. “I have a very helpful resolve to only play practical jokes," he says, "and if they get out of hand I fix my mistakes. I didn’t do that this time, and I made things worse instead. I got angry.”

“At what?”

“No, that’s not it. I’m always angry, always plotting- it’s in my nature to be the epitome of wrongdoing. When I’m good, there’s no reputation for me to lean on like there is my brother. We demand on good versus evil for security, because gods forbid two good people have a disagreement.”

“Why do people expect you to be bad? Why not Thor?”

"Thor is the heir to the throne, so obviously he's perfect. I'm his opposite, so I'm the awful one."

You fiddle your hands together, entertwining your own fingers. "So you're angry because you have to fill this role?"

"No," he pauses, and shame crosses his face. He looks away from you, closes his eyes, and exhales, his entire body going slack against the wall. "No, that's not it. I'm angry because I'm so good at playing it. I'm uncontrollably good at playing it."

"Oh." You shift, turning your head to stare at the wall. "I can't imagine why. You're the kindest person I know."

"And how many people do you know?"

Sif, and Fandral, and Thor, and Odin, and the other guards. All of them different, all of them horrible in their own special way.

"Enough," you mutter.

Loki must read your mind, because he seems to regret his words after he hears you speak "That's fair," he murmurs, lifting a hand to push back his hair. "And I'm sorry. I shouldn't be emptying my heart out to you. You're not my therapist."

You scoff, recoiling, and cross your arms. "When I was six, a woman grabbed me by the wrist, angry with my lack of compliance in training. She had gloves on, and managed to keep me under control. I didn't want her to keep touching me, so I used my other hand to grab her wrist. When she tried to run, her arm frostbitten, I shot an icicle at her shoulder and knocked her to the ground. Then I left her there, locking her in the room and running about until eventually being captured," you say, bluntly. Loki blinks, surprised.

"I didn't know all that," he says, mildly fearful.

"I know," you reply, smiling slightly. "A secret for a secret. You dump your feelings on me, I'll return the favor. Deal?"

Loki sighs, eyes wandering for a moment while he ponders. Then his face softens, lips curving upward, and he looks back at you. He has forgotten the reason for his hesitance in speaking to you. "Are you sure you can keep up?"

"With the amount of times I've kept my thoughts from you?" You chuckle. "Absolutely."

"What do you have to keep from me?" he asks, mildly amused.

"What do you have to keep from me?"

-----

Loki did not mean to kiss you last night. No strings were meant to attach. The encounter was meant to be short, and friendly, and consisting of comforting hand touches and maybe, maybe a kiss on the cheek- something very forgettable. Instead of being casual, however, you had refrained from contact, afraid of touching him, of hurting him, and this made the confrontation more... well, more something. Loki got a little too close, a little too eager. Now he has to come to terms with the reason why he wanted so suddenly to kiss you, and why he wants to kiss you again. It's all he can think about, which is unfortunate considering the fact that he needs to figure out why he's still trapped with his brother on Jotunheim.

He grunts noisily, trying desperately to shove you into his pile of secrets, and steers his thoughts back on course to his main suspect. If he's right, the culprit is Arvid Erikson, since when everyone was through the Bifrost, Arvid was left behind in close proximity to Heimdall and the key. In those moments, he could have killed the gatekeeper and stolen the sword- the only way the Bifrost should remain closed. Arguably, the Allfather could summon dark magic to get everyone home, and regretfully, Loki has yet to figure out why that hasn't happened.

Erikson has always been strange, of course, but never showed any ill intent, so Loki is asking himself the very repetitive question: why? Why do this?

Of course, this question is relatively meaningless if he's trapped in his cell. He'll die, of starvation or dehydration or boredom or all of the above if he doesn't make his escape, which he will. If not to survive and bring the guilty to justice, he'll escape to see you. To touch your hands, or embrace you, or maybe, maybe kiss you again. On purpose and with purpose. To figure out whether you share these strange emotions, and if you do, to indulge in them.

This should be happening soon, because Loki is no longer in his cell, but right outside, brushing the dirt off his clothes. How? you might ask, and to that I offer no response. He's Loki. He's... special.

“Thor,” Loki grunts, cautiously peering around the corner and starting toward where he thinks the other cells are. “Thor, are you still in there? We’re getting out.”

Quiet, then a crack.

“Loki?” a voice calls in answer, but it’s not Thor’s. It’s Sif’s voice, high and dry and hoarse, coming from a cell just a couple feet away. Loki struts up to the bars and peers through them, using the sparse blue daylight coming in through the cell window to try and make out her shape. There is blood dried down her chin, and down her arms are purple bruises, marks of swollen blue. Also in the cell is Thor, his hair dried with sweat to the sides of his face, skin covered in dirt. “Thor, your brother is here.”

“Then let him be. We can’t leave either way,” speaks Thor, casting a glance toward Loki through the bars. “Brother, she’s wounded, I’m wounded, and they’re coming for you. The two of us can’t afford to risk another escape when there are so many of them and so few of us.”

“That sounds logical,” Loki muses, scoffing gently. “Who are you and what have you done to my brother? Get her up. This may be our last chance to get out of here, Thor.”

“Loki,” Sif says, maybe a bit too loud. She opens her mouth to speak again, but when she breathes in she is caught in a fit of violent coughs, clutching her stomach like she might throw up. When the coughing ceases, she meets his eyes. “We need to wait for the Allfather. He’ll come and get us.”

“Have you considered that maybe this wasn’t an accident?” Loki furrows his eyebrows, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible. “I think it was Erikson. The Professor. I'm sure you can figure as to why."

"Arvid is harmless."

"Arvid is a genius, Thor. I wouldn't doubt him."

"Do you have any proof?"

"He didn't try to kill Y/N. You know how horribly he spoke of Jotuns when he taught our history- not to mention he obviously would have known if I was sneaking through the-"

“Speaking of whom,” Thor cuts in, suddenly alert. “You’ve been conspiring with a prisoner or war this entire time?”

“Y/N is not a war prisoner, and that’s beside the point. The point is that Erikson is from Vanaheim, and I believe he may have the gift of foresight. It’s quite common amongst his people.”

“So,” Sif frowns, blinking slowly, wiping her chin. “You think that Arvid has stranded us on Jotunheim for a reason? To fulfill some sort of prophecy?”

“Or to stop one,” Thor breathes, barely audible. “If we we’re stranded here, then we’re long dead, brother.”

“Says whom?”

“Says the corpses rotting in the cells beside us.” With a deep grunt, Thor rises to his feet, walking steadily up to the bars and staring toward his brother. “But I don’t believe we’re stranded. Best to wait. Odin won’t be overpowered for long. But if you do run, then run fast, and run silent.”

“Are you alright?” Loki asks, frowning. “Thor, I can turn the lot of us invisible. I can do magic.”

“We’re not going.”

“You’re being frustratingly reasonable.”

“Loki!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll leave you be. Just- the both of you had better not go soft. Then, we will die.” He steps away from the cell, turning his back, but pauses. “And is that all? Anything else you'd like to ask before I disappear?"

Thor contemplates in silence for a moment, and then says: “Do you love the Jotun?”

There is a heavy, far-too-long silence, and Loki’s faint wittiness fades. Without turning back to his brother, he mutters a suddenly harsh “What’s it to you?”

Thor leans the remainder of his weight on the door. “I saw the two of you speaking when we first arrived. You were like old friends. Speaking and smiling.”

“And what does that imply?”

“It’s unlike you to be so friendly with others. But all of your absences- times when you’d be inexplicably missing- you’d return lighter, gentler. I want to know what makes a monster in a cell so appealing, so softening to you.”

He spins slowly around, striding quickly back up to the door. “This monster, Thor, is the only thing currently leaving your body attached to your head. I’d choose your words more wisely.”

“Fine, then. Why is Y/N so much more interesting than any regular Asgardian?”

He stares- a stare that is less a look than a threat, and then says. “Y/N is different because in all my time on Asgard, as a prince, as a son, or as an ally, no one else has paid me more mind than you. Y/N values the pages over the cover- the mind over the body. Do you understand that?”

“But the prisoners have seen so few people that they’re probably desperate, don't you think?” Thor stares pitifully at Loki, breathing deep. “I don’t want you to end up in love with someone who has had no choice but to love you back.”

“How naive can you be, Thor?!” He’s suddenly loud, and Loki takes a moment to gather himself before speaking again, fists clenching. “I was just as alone as Y/N was. The only ones other than our mother willing to speak to me would speak in brute, snobbish comments, and nothing more. If anything, I came to Y/N out of desperation. You were all so enthralled with your own lives that you hardly noticed me leave.”

Thor shakes his head, dismissing the very idea. “We would have let you- you isolated yourself, brother. Separated yourself from the rest.”

“Is that what you've been telling yourself?” Loki spits back. “I clung to you like a shadow, Thor. It was the only way you’d let me, and with Y/N I finally have someone to cling back. We both have wills. We both make choices. If you’d like to speak about forced love, take a look at the throne. Look beyond your own glory, just for a moment.”

“Loki, I-”

In a shimmer of green magic, Loki disappears from sight, his footsteps light thumps across the soft, dirt dungeon floor. He walks past the guards, flinging open doors in his wake as he storms out of the crumbling palace. He steps over glass and ice and stone, walking as far and as fast away as possible. When he stops, he pulls himself behind a rather large stone, slumping and leaning his back on the solid surface. His blood is still humming with anger, and with it he calls to the sky.

“Heimdall,” he groans, looking hopefully upward. “I know you can see me. I know you’re not one to stay dead, and I seek your guidance, seer. If you cannot bring us back, let me see.”

Silence. Loki sighs, then throws his elbow back into the rock, splitting it where he hit. “Heimdall! Bring us back!”

Then, the youngest prince is hit by yellow. He stumbles back, caught in the sudden sensation, vision blurred. When his sight clears, he’s no longer on Jotunheim, but in the darkening, deep woods of Asgard. Heimdall is leaned against a tree, looking extraordinarily annoyed. “Hello, Loki,” he grunts, unamused. “You are aware that you’re supposed to open your mind when calling, right? I had to fight my way into your head. I do not wish to repeat that experience.”

“Where are you?” Loki asks, ignoring the comments. “Why are you in the woods?”

“I’m dead,” he answers simply. “Can’t you tell?” Heimdall signals to the red blotches on his chest, the bandages around his upper half. “What better place to dispose of a corpse?”

“This is no joke, seer! My brother, Sif, and I have been trapped on Jotunheim, and if the Bifrost is not reopened..." Loki steps toward him, misplaced confidence in his swagger. “You’ve no time to be dead.”

“You’ve no time to be empathetic. Be logical. Put your emotions behind you, as you seem to be so gifted at doing, and find things you will need to survive. I will try to retrieve the Bifrost Sword. I know where it is, but I need time to heal.”

“Did Arvid Erikson do this to you?”

“That he did. He’s a very dramatic fighter, in case you were wondering. He talks a lot.”

“What did he say?”

Heimdall pauses, looking over the prince, and then sighs, turning his back and beginning to walk through the undergrowth. “I'd expect you'd know by now."

"Prophecy? Foretold evils?"

"That's the one."

Loki rolls his eyes. “And that’s all?”

“Well, of course not. He’s also trying to kill you.” He stops at a smaller, shorter tree and kicks it square in the base, effectively knocking it over. Small, round fruits topple from its branches, rolling across the ground. Heimdall kneels, gathering several of these fruits into his arms. “If I recall correctly, you’re to attempt to overthrow the throne. Mind enlightening me as to why?”

The prince hesitates. “Overthrow the throne? That’s, I’d not want that. I’d make a much better king than my brother, but I wouldn’t...” he trails off. Heimdall looks up from the fruits, raising his eyebrows, and Loki turns his gaze to his palms, scratched and bare. He takes a deep breath, gritting his teeth. “And this is to bring about some horrible fate?”

“Why?” he asks, ignoring Loki’s question. “You answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.”

Loki glares slightly, rubbing his palms together. “Thor doesn’t deserve the throne in his state. He’s reckless, and arrogant, and dangerous.”

“That’s not all you have to say.”

“That’s all I care to say.”

“Does what you don’t care to say have anything to do with your parentage?”

Loki shrugs and doesn’t let on that he’s at all confused. “Doesn’t everything?”

Heimdall stares, holding his gaze. Then he looks away, satisfied. “Not in the way you think. Survive, Loki. I’ll come and get the four of you-”

“Four of us?” Loki cuts in. “So, you’ll-”

“They’ll kill your beloved once they find out Y/N isn’t Laufey’s missing child. I’m under the impression that you don’t want that to happen. Am I mistaken?”

“I don’t want Y/N imprisoned again. Father will forbid we speak to one another.”

“Your father is in Odinsleep. He has more important matters to worry about. Now go, you’re giving me a headache."

Frostbitten Tags:

@natalia-rushman @what-inspirational-name @jessiejunebug @fandomdestroyer @a-new-schematic @iris-suoh @pandacookieowo @givememyskittlesback @awesomefandomsunited @itsanallygator@arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fire-treasure-iii @strangerliaa @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @woohoney @itsanallygator @rosesarestriped @justyuuhi @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction @loser-alert @egos-obese-anorexic-minds @themusingsofmany @lokiboomer

#loki laufeyson #infinity war #thor odinson #avengers #loki x reader fluff #loki #loki x reader #loki odinson #loki fanfic #loki series

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mama-m1na · 4 years

Text

Apocalypse: Chapter 19

~~~XIX~~~

It was around noon when Cloud and Rhamina began eating their lunch that consisted of whatever leftovers they had found in the fridge since neither of them were really in the mood for cooking.

Tifa was the first of the other females to wake up, walking down into the kitchen with squinted eyes and a massive headache that earned her a pitying smile from the younger ravenette from where she sat.

"How you feeling, Tifa?" the eighteen-year-old asked, securing her hair into a ponytail with a black butterfly clip as the brunette took a seat on the opposite side of the ex-SOLDIER with a groan.

"Like I just got hit by a truck," the twenty-year-old woman replied as she hid her face in her hands, the younger female standing up to close the curtains closest to the dining table to help with the headache.

"Well now you know to never play drinking games with us ever again," the ravenette chuckled as she heated up some food and brought her a glass of water, earning a small thanks in return.

"Yeah, but the both of you drank as much as we did or maybe a little more," Tifa started, eyeing the couple as they seemed perfectly fine and unaffected by the heavy amounts of alcohol they consumed the previous night, "I don't understand how neither of you are feeling miserable right now."

"It's all the mako," Cloud said, giving the explanation for himself with a shrug as he glanced over at his very hungover friend, "it increased my alcohol tolerance, same thing with all the other SOLDIER's."

"I honestly don't have a definite explanation for me," the younger female said, also with a shrug and a bright smile on her lips, "But I guess it would probably have to do with my powers."

"I see... How lucky," Tifa groaned as she just laid herself face down on the table, enjoying the cool temperature of the glossy wooden surface.

The ravenette bit her bottom lip, resisting the urge to say something along the lines of 'That's rough, buddy', instead deciding to focus on what was left of her meal and ate it in silence.

Once everyone was finished with their meals, the eighteen-year-old took care of the dishes as the blond stood up from his seat and moved to fasten his buster sword to its usual spot on his back.

Setting a newly filled glass of water in front of the brunette, Rhamina gave her an encouraging look as she said, "We're going to be out for a bit so take care of yourself and the others... And remember to stay hydrated."

"Alright, will do when they wake up," the woman sighed as she tried to return the teen's usual smile and gave the pair a small wave, "I'll see you guys later. Stay safe."

"We will," the teen replied as the pair walked to the front door where she took a few moments to put on and properly lave up her black combat boots before they set out on their short journey.

For once, the sun was out and shining down on the usually depressing looking island, something that the teenager wasn't used to, but she didn't complain as it wasn't too hot outside yet.

"You're looking for Knov again, right?" the male asked as he followed the teen down the dirt trail into the forest she was so familiar with, "How are you planning on trying to find him exactly?"

"Oh we won't be the ones finding him," she chuckled with a closed eye smile, that would concern him if he didn't really know her, "If anything, he'll be the one to find us if he so chooses. This is his forest after all."

"Great," the male huffed as he shook his head with his arms crossed over his chest, causing the female to look back at him with a raised brow.

"What did he actually say to you?" she questioned with her head tilted to the side, slowing down to fall in step with the blond, "I know he can be very blunt about new things coming into his territory."

Before the male could make his reply, they came upon the clearing with the pond in which he and Kerstin had found the eighteen-year-old last time they came out to the forest; and as if waiting for their arrival, the large forest spirit just sat by the edge of the water, looking in their direction as they appeared.

"Knov!" the teenager called as she rushed forward to greet the large canine, her human companion hanging back a couple of meters as he just watched their interactions from where he stood.

The wolf bowed its head towards the girl as the ravenette reached up to pet him and bury her hands in the creature's soft, fluffy, fur, not that it minded whatsoever at this point in its existence.

The twenty-one-year-old huffed at the canine's reaction, knowing that if the female weren't there to supervise them, then he would immediately turn fangs and claws against the human male.

"I see that you've finally awakened completely this time around," the deep, disembodied voice spoke as the female pulled back in surprise with a look of slight confusion on her soft features.

"This... time?" she echoed, tilting her head to the side, "Are you meaning to say that we've met each other before? As in, met in a previous life? Because I don't remember that at whatsoever."

"We have... However, my name at the time was 'Berkrut' not 'Knov'," the wolf replied, a look of recognition spreading slowly across the eighteen-year-old's face, "And I never took up a form like this in that life."

"I guess that makes sense," the female chuckled, earning a raised brow from the blond as she turned around to look out over the pond and fully take in the serene atmosphere that it offered.

As if sensing the male's confusion, she said, "In one of my past lives, I was born into a pack of Lycans, those who had the power to shift into wolves, and the one that was known as Berkrut was the alpha of our pack."

"A strong leader and a fierce warrior," she continued, turning around to face the blond with a proud smile on her face, "He was someone that everyone in the pack looked up to."

"Do not forget that you were a fierce warrior as well," the wold spoke with a huff as he leaned down to nudge the girl on the shoulder, "One of the best in the pack, besides me of course."

"Maybe, but only up until that one Harvest Moon," the female shrugged, earning a deep growl from the canine as she calmly walked over to stand next to Cloud with a neutral expression on his face.

"I still regret not being able to shred those humans on the spot," he snarled, once again sparking a new confusion in the human male that had stayed quiet throughout this entire encounter.

"What happened?" he asked, looking over at the ravenette who stood to his right as she worked to redo the ponytail, making sure that the clip was in tightly and that her hair didn't fly into her face again.

"There was a human village close to our village that didn't exactly like being neighbors with a pack of wild and monstrous Lycans," she explained, "But we had a treaty that basically explained that no harm would come to them if they left us alone and left us with enough game to hunt while staying out of our territory."

"Of course, some humans decided to ignore that treaty and ventured into our hunting grounds anyways," Rhamina continued, "and of course seeing as they violated the treaty, they were immediately killed."

"The humans took it as an unwarranted attack even though they were given many warnings," Knov huffed, golden irises glowing slightly, "So on the night of the nearest Harvest Moon, they attacked out own village with the intent of at least killing all of our pus, if not the entire pack."

Cloud's eyes narrowed at the arrogance of the villagers described, they reminded him heavily of the arrogant people who worked in the higher ranking departments of the Shinra company.

"We, of course, fought back and there were no deaths amongst the pack, but the humans had those among them who could wield magic tools, so many of us were gravely injured," the ravenette explained, "including myself."

The blond could feel the rage building within him as he just looked at the flat expression of the female telling the story, knowing those memories were not good ones.

"They took my eyes," she continued bluntly, as she turned her head to glare at the ground below her, "Physically tore them out of my skull and left me ties up on the ground in hopes that I would just bleed out and die... That nature would finish me off as they ran from the rest of my pack that were coming for me."

"That's... disgusting," the male scoffed in response as a scowl formed on his usually stoic face.

"It was, but we were able to bring them to justice quite quickly," Knov spoke, eyes narrowing at the memories of how many in his pack were injured that night, "We held no mercy for them after that."

"It was quite satisfying to hear that the entire village of humans was wiped out at the time, but it was a shame that I couldn't participate," the eighteen-year-old sighed as she shook her head in disappointment before pivoting towards the wolf, "But that's behind us now and I came to ask you something, Knov."

Facing the large canine with a serious expression, she asked, "How long have you known that I was Death?"

"Since the moment you first stepped into my territory as a child all those years ago," he replied without missing a single beat, "How could I not know your true identity, when your soul remains the exact same as the one I was guided to upon my own passing as a physical mortal being."

"True," Rhamina chuckled with a shrug, "Almost every being present in every world in existence, has come to me at least once, almost every being has lived a life in the past before they are reborn into the beings they are in the present."

"Kind of like you, Cloud," she spoke as she faced him as she faced the man, "You've seen me once before you came to this world, but unlike the others, that was the only time you've come to me."

"Huh?" the male hummed as the ravenette leaned forward to look straight into his mako-contaminated irises as he tried to keep up with the concepts that she was explaining to him.

Brown irises speckled with metallic, golden, flecks as they bore straight into the male's very being.

"Your soul is new, hun," she continued in a soft tone as her hand reached up to cup his cheek, providing him with a familiar warmth that he had become comfortable very with, "This is your very first life you're living right now."

With that information in the air, a bitter taste refused to leave her mouth as she thought about the situation that the male was thrown into and what she had seen when she first looked into his memories.

She then clicked her tongue in annoyance as she turned away, thinking, 'It's his very first life and he had the lack of being drawn into this mess of a world... What the hell are you thinking fate?!'

While Cloud sensed the sudden irritation that had grasped the female, he didn't know what he could say as he still tried to comprehend the information he was given a few moments prior.

"Child," Knov said, catching her attention once more, "I believe you brought the man with you for a reason, did you not?"

She turned to the blond with a small, worried, frown before saying, "I did, but I'm not sure you would want to see anymore. I'm sure this has been quite a lot for you already."

At the male's silence, the female sighed and said, "I'm sorry, this whole thing must be like a whole bombshell being dropped on you."

"I didn't mean to-" "No, it's fine," the twenty-one-year-old spoke, cutting off the female's nervous rambling as she looked at him with widened eyes, "I want to know more about this."

Soon enough, the girl's look of shock melted into a bright smile as she reached up to the new pendant that hung over her heart, where the bell used to be.

"Alright then!" she chirped before black ice began encasing her figure again, but once she was fully covered it broke away to reveal her true form, dressed in the form-fitting clothes that Mandallyth wore, accented by her vulpine appendages flicking and moving around in her new surroundings.

"This is my 'true' or 'God' form," she explained as she flicked some of her hair back over her shoulder, the nine tails moving calmly behind her, "It's like my execution form got a major upgrade, but in all honesty, it is my original form."

"The only reason I can stay in a human form for so long is because of my talisman," Rhamina continued, holding her pendant up as Cloud stepped closer, "It temporarily houses a majority of my powers until I'm back in this form."

"And why is that?" he asked, having to look up to maintain eye contact since her boots had five-inch heels on them.

"Because, well... human bodies are a bit... fragile," she started, eyed darting around at the trees and various greenery as she tried to find the right words to explain what she wanted, "they just aren't meant to handle the power of a god... It's like filling a balloon with water, fill it too much and it would eventually pop."

"Then why don't you just stay in this form?" the blond questioned with a shrug as he noticed the female's tails softly wagging behind her at the attention she was getting.

"While it would be much easier if I did, it wouldn't be such a good idea in this or any human-inhabited world for that matter," the ravenette replied as she shook her head, "Many have a grudge against Death and I would rather not deal with them at this point in time."

The male let out an amused huff as a small smile appeared on his face, asking, "That's pretty lazy for a god, isn't it?"

"Maybe to human standards, but I'm actually putting in the effort to live unlike the other gods that just watch from a different dimension," she chuckled with an equally amused grin on her face.

"Speaking of which," she mused before snapping her fingers, a purple magic circle appearing in the air beside her.

From the circle a deep bark echoed out before a large, much larger than Knov, the creature came forward to stand next to the ravenette.

"This is my mount, Kanon!" the female chirped as she pat the beast's shoulder, seeming completely unfazed at its intimidating presence.

The creature stood well above the height of the three present and appeared to be some kind of fluffy canine with black, grey, and white fur to accompany its icy blue eyes.

On its back was a piece of cream-colored fur to keep it comfortable with the saddle and while it was fully harnessed, that didn't stop her from glaring down at the human male that stood across from them.

Noticing the beast's behavior, the ravenette held her arm out in front of its chest as she said, "Kanon, this is Knov and Cloud... They're my friends of mine."

Kanon let out a huff before lifting its nose to sniff the air and immediately all of its fur stood up as its eyes narrowed, baring its teeth at the blond.

"Cloud, back up!" the female ordered as she held onto the creature's reigns and as her tails moved to block the beast from moving forward.

"What's happening?" he asked, doing as requested as he prepared to draw his buster sword.

"I'm pretty sure she can smell me on you and vice versa," the female explained calmly as her mount continued to struggle against her hold with loud growls, "She obviously doesn't like that."

'Well she'll have to get over it,' the male thought with a scoff as he watched Rhamina fully stand in between the two with her tails fanned out so that they couldn't see each other at all.

"Kanon, honey, I want you to be able to stay out of the pocket dimension, but you have to behave," he heard her say from behind the wall, You can't just eat anyone you don't like."

This resulted in a loud bark from the canine before a sigh left the female's mouth.

"Do not use my own saying against me! I don't actually eat people!"

A small smirk appeared on the male's face as she continued talking to the beast, noticing that she sounded like a mother scolding her child for misbehaving.

When she lowered her tails she was still holding onto Kanon's reigns and the beast was still glaring at him, but she was sitting down.

"So what is she?" the male asked, earning a warning growl from the canine as he took a step forward, Rhamina gripping tighter onto the reigns in her hands.

"She is one of Death's Reapers," Knov answered, nodding in respect towards the larger canine, "Death spirits tasked with guiding and protecting souls as they make their journey to meet Death."

"They are very loyal and protective, "he continued as the other spirit sat a little bit straighter, "Very good for what they are tasked."

"Yep, Kanon is a good girl most of the time," the ravenette cooed as she scratched the side of her mount's neck, "but you can't be eating my friends all the time."

Kanon only responded by dropping all of her weight onto the female next to her, earning a yelp as she was suddenly pinned to the ground by the weight of one of her Reapers.

Her pointed ears flicked in annoyance before she looked to the blond with a pout on her face as he met her gaze with an amused grin.

"I don't know why you're laughing, Cloud... She still wants to eat you," she huffed as Kanon rested her head on the female's stomach, "She's just trying to distract me so she can get the chance."

"I'd like to see her try," the blond replied as he locked eyes with the canine.

"Cloud, no. Please don't challenge her," Rhamina warned as her tails moved to remove the large canine from her form, "I'm serious, she's my mount for a reason."

"I don't doubt that," he shrugged as the ravenette stood up, shaking her head even though she was quite amused.

"We should probably start heading back to the house," she sighed after looking up to see how much the sun had moved since they came outside.

"Alright, Kanon," the female spoke as she turned to the canine, "you're going to have to do the thing because you're not going to fit through the door like that."

The Reaper rolled her eyes, but begrudgingly stood up and let black smoke surround her figure.

When the smoke cleared, a large Russian Bear Dog stood where the mount would be with blue eyes looking up at her master.

"Good girl," the ravenette praised before a soft purple light engulfed her form once more before she stood once again in her human form.

"Ready to go?" she asked as she turned to the twenty-one-year-old with a bright smile on her face.

The male nodded and the teen turned to say goodbye tot he forest spirit before they began walking down the path with her walking in between Kanon and Cloud.

It was mostly quiet on the walk back, save for the random comments the female would make as they walked, but none of them really minded.

When they finally got back to the house, it was around three in the afternoon and everyone else was awake.

"Mina, what the fuck is that?" Tijarah asked as she was walking over to the kitchen, pausing only when she saw the canine that stood at the height of the owner's waist.

"This is Kanon!" the ravenette introduced, placing a hand on the dog's head, "She's a death spirit!"

"Mina, that thins is a full ass bear," Sam commented from her spot on the smaller couch, earning a snarl from the canine.

"Keep talking shit and you're going to lose a hand," the older teen warned as she unlaced and took off her boots, gaining a small bark of agreement from Kanon as she placed them to the side where no one would trip on them... hopefully...

"So I get that she's a death spirit, but why is she here right now?" the younger Filipino questioned as Cloud and her Sibling walked over to sit at the second couch.

"She's my mount like I said earlier," the older female said with a shrug as she tucked her legs underneath herself and pulled her phone out of her pocket.

"Excuse me?" the dark-skinned teenager asked, momentarily choking on the chips she had just started to eat, "she's your fucking what?"

"You mean you ride that thing into battle?!" Kerstin exclaimed, pointing at the dog who was laying on the floor by the ravenette.

"Yeah, this isn't her only form, dipshits," the eighteen-year-old stated as she looked up from her phone to see the shocked looked of her siblings, "I just needed her to fit through the door and in the house."

"Wait, do we have mounts too?" the green-eyed female asked, shock turned to excitement when the ravenette nodded her head.

"Of course, we aren't called the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse for nothing," she shrugged in response, "Although, Tijarah was the only one with an actual thing that resembled a horse."

"What do we have?" Kerstin asked with her voice laced with pure enthusiasm, as Kanon merely rolled her eyes at the familiar souls.

"Kerstin, you had this giant lizard thing, Sam had a lion with fucking bird wings, and Tijarah had this huge as, jet black, carnivorous horse," Rhamina replied, causing Tifa's eyes to widen with slight worry.

"You can only summon them when you get your shit together though," she continued, looking over at the older female with a sympathetic smile, "so go and do that first before you bring about chaos with your mounts."

"And how exactly do we do that?" the Mexican asked as she typed something into her phone.

"You'll get clues if you pay attention," the ravenette replied, "but for sure the rest of you will have to wake up soon... Once one of us wakes up, the others are sure to follow shortly afterward."

The rest of the day passed like that until everyone got ready for bed and went up to their respective rooms.

Cloud wasn't exactly happy about it, but Kanon had wormed her way into his room before he could close the door, so now she just sat on the floor by Rhamina's side of the bed with what looked to be a smirk on her face.

"At least she isn't trying to take your spot on the bed," the female chuckled as the male laid down next to her with a huff.

The blond said nothing as he wrapped his arms around the girl's waist to pull her closer.

"Honestly though, I'm really sorry about her attitude," she whispered as she curled up against him, "she doesn't really like anyone."

"I don't care," the male huffed, "as long as she's able to protect you and doesn't get in my way, then it doesn't matter."

A smile crept its way up onto the female's face as her eyes closed, whispering, "I love you, Cloud."

"I..." the male started, looking at the girl in his hold with a soft look in his eyes, "I love you too."

The ravenette tensed, feeling her face heat up again as her heart started pounding against her chest, but she soon relaxed again as a giddy feeling filled her being.

The next morning, the blond felt a little warmer than usual, but it wasn't unpleasant until he felt something swipe across his back.

His eyes snapped open in alarm as he jolted slightly, causing the eighteen-year-old to wake up as well.

"What's wrong?" she groaned, still slightly sleepy, as blue eyes caught onto what he had felt.

Cloud let out a sigh as one of the female's black tails retracted to lay across the female's lap, one of her ears twitching as she yawned.

"Your tails," he said, pointing to the various appendages attached to her upon seeing her confused glance.

Following the male's finger, the teen's eyes widened with a small gasp before she reached up to the top of her head to her vulpine ears.

"Goddammit," the hissed, sitting up and ignoring the amused look Kanon gave her from the floor as she willed her inhuman parts to vanish.

"I'm sorry about that," the female sighed as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, one strap of her camisole slipping off of her shoulder, "That just happens apparently."

"It's fine, they just surprised me was all," the blond shrugged, looking over at the ravenette who had raised a brow at him.

"So you're fine with the fluff blanket?" she questioned with an innocently curious gaze, tilting her head to the side.

"I guess, but are you really calling it that?" the male shot back as he stretched before removing the blanket from himself and standing up.

"As long as my sisters don't catch wind of it then ti's fine," the teen replied, reaching over for her phone, "I will not tolerate being called fucking cute."

In response, the large black and white dos, let out a huff as she rolled her eyes, earning a glare from Rhamina.

"Oh shut up, Kanon, you're a literal fluff ball!"

~~~Fin. Chapter 19~~~

Masterlist

#Apocalpse #Chapter 19 #Final Fantasy #Final Fantasy 7 #Final Fantasy 7 Remake #Final Fantasy VII #Final Fantasy VII Remake #FFVII #ffvii remake #ff7 #ff7 remake #Fanfiction #Fanfic #Cloud #Cloud Strife #Cloud Strife x OC

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madnessinmoderation · 4 years

Text

Lost ABO Hannigram omegle rp

Really enjoyed this one, if it was you please get in touch!

You're now chatting with a random stranger.

You both like Omega!Lock, MorMor, Sherlock RP, Wing!Lock, Hannigram, and JohnLock.

Stranger: (S1-ish) Are you courting me? -WG(Omega)

You: Would you be opposed if I were? HL

Stranger: Embarrassed. -WG I've been completely unaware. Alana had to tell me. -WG

You: If I was being too subtle that would hardly be considered your fault. HL It's traditionally an alpha's responsibility to court successfully after all. HL

Stranger: Were you being subtle? Everyone else seems perfectly aware of you staking your claim. -WG It's really not a failure on your part. -WG

You: I wasn't trying to push the issue when you didn't catch onto it, I didn't want to come across as boorish. HL

Stranger: Ha. Like you have the ability to be rude to anyone. I've seen you politely enduring boring conversations with plenty of people, then ask to have them for dinner. -WG How long have you been courting me? -WG

You: I assure you I am capable, I'm just careful to avoid doing so as it's not something I personally like to be known for. HL I have been seriously trying for a few months, although I first started testing the waters not long after we first met. HL

Stranger: Ah, yes. You brought me breakfast and I told you you're not that interesting. I can see why you like me, I'm charming. -WG

You: That was maybe part of seeing how receptive you were. I was perhaps understating how soon after our first encounter I was interested. HL

You: Although it's hard to tell when vague interest turned into solid intent. HL

Stranger: You know, Doctor, I should probably be a little bit more concerned about you strolling around inside my brain when you're also trying to get in my pants. -WG

You: I've only ever been interested in supporting you Will, I hope your knowledge of my interest doesn't make you feel like I have overstepped any boundaries. HL

Stranger: No, I am flattered. -WG

You: Flattered enough to accept an invite to dinner? HL

Stranger: I kissed Alana. -WG

You: Oh. I see. HL

Stranger: It's complicated. -WG I really had no clue you were courting me. I just needed something. It's hard to explain, but you should know. -WG I would still like to come to dinner... if that hasn't changed anything. -WG

You: If you have no present attachment to Dr. Bloom, I see no reason for anything to change. HL

Stranger: You're sure? -WG You don't have to be polite. -WG

You: I'm positive. HL

Stranger: I'll bring the wine. -WG

You: That would be appreciated. HL

Stranger: Just let me know when. -WG

You: This Friday at 7pm? HL

Stranger: As long as I don't end up on a date with a serial killer, I'm all yours. -WG

You: [[Amazing line]] Then lets hope the only 'killing' will be filling in the time before then. HL

Stranger: We'll be friends, won't we? -WG If all of this goes wrong. -WG

You: I'm hoping we won't need to be, but if such an event were to occur I would believe so, yes. HL

Stranger: Good. It's rather had to find company I enjoy keeping. -WG Other than the dogs. -WG

You: Company is easy to come by, good company on the other hand is less readily available. HL

Stranger: Not certain if you should or shouldn't use that as a toast at one of your dinner parties. -WG

You: It sounds about perfect for that sort of occasion. HL

Stranger: I'm sure everyone in the room will feel very special. -WG

Stranger: Shame it isn't the truth. -WG

You: I never specified they were the good company, so it is not technically a lie either. HL

Stranger: You wouldn't consider purposefully withholding the truth a lie? -WG I wish I had known before I mentioned the kiss. -WG

You: At one of my dinner parties I believe a few white lies are necessary to host amicably. HL

You: That is a rather different scenario. HL

Stranger: Is it? Withholding to minimise damage/offence. -WG

You: Dinner guests are aware that these social niceties exist, even if they do not know what the lie is. HL

Stranger: And in the traditions of courting kissing Betas is common place? -WG

You: I'm glad you told me either way. HL

Stranger: I'm deflecting because I feel guilty. Sorry. -WG

You: It's understandable. Would it help if I kissed Alana too yo balance the scales? HL

Stranger: No. -WG No. Don't do that. -WG Just because you're not a jealous man, I am. -WG

You: It was a joke. I know someone I would rather like to kiss, but he's a rather jealous man apparently. HL

Stranger: You've been courting me for months. We could always skip dinner. -WG

You: I suppose I have shown you I can provide plenty of times before. HL

Stranger: Not really want I look for in a partner, anyway. -WG

You: What do you look for then? HL

Stranger: To be understood, I guess. -WG To be seen as someone's equal, despite my biology. Something I usually only get from Betas. -WG

You: Do you think I can provide that for you? HL

Stranger: Are you planning to chain me to the cooker? -WG I should warn you I'll spitefully ruin your fancy pans. -WG

You: I wouldn't give up cooking for anything, so you don't have to worry about that. HL

Stranger: Why do you like me, Hannibal? -WG

Stranger: Out of all the beautiful socialite Omegas you could choose to go after, who would openly welcome your affection, and not take so long to work it out, you want me. -WG

You: Perhaps its because you're not one of those vapid omegas who lack a personality of their own. HL

You: I think you are perhaps I first became intrigued by you because you were the first omega I ever met who stood up to two alphas in the same room in what was clearly an ambush. HL

Stranger: You and Jack are not as scary as you like to believe. -WG

You: Perhaps, but it was impressive none the less. HL I don't want a mate who isn't my equal, I suppose that we have in common. HL

Stranger: You want a mate who challenges you? -WG

You: As much as I challenge them, yes. HL

Stranger: I refuse to believe that I am the first to do that. -WG

You: You're the first to consistently. HL

Stranger: I like that I can't read you. -WG

You: That's a good thing? HL

Stranger: Probably not. -WG

Stranger: It's interesting. -WG

You: It probably isn't a good thing in your books, but I like the way you think. HL

Stranger: You realise you're going to have to share more about yourself. -WG

You: I'm aware. Are you comfortable doing the same? HL

Stranger: Are you pretending you don't know about me? -WG

You: I only know what you let me see. HL

Stranger: And you can draw conclusions on. -WG

You: True, but the same applies the other way around. HL

Stranger: You're far better at selecting what information I see. -WG And Jack isn't in the habit of telling me anything about you. -WG

You: Jack certainly doesn't know as much as you do. HL

Stranger: My point if that Jack tells you everything about me. You're my handler, aren't you? -WG

You: Jack is very professionally oriented. HL

Stranger: Ha. -WG

You: His notes rarely cover simple things like you're favourite food, how many dogs you actually own or what you consider your safe place. HL

You: I've scented you a few times recently, although without much of a chance to do so thoroughly it always leaves me more frustrated than I was before. HL

You: I hope that isn't too much of an admission. HL

Stranger: I always shower before therapy. -WG

You: I know. I can smell the soap on you. HL

Stranger: You're misunderstanding the intent. It's not my regular band. It doesn't dull my natural scent. -WG

Stranger: I hope that is too much of an admission. -WG

You: You wanted me to. HL

You: Have you ever scented me? HL

Stranger: I enjoy the physical effect it has on you. You're usually far more composed. -WG

Stranger: And you've been using biological warfare since our first session. I just evened the playing field. -WG

Stranger: And not exactly scented. Stolen a tie. -WG

You: I have to sacrifice some composure to hold back other desires. HL

You: I didn't exactly change anything, I've never seen any need to hide my scent. HL

You: The blue paisely one? I was wondering where that went. HL

Stranger: You use your scent as a tool to disarm people. It's impressive. -WG

Stranger: Well... comfort people. But familiarity and safety makes people admit things they usually wouldn't. -WG

Stranger: You can have it back, in exchange for another one. -WG

You: I'm hardly the only alpha to take advantage of that. HL

You: You can have something larger if you'd like, the scent will last longer. HL

Stranger: We could sleep together. Your scent would last for a shorter period, but it would be a lot stronger. -WG

You: It would give us an opportunity to fully scent each other too. HL

Stranger: Ah, there is a downside with that. -WG

You: Being? HL

Stranger: I can imagine it'll be somewhat distracting and therefore frustrating when it isn't there anymore. -WG

You: There are ways of making it last long enough til the next night. HL

Stranger has disconnected.

#omegle rp #lost rp #lost omegle rp #hannigram #hannigram rp #hannibal

5 notes · View notes

sweetheartjeongguk · 6 years

Text

pretty kitty 3 (m)

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: hybrid au, camgirl au, fluff, smut

rating: nc-17

warning(s): drunk sex, impregnation kink, daddy kink, mentions of drugs and alcohol, taehyung and oc having the feels

word count: 6.6k+

summary: you’re both jagged pieces of a puzzle, but you fit rather nicely together.

the discovery | the denial | the meeting | the aftermath | the payback

masterlist

“You tired already?”

You huff out an annoyed breath. “Easy for you to say. You just stick your dick in while I gotta deal with your sweaty body on top of me. It’s like Niagara Falls every time you top.”

Seojoon clutches at his chest in offense. “How dare you? First of all, might I remind you that I made you that spicy ramen last night even though we all know it starts World War III in your guts and you were stuck on the toilet for an hour crying over your ‘ruined asshole’?”

“Why, you little—”

You launch a pillow at his face, but unfortunately for you, his reflexes as a panther hybrid allow him to easily avoid your attempted assault.

“Anyways, I gotta get going.” Seojoon sighs in fake disappointment. “Hyungsik wanted to binge-watch My Hero Academia with me, but I’ve been avoiding him ever since I accidentally watched the season already.”

“Yikes, good luck dealing with that mess.”

You never really liked Hyungsik, and you’re 99.9% certain that the feeling’s mutual. Just something about him strikes a wrong chord with you, but Seojoon shrugs this off as irrational paranoia. Unwilling to argue with your friend, you force yourself to muster up the brightest phony smile whenever you stop by their apartment to hang out or drop something off.

“See you tomorrow!” He shouts as he escapes through the front door after slipping his clothes back on. “Great work today as always! Don’t forget my money, bitch!”

“Love you too, jackass.” You grumble as you lay in a starfish position on your mattress.

The livestream ended an hour ago, but Seojoon stayed to help you clean up and recuperate after the camming session. While he’s a dumbass half the time, you admire him for his consistent attitude for quality aftercare, even after the most vanilla of encounters. This particular session gained you a hundred more viewers and a decent amount of money for you to share with. If your elementary school-level calculations serve you well, the night’s earnings combined with your last solo stream are enough to cover textbook costs and the money you owe Seojoon for the time you overflowed his toilet after trying to flush his toothbrush down after accidentally flinging it inside and wanting to “destroy the evidence” before Seojoon came home.

Your next defense was to blame it on Hyungsik, but he didn’t seem to appreciate the joke.

As recompense for your so-called “crime against humanity”, you offered a substantial portion of your earnings if he helped with filming. Sex came natural to the both of you, lacking the expectation of blatant resistance when you first brought up the idea. Casual sex with a trustworthy friend while making a couple hundred bucks every five minutes? Seojoon couldn’t find any fault with that.

After all, you sucked him off in a frat house bathroom just an hour after you two were officially introduced.

You stretch out across the bed with a wince. Maybe you’ll invest an hour-long massage once your money gets transferred to your account. Better yet, you’ll force Seojoon to pay for it since this is his fault in the beginning. The man’s built like a god but fucks like the devil.

When you unlock the screen of your cell phone, you’re bombarded with the sight of multiple texts from Seulgi and an email about your Music 101 class being cancelled on Monday. After browsing through bland Instagram stories, you finally decide to appease the witch in your inbox.

Right off the bat, you regret opening up the message.

BITCH YOU BETTER ANSWER ME BEFORE I COME OVER AND TELL SEOJOON ABOUT UR CRUSTY VAGINA PROBLEMS.

You’ve had plenty of experiences with Seulgi barging in during your not-so PG moments and having her fall into an exaggerated spiel that has your partners running out of your dorm in record time. You’d be a fool to fall into her hands again so with a heavy heart, your thumbs type out your response.

yes ur majesty??

Not even five seconds later, your phone beeps with a new message.

wOW look whos here, puss in boots has finally blessed me with her appearance.

Before you can type back your offended retort, you’re blasted with the annoying Facetime ringtone. With a sigh and silent prayer to whatever higher power is up there, you accept the call.

“I almost thought the dick went to your head and not your vagina.” Seulgi snorts when your less than glamorous face comes into view on her screen. “How was your dick appointment, sunshine?”

“I’m doing fine, thanks for asking appropriately.” You flash her an unimpressed stare. “I made over $5k tonight so cancel your plans for tomorrow. We’re going shopping at the outlet tomorrow!”

“Okay, Little Miss Fancy.” Seulgi wiggles her eyebrows in approval. “Just in time too. There’s going to be a party at Jennie and Jisoo’s this weekend, and I’m trying to get dicked down before I’m forced to graduate with cobwebs on my clit.”

“Okay, first of all…I’m not even going to ask.” You shudder in disgust. “Second of all, don’t you have your project due the day after? Might I remind you of what happened last time?”

Seulgi blanches white. “Please don’t. I’d rather not remember that when there’s a dick in my mouth.”

You hold your free hand up in surrender. “Alright then, your problem. Just so you know, I think that you should have started that project months ago.”

“And I think that I should be married to Gong Yoo with two beautiful children, but we don’t always get everything we want.” Seulgi harrumphs. “Anyways, don’t be a party pooper. Who knows, maybe you’ll find Sugar Daddy Number 163 there?”

“My finger is literally hovering over the end call button as we speak.”

“Do it, bitch. I’ll throw away that catnip that you think I don’t know about in the secret drawer inside your closet.”

“That is low, Kang, that is just low.”

“Hey, there’s a party at Jennie’s this weekend? You down?” Jimin calls from the couch as he scrolls through the influx of messages in his dance class group chat.

Taehyung is fully immersed in washing the pile of dishes in the sink that he almost doesn’t catch Jimin’s voice over the running faucet. When he contemplates this in his head, he just shrugs indifferently.

“I don’t know, I’m not really friends with her.”

“She’s cool, man. The rest of us are going too anyway, so it’s not like you’re going to be by yourself.” Jimin points out.

“Knowing you all, you’re going to be dragged off into a game of beer pong against Jungkook or caught up in some random hook-up in a closet somewhere, Namjoon’s going to get himself stuck in another piece of furniture again, and Jin and Yoongi are going to make another stupid bet that’s going to get Jin stuck in jail again.”

“What about Hoseok?”

“He gets red after two sips.” Taehyung scoffs. “The most I had to do was stop him from calling his parents to apologize for drinking and never calling enough. He’s the least of our worries.”

“You might find someone to spend the night with?” Jimin singsongs. “Get your dick wet after all these months of being a loser and staying home jerking off to porn?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Staying home doesn’t make someone a loser.”

“That’s something a loser who stays at home jerking off to porn would say.”

Taehyung sighs up at the ceiling, hands soaked and wrinkled from the soapy water. “I don’t even know why I try at this point.”

“Just think about it.” Jimin stands to grab his jacket hanging off the side of the couch. “You might be pleasantly surprised.”

“Highly doubt it, but thanks for the advice.” Taehyung actively avoids the flick of Jimin’s middle finger as the latter leaves to head back to his own dorm.

Once he’s finally alone, Taehyung takes a moment to actually think about Jimin’s proposal. If he does go to the party, there’s a 50-50 chance of him getting lucky with some hot stranger desperate for a random dick for the night or him returning home with six (or five, depending on Seokjin’s law-breaking kink) drunken idiots.

His Plan B (B standing for “Better Option”) would be to just forget about the party and stay home where he can happily jerk off to porn while digging into a huge bag of Hot Cheetos. Thankfully, he’s learned his lesson on how to jerk off without accidentally using the Hot Cheeto hand.

Taehyung had the case of spicy dick for a good five hours until Jimin came over to check up on him. However, the only thing Jimin could do was fall back in crazed laughter and snap a Polaroid of Taehyung’s distressed tears from his Cheeto dick.

Maybe the party idea isn’t sounding too bad after all.

You fidget uncomfortably in your seat as you adjust your too-tight top. You had forced yourself to sit through an entire styling process from Seulgi who decided that you needed a little more “oomph” in your appearance.

In the words of Kang Seulgi, “God, Y/N, you’re a popular camgirl known for her sexual appeal, and yet you continue to dress like a middle-aged librarian mixed with Maria from the Sound of Music.”

You couldn’t help but shrink back in offense – your wardrobe isn’t that terrible. Sure, you wear too many casual clothes, and the only time you wear expensive lingerie or anything remotely “sexy” is when you go on camera, wearing the gifts given to you by loyal viewers.

Regardless, you let Seulgi work her magic in the brief time you had to yourself before Ji-Eun arrived to drive the three of you to the party.

Seulgi passionately performs a mini concert in the backseat with her own rendition of “God is a Woman” while Ji-Eun boils in the driver’s seat, her hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel. You don’t know which is worst at this point.

“God, will this car go any fucking slower?” She grits her teeth as another person honks their horn at Ji-Eun to let them through. “Why do they have to live so far away in the ass crack of nowhere?”

“They’re only 15 minutes away from us…”

“You better watch your mouth, Kang, or else you’re walking home.” Ji-Eun scowls into the rearview mirror.

Seulgi slouches back in her seat, no longer feeling the need to belt out the last notes of the song as it comes to an end. Angry Ji-Eun’s a side to the usually cherubic Ji-Eun that should never see the light of day no matter the circumstances. You busy yourself by scrolling through your Instagram feed, liking a couple pictures from your friends back home and laughing silently at some random dog videos that pop up in-between. Your scrolling comes to a halt, your thumb hovering hesitantly above the heart button of a certain photo.

If it wasn’t for the owner of the account, you would have found the courage to double-tap.

“Oh, isn’t that Kim Taehyung?”

“It is…” You mutter quietly, ignoring the close presence of Seulgi’s face near yours.

You’re desperate to scroll past, but Seulgi reaches her hand out to hold your phone.

“You should go for him, Y/N!” Ji-Eun whistles when she catches the picture of his selfie from the corner of her eye. “I heard he and Sooyoung already broke up, so you got a shot.”

The corner of your mouth quirks up in a half-assed smile. As if.

“They broke up already?” Seulgi asks curiously as she hands you back your phone. “I could have sworn that they were messing around together a couple weeks ago.”

There goes your fleeting moment of happiness.

“They weren’t really a thing, I’m pretty sure.” Ji-Eun pauses in thought. “They hooked up a couple times, but I think they’re just friends or at least just in the same friend group.”

You silently stew in your seat, clicking out of the app and locking your phone. Thanks to Seulgi, you’re aching to burn the image of Sooyoung wrapped around Taehyung from your brain. Not that you’re jealous, of course.

Ji-Eun sighs in relief as the sight of the house comes into view. After parking precariously on the side of the street, Seulgi rushes your trio inside and through the living room teeming with drunk college students and into the kitchen to grab the first drinks of the night. You twitch your nose at the stench of musky cologne, hormones, and hard liquor intermingling as you approach the bartender of the night who just so happens to be Seojoon.

“Hey guys!” Seojoon chimes as he finishes up mixing Hyungsik’s drink who stands cross-armed against the wall with a look of boredom directed at the three of you, mostly at you. “I was wondering when you’d be getting here.”

“When did you get here?” You greet him with a short side-hug, stopping to glare at him until his traveling palm averts its course from your ass.

“Hyungsik and I got here beforehand to help set up.” Seojoon nods towards the brooding man in the corner. “Jisoo stuck me with this job, and now I can’t leave until the party’s over or at least until I’m forced to go out to buy more alcohol for these heathens.”

You scrunch your nose in annoyance. “That doesn’t sound fun. Why can’t they do it themselves?”

Seojoon clears his throat. “I quote, ‘because getting dicked down by the hottest guy in the room is the main priority of the night’.”

“Hear, hear.” Seulgi nods distractedly.

You smack your hand against her bicep. “Can’t you think without your genitals for a second?”

“Y/N…sweetheart.” Seulgi pats your cheek as if you’re an innocent child. “You must not know me at all.”

“Nevertheless, ladies, please enjoy the party.” Seojoon pulls you back before you can take a swipe at your best friend. “Y/N, I’ll be seeing you later.”

Seojoon clicks his tongue suggestively, reveling in your eyeroll and not-so discreet middle finger. After grabbing your drinks, the three of you head towards an empty corner of the room, away from the concentrated cloud of marijuana and crusty men who crave a quick grope.

“Dang, was the dick that bad?” Seulgi scoffs jokingly. “Maybe if you’re not interested, you can spare a little bite...”

“Wait, since when you and Seojoon a thing?” Ji-Eun’s eyes widen.

You subtly glare at Seulgi’s apparent struggle to hold back her knowing laughter before turning to answer Ji-Eun with the most innocent look imaginable.

“I don’t know where Seulgi gets her delusions.” You smile through gritted teeth. “Seojoon and I hanging out from time to time does not equate to us fucking.”

Seulgi lets out a snort. “Something smells fishy…I think it’s your va—"

She squeaks in pain when she feels the stab of your heel into her foot. The music drowns out most of her cries of distress which Ji-Eun fails to notice. She takes a large gulp of her drink, grimacing at the strong aftertaste of the mostly-vodka mixture.

“God, I want to sue Seojoon for making us this terrible drink.” Ji-Eun stares at the cup with utter hatred in her eyes. “Seriously, it tastes like straight-up ass paired with off brand Caprisun.”

“I second that notion.” You swallow back a gag as the concoction slips uneasily down your throat.

“Me three.” Seulgi grimaces but forces herself to finish the content. “I’m undoubtedly puking later, so I’m going to go off and find some nice dick before that happens. Tootles!”

You silently devise a plan involving bear traps and superglue as you threaten to bore a hole through the back of Seulgi’s head with a scorching glower as she blends into the crowd in search of her next friend with benefits, leaving you to deal with the most infamous lightweight of your friend group.

“You okay?” Ji-Eun questions curiously.

“I’m fucking fantastic.”

“Y/N, I love you.” You remain stone-faced as the drunk girl leans against you with her entire weight. “You’re always so good to me, and I love you for that. I’ll make it my mission in life to help you find a boyfriend, okay?”

Her arms are like spaghetti, and her knees knock together in an attempt to keep straight. The cup once clutched in her hands is now dumped in a random corner of the kitchen, but you shrug it off as Seojoon’s responsibility. He did make you terrible alcohol after all.

“Hyung, n-no, I’m not d-drunk.”

You momentarily glance up at the voice, suddenly blanking out at the figures slowly approaching your corner of the room.

“Oh God, please turn around, please turn around.” You desperately pray as they inch closer.

Much like your situation, Taehyung struggles to hold his unmistakably intoxicated friend – Jungkook or something along those lines – in an upright position. He mutters angry words that were inaudible to you into Jungkook’s ear, but the boy keeps trying to shove Taehyung away.

“I w-wanna go party-y!” He hiccups. “They’re p-playing beer p-pong without me.”

Jungkook twists his body to make a run for the living room, but his own clumsy feet send him back to square one in his friend’s arms. You can see Taehyung roll his eyes as he hauls Jungkook’s heavy body towards the row of chairs where you’re forced into cuddling an equally drunk Ji-Eun.

Taehyung fails to recognize you until your uncomfortable shifting in your chair lets out a shrill squeak. When his gaze settles on you, you notice that his entire body freezes. Heat rushes to your body as his eyes trail over you in a bizarre manner – almost as if he’s scanning you to make sure that you’re actually there and not just a figment of his imagination.

Before you can muster up the courage to utter one phrase to the boy, he turns to the side to tend to Jungkook who’s stuck mumbling and drooling, much like a newborn baby. There’s an itch in the pit of your stomach that begins to bother you more than you’d expected it to. You feel an obligation to say something over to Taehyung – at least something along the lines of “Drunk friends, am I right?” – but you decide to push aside whatever tempts you to say something.

Between the choices of not saying anything and not having Taehyung know who you are or uttering your sentence and making a complete fool of yourself, you’d prefer the latter by a long shot.

“Um…is she okay?”

Your head shoots up in surprise. Taehyung allows his friend to lay on his side across the row of chairs, taking up the entire space while he’s forced to cram his body onto the tiny chair a seat away. Your gaze trickles down to Ji-Eun who mirrors Jungkook perfectly, completely passed out and drooling away on your lap like there’s no tomorrow.

“She will be.” You abruptly clear your throat. “She’s always like this at parties, so it’s nothing new.”

Taehyung nods in agreement. “Same, I’m always stuck watching over all my friends which is why I didn’t really want to go to this party in the first place.”

“Ugh, same!” You groan as you cradle your forehead with a palm. “My friend Seulgi’s no help either. She’s probably off choking on dick in one of the guest rooms right now while I’m stuck here on babysitter duty for someone older than me, for fuck’s sake.”

When Taehyung answers with an awkward cough, you’re hit with the sudden realization that maybe you shouldn’t be so open with a complete stranger, even if that stranger is Kim Taehyung who you’ve had a crush on for years now.

Just a thought.

“Sorry…” You force out a laugh, sounding uncannily like a robot. “You probably don’t want to hear about that.”

“No worries.” Taehyung shakes his head. “My friend Jimin’s the same way. In fact, I think that’s them over there.”

You squint your eyes in the direction that Taehyung points towards. When you finally catch onto the sight, you instantly wish you hadn’t.

There, practically undressing each other in the middle of the dance floor with their tongues curled one another, is Seulgi and Jimin.

“Yup, time for me to burn my eyeballs.”

Taehyung giggles at the horror in your eyes, throwing you overboard into a sea of useless emotions. The worst part of it is that he’s not even trying – that’s just how he is.

‘Ugh, pretty boys.’

“You’re telling me.” Taehyung cringes. “But that’s not the worst situation I’ve caught Jimin in, so I guess we’re spared this time.”

“H-hey.” A voice hiccups from below.

You both direct your attention to Jungkook who points a shaky finger towards you.

“You l-look familiar…” The boy slurs. “Have I seen you before?”

“Nope.” You answer with a shrug. “School, perhaps?”

“N-no.” He hiccups again. “Are you a Y-Youtuber?”

‘Not exactly, kiddo.’

Instead, you reply with another shake of your head. He opens his mouth as if to ask another question, but even uttering a complete sentence proves too difficult a task for Jungkook to complete. With a slurred humph, he slumps against the row of chairs again with his head resting on Taehyung’s right thigh.

“Sorry about him.” Taehyung mutters apologetically. “He rarely drinks, but when he does, this happens.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You smile politely. “That makes two of us.”

Five minutes into a conversation with Taehyung, and you’re scared of falling back into the dreaded Awkward Silence. If only Seulgi was here to save you, but she’s probably too busy giving Park Jimin the suck of a lifetime while you’re floundering to save your conversation with the cutest boy in school.

You’re suddenly thrown back into the image of you as a shy middle schooler, silently crushing on the cheery tiger hybrid in Mrs. Lee’s classroom across the hall. Those were the days before you discovered the wonders of makeup and Moroccan oil and when you would sit in the corner of the lunchroom with your eyes glued on a certain boxy smile as he laughs with his best friends and the rest of the popular kids. The lasting memory of you in his mind was probably the Kindergarten Incident with you crying on the playground after your mother dropped you off in the morning. You long to change his perception and show him who you are now, flaws and all, but you have no idea where to begin.

Curse you and your inability to socialize.

You take your time scanning through the room for a potential lifesaver or topic to blab about to make yourself look semi-interesting to Taehyung. You go to blow away a strand of hair that falls into your vision, unaware of the pair of eyes watching you softly.

Taehyung holds back the urge to brush the troublesome strand from your skin and place a gentle kiss where it used to lay.

“Hey, do you…” Taehyung choking on his words cause you to turn towards him with a raised eyebrow.

“Do I…” You trail off.

Taehyung pales as he forces the words from his mouth in an awkward splurge of word vomit.

‘It’s now or never, Kim.’

“Doyoumaybewanttogohavesomefunonourown?”

Taehyung could almost die at your stoic appearance. Nothing in your eyes or your smile (lack thereof) gives him any clue into the thoughts churning around your brain. Just as he’s ready to give up and find an excuse to escape with a sloppy Jungkook in tow, you begin to giggle.

Now, Taehyung’s 99.9% sure he’s about to die.

A smile plays at the side of your lip. “Alright, Kim. I second that notion. But first, let’s go find some beds for these guys first.”

It takes you roughly 10 minutes to scour the house for either Jennie or Jisoo, eventually finding the latter hanging around the poolside with Soyeon and Chaeyoung. You thank a higher power for the Kim girls’ wealth from part-time modeling that allows them to buy a house with more than one guest room. After accidentally opening up occupied rooms and getting more than a couple dick flashes, Taehyung and you finally find two empty rooms that are decently far away from the loud chattering and music blaring throughout the house. Quickly, you plop Ji-Eun down onto the soft comforter of the bed and turn her on her side, shoving a trashcan beside the bed just in case that night’s menu decides to make an appearance when she wakes up.

“All set?” Taehyung asks, a hint of hopefulness in his voice. You brush it off as wishful thinking.

“We’re finally free.” You beam with a wide grin.

Taehyung sends you a soft smile before grabbing your wrist to pull you downstairs and into the kitchen for drinks. Seojoon eyes you carefully as you approach, curious as to your sudden acquaintance with Mr. Kim Taehyung. He knows a little bit about your not-so-little crush but holds back his questions for another time; however, it’s completely obvious that he’s holding back from making a crude sex joke in front of the two of you.

“Enjoy, you crazy kids.” Seojoon winks, sending a flood of embarrassment to your cheeks.

Taehyung eyes Seojoon with a subtle glare, one that you barely notice but one that Seojoon senses immediately. You’re none the wisest towards the display of dominance, but Seojoon notices it all – from the way Taehyung subtly puffs up his chest to the growing feral glint in his eyes.

“Kiss my ass, Park.” You hiss when you snatch the cups away from Seojoon’s fingers.

“Gladly, sweetheart.” Seojoon purrs back without missing a beat.

It takes all of Taehyung’s inner strength to force his irritation down to an unnoticeable level of annoyance. Even then, his bad mood is still visible to anyone who dares to look closer. After grabbing your drinks from an amused Seojoon, you begin to guide Taehyung out of the kitchen to head back upstairs.

With your back turned, Taehyung chances a dangerous snarl at Seojoon. The older raises a hand up in surrender, but the aggression does nothing to deter Seojoon. If anything, it just makes him even more pleased than before.

Oh, how he can’t wait until you finally become a couple.

“Sorry about him.” You apologize meekly as you two head onto the balcony connected to an empty guest room in the farthest part of the house. “Seojoon can be a little annoying when you first meet him, but he’s actually not that bad.”

“Ha, you’re telling me.” Taehyung mutters annoyedly.

Before you can question Taehyung’s irritation, he’s already chugging half the cup’s contents down his throat. You hold back your disgust for the taste as you follow in Taehyung’s footsteps and gulp down the fiery alcohol. You’ve already developed a small buzz from your first round of drinks, but you feel yourself slip into a more relaxed state with your second.

“So, Miss Y/N…” You lazily turn your head. “Tell me a little about yourself.”

The two of you rest your elbows on top of the balcony railing, inviting the cool autumn breeze to blow across your skin and through your hair with a gentle caress. The party music is muffled behind the glass door of the balcony, but you can still feel the bass thumping within your chest. You hum for a moment as you rack your brain for something, anything interesting to say.

“There’s not really that much about me.” You shrug. “I’ve lived here most of my life, and I plan on leaving once school’s over to explore the rest of the world. My two best friends are Seulgi and Ji-Eun, just not tonight...and that’s all to me really. I guess I’m just an open book with a little too many blank pages in-between.”

Taehyung nudges his elbow to your side. “Ah, there’s more to you than that. Surely, you like to do fun things. Unless you’re one of those boring people whose favorite show is Jeopardy and likes to go to the mall just to walk around.”

“Hey, Jeopardy is a great show, Mr. I-Have-The-Mental-Capacity-Of-A-Walnut.” You retort jokingly.

Taehyung laughs wholeheartedly at your teasing jab. “Okay then, fair enough. I’ll take your word for it.”

The moon beams down on your figures as you continue to chatter about random topics and sip on your disgusting drinks with only a small grimace. Little by little, you learn more about Taehyung’s passions in life and what he wants to do after graduation while he learns more about your friendships with Seulgi and Ji-Eun and all the horror stories from freshman year. You share giggles and playful nudges as if you’ve been friends for decades.

Every sip from your cup sends a tingly buzz that fills you from your head down to the tips of your toes. Your bright eyes grow lazy with a familiar drunken glaze, and you find yourself leaning a little closer into Taehyung’s side.

It’s when you finally make eye contact with Taehyung that he makes the first move.

Your bodies move in an almost fluid yet messy choreography, your lips latching onto one another in utter desperation. Taehyung quickly parts your mouth with his tongue to finally taste the hidden sweetness hidden within. His large, veiny hands slip down from the sides of your face to clutch your hips against his body, forcing your hands to rest against his broad chest.

“Want to go inside?” He pants when you eventually separate for a breath.

“Please.” You whine urgently.

You squeak in surprise as he grips your body with one arm while the other slams open the balcony door leading into the guest room. In a blink of an eye, Taehyung drops you onto the comforter and frantically suctions his lips to your jawline, creating soft marks on your supple skin and kneading the soft flesh near your inner thighs. You bite back a moan as his lips trail down your neck and towards the cleavage of your top.

“Take this fucking thing off.”

Without missing a beat, he rips your top over your head and returns his mouth to the valley between your breasts. Taehyung’s pleasantly surprised at your braless form, and he can’t help but brush a thumb across before replacing it with his tongue.

“T-Tae…” You sigh airily as he circles around your nipple, drawing them to a hardened peak and leaving thin traces of saliva on your skin. “P-Please.”

“Relax.” He coos into your ear. “This is all for you. You just lay back and enjoy it, my little kitten.”

“I’ll enjoy it once you’re inside of me already.” You whisper coyly, your hands tracing down the curve of his spine and down towards his ass. “I want you to fill my pretty pussy up with your come already.”

With one look into his frenzied pupils, you shrink into yourself as though you’re some meager prey hybrid with a bloodthirsty predator chasing after you.

Oh, how you love it.

He peppers a series of small kisses down your stomach, his movements slower than before. He wants to make you feel as frustrated as he does whenever he watches your videos and yearns to reach through the screen to feel your body against his.

However, with the real thing’s in front of him, his biological urge to mount you and pump you full of his kittens starts to overpower his original plans of taking things slow.

“Fuck, you smell so good, baby.” Taehyung groans as your excitement seeps through the fabric of your jeans. “I can’t wait to taste this sweet little pussy. My little kitten’s been waiting so long for me.”

Your muddled thoughts fail to form into coherent words as Taehyung’s tongue slides across from the top of your pelvis and down towards your core drenched in your excitement. He relishes in your whiny moans at the ticklish flicks he gives your swollen clit, noting cockily how your nails grasp at the bedsheets with reckless abandon and how your toes curl in delight at the warmth filling your bloodstream.

“Are you all wet just for me, kitten?” Taehyung murmurs, cheeks completely soaked from your excitement. “You taste so good, baby. So sweet.”

“Y-Yes, I’m all wet just f-for you, baby.” You whimper as his tongue licks larger stripes against you. “P-Please, Tae, I want you.”

“Want me where?” Teasing you is quickly becoming his new favorite pastime.

“I-Inside. Please, I want to feel all of you.”

“Isn’t that a little too easy?” Taehyung clicks his tongue as he wipes away the excess slick from his chin.

He holds in his shudder when you pull his hand towards you to envelope the come-stained fingers inside your mouth, moaning in delight as you taste yourself.

“I-I think I n-need something in return before your little pussy can earn its treat.”

Taehyung is quick to unbutton his jeans and shrug them along with his boxers onto the bedroom floor. The tip of his cock drips small strings of pre-come onto the sheets, reddened and sensitive to the touch. You quickly discover this when your small fingers reach forward to briefly tease around the head with the pad of your thumb.

“Open up, sweetheart.” Taehyung bites down onto his lip as he guides the first two inches inside your awaiting mouth.

You moan at the salty taste that you’ve grown to love that coats your tongue, sucking lightly for the first few seconds before hollowing your cheeks and applying more pressure with every stroke. Taehyung hisses as your mouth sinks even deeper, nearly driving the head into the back of your throat.

“You’re so good to me, huh?” Taehyung lets out a low moan when he feels you hum in agreement, sending vibrations across the sensitive head of his cock. “Does my baby deserve to be fucked now?”

Your watery eyes connect with Taehyung’s as you choke on the smooth length. Suddenly, you feel miniscule and powerless underneath his lustful gaze, but you welcome the degradation wholeheartedly.

“Turn around, baby.” Taehyung grunts as he slips himself from your mouth. “I want to see your tight little ass when I fuck this little pussy open.”

He props you up on your elbows with your back arched as far as you can go. There’s a slight pressure in your lower back as you present yourself to him, but the discomfort is nothing compared to the uncontrollable need to finally be fucked by Taehyung. He admires the sight of your awaiting pussy, completely soaked with your come and swollen from his relentless ministrations on your sensitive bud.

You draw out a long mewl when you feel the tip nudge your seam before pushing inside, clenching hard as he continues to bottom out.

Oh, how he loves it.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight.” Taehyung chuckles lowly as he begins a steady yet hard-hitting pace. “You’re making Daddy proud. His kitten’s taking his cock so well, don’t you agree?”

You smother your face into a pillow to muffle your cries, not wanting someone barging in during the fuck of your lifetime. With every hard thrust, your pussy sucks him back inside with a lewd squelch, desperate to hold him there whenever he tries to retract. His fingers are sure to leave marks on your skin in the morning from the way he’s grasping your hips for dear life. .

You fuck yourself almost every week, and yet you’re still the tiniest hole Taehyung’s ever had the pleasure of fucking. It entices him to continue his thrusts, in hopes of absolutely ruining you and filling you to the brim with his seed. His mind floods with images of you overflowing with come, carrying his potential kittens deep within and yet, still demanding for more.

This daydream alone has Taehyung stuttering in his movements and nearly blowing his load before you can squeeze around him in your own mind-melting pleasure. You have to come first, and Taehyung would be damned if he ruins that for you by acting like a pubescent boy who came in less than a minute to his very first porn video.

“Taehyung…” You cry pathetically. “T-Touch me.”

He’s quick to follow your orders, rubbing at the bundle of nerves between your legs with two wet fingertips and earning a sharp “F-fuck, Daddy!” in response. Your body threatens to curl inward, and you force yourself to grip onto the pillowcase instead of onto Taehyung’s thigh to force him to fuck you even harder.

He wants to feel you absolutely fall apart with his cock splitting you open – and fall apart, you do.

A surprised hiss escapes the tiger hybrid as you spasm underneath his body, your euphoric release dribbling onto the sheets below. Your claws that unsheathed a second before your orgasm have shredded through a good portion of the pillowcase you buried your face into. It’s not long until Taehyung’s hips lose their rhythm and suddenly, you’re filled with copious amounts of his warm seed.

All for you.

“F-fuck, kitten, you made Daddy come so much.” He admires the sight of your completely battered pussy as he goes to pull out, stuffed to the brim with his seed that slowly starts dripping out. “Stuffed full of Daddy’s kittens. Such a good girl.”

You sigh in relaxed pleasure as he starts cleaning around your entrance with a skilled tongue, a strong hand massaging each cheek. There’s something satisfying about the fact that Taehyung’s tasting himself which seduces you into pushing through the overstimulation by twisting your hips in tight circles to aid him in his taste test.

“You little—” He laughs as he lands a light smack to an ass cheek. He groans internally at how it jiggles under the force, drawing a tiny moan from you and a string of come that seeps from your used pussy and down your thighs.

Before he can treat himself to another taste, you flip over and grab at his neck. “My turn.”

Taehyung nearly falls forward on his face when you connect your lips together, your tongue sliding through for a mixture of your releases. They’re still both salty and bitter on your palate, but you’ve gotten used to the taste by now. If anything, Taehyung makes it taste even better.

As you sink further into the mattress deep in the kiss, Taehyung lifts himself up to pull you onto your side. You let out a tiny squeal at the sudden shift in position, especially when his lips tickle the crook of your neck with a trail of wet kisses.

“Now, sleep.” Taehyung kisses your cheek before nuzzling his face into the back of your neck.

“Weirdo.” You purr groggily before succumbing to the inevitable fatigue that seeps into your bones and muscles.

Once you’re deep in sleep, Taehyung leans closer for a better glimpse of your face. Your skin’s still flushed red and sweaty, but you still look like an angel in Taehyung’s eyes. The entire room smells of come and sweat, but he can still sense your unique sweet scent of your skin, and it pains him to hold himself back from tasting some more. The stress that wrinkles your brow is smoothed out and replaced with a peaceful expression, one he sees quite often during your streams after you finally fall back down from your high.

Taehyung is finally brought back to reality when his ears pick up incessant cheering from drunk patrons outside by the poolside accompanied by loud EDM blaring from the outdoor speakers. He ignores them all with an exasperated wrinkle of the nose, and instead he chooses to savor in the warmth radiating from your body that just so happens to fit perfectly against his own – just like pieces of a jagged puzzle.

Taehyung smiles. You’re finally in his arms, and he doesn’t want to let go.

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smartgirlsaremean · 6 years

Text

The Wedding Planner - Chapter 12

Fandom: OUAT

Pairing: Rumbelle, side of Swanfire

Rating: T

Summary: Wedding planner Alan Gold doesn't have much faith in romance, and little to none in marriage. A chance encounter with sweet librarian Belle French has him almost reconsidering his beliefs until he receives a nasty shock: she's the bride in the most important wedding of his career.

AO3

Chapter 12 - Belle's done the brave thing, and now it's Gold's turn. What will happen when these two crazy kids see each other again?

Gold stared up at the stone facade of the library, trying to muster the courage to enter. Once everyone in the shop had understood who Belle was, there had been no quelling their excitement. In vain had he pointed out that the flowers could simply be a gesture of goodwill.

“Camellias, Rumple,” Jefferson had said flatly.

Perhaps, he’d suggested, Belle had meant to order white camellias and the shop had been out. White camellias symbolize luck, and that would have made perfect sense...

“The daughter of a florist accidentally sent the wrong flowers?” Neal had interrupted, his eyebrows raised. “I wouldn’t make that mistake, and I’m just the son of a wedding planner.”

Alright, but they hadn’t parted on the best of terms. There was no reason to think…

“Camellias,” Neal had insisted.

Jefferson repeated the word, and then so did Emma, then Henry and Grace, until it seemed that the five of them were competing to see who could say it loudest. It was impossible to get a word in edgewise, and in the end Gold had given up and walked into the back room, ignoring the fact that Henry and Grace were improvising a song consisting entirely of the word “camellias” sung at different octaves, egged on by Jefferson.

Emma followed him, her eyes bright with sympathy, and he pretended not to notice her until she refused to move out of his path. “So that’s the big secret,” she said. “The movie girl was the bride.”

“Aye.”

“But she’s not a bride anymore.”

“No.”

Emma pursed her lips and tilted her head to one side, studying him. “So...what now?”

“Now I get back to work,” he said. “Or I would, if there wasn’t a bloody concert being held on my salesfloor.”

“So you don’t love her anymore. I guess she wasn’t that special after all...probably just looking for a good time, anyway.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Gold stared at his daughter-in-law, his jaw dropping open.

“I mean, she comes onto you while she’s engaged, she leads you on…maybe she hoped you’d give her a discount if...”

“Stop,” he growled. “You don’t know her. She wasn’t...it wasn’t...she made a mistake, but…”

“You think? She just happened to go to a movie with her wedding planner and then acted like she’d never met him before? Sounds kind of fishy.”

“She was unhappy and confused, and she made the right choice in the end,” Gold said coldly. “I’d think you’d be a little more understanding, dearie, especially as you’ve never met her. Belle would never knowingly hurt anyone - she may be impulsive, but she’s the gentlest soul on earth, and I won’t have you saying such things about her.”

Emma smiled softly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You do still love her.”

Gold blinked. “I…”

“I don’t know this woman at all, but people don’t usually send flowers to people they don’t like. You should go see her.”

He’d put up a bit more of a fight, but this morning Emma had called every hour to ask if he’d gone to the library yet, and he finally left the shop just to placate her.

Now here he was, trying to remember which was Belle’s day off - he knew Gaston had mentioned it at some point. Someone bumped into him from behind and muttered what might have been an apology, though he doubted it, and he shook his head and stepped forward. Emma was right - even if they meant nothing else, the flowers were a sign that she liked him, at least, and she would not be averse to seeing him. Pausing outside the great wooden doors, he took one last steadying breath and pushed one open.

“Watch the wet...oh. You again.”

Gold turned to see that Leroy the surly janitor was once again stationed by the door with a mop. He nodded once and the man’s eyes narrowed.

“You here to see Belle?”

“I am.”

“She’s reshelving in philosophy. Look,” he said when Gold turned toward the shelves, “you know she’s not getting married anymore, right?”

“Well, as my planning services were dispensed with, I had a suspicion,” Gold said dryly.

“Okay. Just making sure. Seemed like something you might wanna know.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

Leroy rolled his eyes and resumed mopping, and Gold, after waiting a few minutes, walked away. He had not, after all, come here to converse with custodians.

When he rounded the corner into the philosophy section, he stopped short. Belle was leaning against the shelves near the end of the row, a cart piled high next to her and a heavy book open in her hands. She seemed lost to the world, her lips curved in a slight smile, and he caught his breath. She was every bit as beautiful as he remembered.

Cautiously he took a step forward and said, “‘We may sit in our library and yet be in all quarters of the earth.’”

Belle started and the book fell from her hands with an echoing thud. Her eyes flew to his and she drew in a quick breath. “Alan,” she whispered.

“Hello, Belle.”

“What are you...I mean...it’s good to see you.”

“You, too. How was your...ah...trip?”

She gave a faint smile. “My non-honeymoon, you mean? It was wonderful.”

He stepped forward. “Everything you’d dreamed?”

Her cheeks reddened and she bent to pick up the fallen book, placing it gently on top of the stack on her cart. “Well...not exactly. No one dreams of going on their honeymoon alone.” She nudged the book into place, making sure its spine was flush with the books underneath it. “But I got to see a lot of places I’ve only read about, and…” Her voice trailed off and she looked up to meet his eyes. “Gaston told me you quit.”

“Aye. That was always the plan. One last contract before resignation.”

“I’m sorry it was such a mess.”

He felt the corners of his mouth twitch. “Bit of an understatement, dearie.”

She fought a smile and her eyes sparkled a little. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

They were silent for a moment, and he felt some of his nervousness drain away. “I wanted to thank you.”

“Oh.” Belle blushed again and gave an awkward shrug. “It was nothing, I...I heard you were opening a shop and I know that took a lot of courage…”

“Not for the flowers,” he interrupted, “though they were lovely. I meant…” He stepped forward until he was standing directly in front of her, and she gazed up at him with wide eyes. “Belle, when I met you, I was...well, an enemy of love. I’d seen too many marriages crumble, too many vows broken. I thought I was better off alone. I thought I preferred solitude.” He smiled as her eyes grew even wider. “And then you barrelled into my life and...I’d never felt more alive than I did that night in the park. Meeting you as Gaston’s fiance was painful, and planning your wedding to another man was pure torture, but...”

Belle shook her head and took a step back, her face miserable. “I’m so sorry, I…”

“...but I don’t regret it,” he said firmly. “I realized I’d been placing all of the blame on love and marriage, rather than on the people making bad choices. I’d convinced myself that I couldn’t love, that I couldn’t be loved, not romantically, and you changed that.”

“But that night,” Belle said, her voice shaking, “you said…”

“I said what I had to say to make you leave,” he confessed. “What you were saying...it couldn’t be real. I was too afraid to believe it was real.”

“And I was your client,” Belle said. “And you were drunk. I was taking advantage. I’m so sorry, Alan. I’ve regretted that night more than you can imagine.”

A dagger to his heart could not have been more painful, and Gold took a step back. “Ah,” he said dumbly, feeling the blood drain from his face. “I…”

“No!” Belle exclaimed, her expression horrified. “Not...not what I said! That hasn’t...I mean, the timing of it - I knew I needed to leave Gaston, I’d known since that afternoon when we saw Cora and I thought you still had feelings for her and I was so jealous I could hardly see straight, and...but I should have waited. I should have gone home, broken it off with Gaston, given everyone some time to come to terms with it and then...but I’m impulsive.” She shrugged and looked down at the floor. “I don’t always think about the consequences of my actions, and all I could think about right then was how much I wanted you.”

Gold took a breath and stepped forward again and reached out to touch her cheek, turning her face so that she would meet his eyes. “I wanted you, too. From the moment you knocked the wind out of me and twisted my ankle.”

Belle huffed a laugh and put her hand over his, leaning into his touch. His heart racing, Gold bent down and brushed her lips with his. Belle gave a little start of surprise, but the next moment she slid her arms around his neck and pressed against him, returning his kiss with an intensity that rattled him. When they came up for air, Belle smiled sheepishly at his stunned look. “Sorry, I...I’ve been wanting to do that for a really long time.”

“You’re apologizing?” he said. “For that?”

“Well you looked a little shocked and I don’t want to put you off, and…”

He cut her off, this time leaving gentleness behind and pushing her back until she was pressed against the bookshelf. She shuddered when his fingers wound their way into her hair, and she deepened the kiss, inviting him to explore every inch of her mouth. When he pulled away, she looked as stunned as he’d felt, her eyes wide and dark.

They both jumped when someone cleared his throat. Leroy stood at the end of the row, his face twitching with the effort to keep his scowl in place. “Ellen’s looking for you,” he said. “You might wanna finish up here before she starts searching the stacks.”

Belle giggled weakly. “Thanks, Leroy.”

Leroy rolled his eyes and walked away and Belle leaned back against the stacks, smiling almost shyly. “How do you feel about hamburgers?” she asked.

“I’ve been known to enjoy one on occasion.”

“My friend’s grandmother runs a diner - their hamburgers are pretty great. Want to try one when I get off work? Around seven?”

“I’d like that.”

Belle smiled more brightly and pushed away from the shelf. “I really do have to get back to work, but I’ll see you later.”

“I look forward to it.”

Biting her lip, Belle glanced down the row and then swooped up and pressed a final quick kiss to his mouth. “Me too,” she whispered against his lips. It took every ounce of his self control to pull away, but he did. He looked back once as he walked away and saw that she had turned back to her cart of books, her smile wide and her hair a touch disheveled. Smiling to himself, he left the library and pulled out his phone.

Neal answered on the first ring. “How’d it go?”

“Not bad.”

“Not…” There was a sound like a smack, and Gold smirked. “Cut the crap, Pops. What’d she say?”

“She asked me what I thought of hamburgers.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and then, “Is that code for something?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

There was another pause. “This is payback, isn’t it? For the flower thing.”

“Flower thing?”

“Come on, we’re dying here. What happened?”

“We?”

“Hey, Rumple.” Jefferson sounded a bit as if he were standing in a cave. “Didn’t Neal mention he put you on speakerphone?”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Fine.” Gold could practically hear Neal grinding his teeth through the phone. “But when you get here tonight, watch out. We’ll get it out of you somehow.”

“Oh, can’t make it, I’m afraid.”

“You can’t? Because you have a date?” Neal’s voice had risen nearly an octave, and Gold chuckled.

“Goodbye, Neal.”

“Papa!”

Gold rung off and stood motionless on the sidewalk for a moment, thinking, and then headed for Dove and his car. He had a date to prepare for.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #the wedding planner #rumbelle au

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