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#rather have someone be miserable and honest about it than ever try to spare my feelings
medicinemane · 1 month
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I don't know, here's my problem with all that gratitude stuff people are always pushing
I'm here finding myself grateful for the really bad unexplained stomach problems I had for months that randomly flared up so bad I couldn't leave the house safely somedays (literally missed my last doctor's appointment cause it turned out that wasn't a day to be out and about)
Like unprompted, not as some kind of exercise or something, I find myself being like "yeah it may have royally sucked, but it really has helped me get a feel for how my stomach is doing so maybe I appreciate it"
Feel like that's fairly gratitude minded when you can find yourself being grateful for basically months of being sick, you know?
...so fuck off an let me be. If me organically being grateful for a painful time in my life where a lot of nights I'd be worried about going to sleep and dealing with issues so bad I was worried about how I was gonna be able to take this trip unless I got lucky... if I just on my own end up being grateful for that and still want to put a bullet in my head, maybe gratitude isn't a cure all
Maybe piss off with it, you know? I'm the first to say it's good to be grateful for shit, and frankly even walls (even when there's insulation issues) are a fucking blessing and I'll always thank my house for everything it does for me
Still not a magic bullet against depression and I get fucking sick of everyone talking like it is one... like if I just gratituded harder I'd feel better
#as always; this is why I have my no advice without being willing to help implement it policy#I don't get to tell people what to do to feel better#I just get to offer support and get stuck in with helping try to change things for the better for them in my small ineffective ways#and you know they may never feel better; and that would fucking suck cause they deserve to#but I'm not gonna make them feel bad for being open and honest about how they're doing#and I'll just keep telling them the things I like about them till maybe one day they can internalize it#and... and I'll keep trying to do the small things I can to help support them in making changes#or if at all possible directly participate in making a change for them#rather have someone be miserable and honest about it than ever try to spare my feelings#no I never want them to be doing bad but I'd rather try to just sit with them through it than make them sit alone#and I'd rather fix it all... but sometimes neither of us fucking can right now... and it's time to wait with them#had someone dealing with a real shit situation#and you know what? I knew the exact fix for the shit situation#but here's the problem... people can't do shit till they're ready and me trying to force it would have made it worse#so I just hung out and let them vent and repeatedly made sure they knew they were making sense; validated their perception of reality#made an introduction so they had more people around who'd be in their corner building them up instead of tearing them down#eventually they made the fix I knew was the fix all along and it hurt like hell to do it#and yet things started getting better pretty much immediately; cause it was always the problem#and if I could go back and do it again I'd do it the same; I wouldn't force the fix any sooner cause it had to be their choice#and frankly me pushing could have sabotaged shit#and it's still hard; and often all I can do is sit with them as they ride shit out right now and... I don't like that#I want to fix things in every way for them; they deserve that#but I can't... so I'd rather be with them as things are than make them repair everything so I feel comfortable#that's my opinion on all this#and frankly if you want to dig up my nasty bitter fucking side I try to keep tamped down#this shit is a good way to bring that side of me out#like fuck off; either you're gonna help or you're being a fucking busy body#and you can shove your advice up your ass cause spoiler I fucking tried it#I never stop putting one foot in front of the other and it's got me a house and I cleaned that fucking trailer#so how about you stuff it if you don't like how miserable I am
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reuinx · 3 years
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Home (Yelena Belova x Reader)
Summary: You reunite with your girlfriend, Yelena Belova, as she’s been missing months after discovering Natashas death after the Blip.
Word Count: 2,171
Paring: Yelena Belova x Reader
Translations:  Malishka (Baby),  Prekrasnaya Devochka (Lovely Girl)
Masterlist
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Every morning, you got up beside the beautiful blonde who always looked at you with her piercing green eyes, observing every move as if you were so delicate that you could break. It was as if she blinked; you would vanish, just like that. Yelena always kept a formidable front to protect herself, but with you, she was like a flower in the morning sun. Nothing ever beats waking up with the one you love. Until they are gone, that is. Nothing extraordinary had taken place that day to make her leave, or at least nothing you could imagine. You had been counting the days since she left. 
You thought about her all the time in your spare time. That was until one day, they merged into one, and everything was beginning to become a blur. Once you stopped counting, you stopped counting forever. Friends and family stopped asking about her, so that helped. It was easier to pretend Yelena didn't exist than to miss her. Despite everything you do, though, reality eventually sets in, and you feel hollow again. Where was she? Was she okay? Who was she with? Did she ever think of you? The same questions would remain unanswered.
To avoid staying in the shared apartment, you filled your day with anything and everything you could think of. The moment night fell, you had no choice but to return home. After so long, the apartment no longer smelled like her. It was like she was a ghost. You began forcing yourself to sleep at night and continued the same process every day. You were running late tonight; you should have been grateful for that, but the rain had soaked you on the way home. Your umbrella decided that it was no match for the wind and miserably gave up with little to no effort. That is what you get for buying a cheap one. 
After reaching the apartment complex, you checked to see if you had any mail. You didn't. With your last bit of energy, you climbed the stairs to your apartment. The neighbors weren't fighting for once, which was a pleasant surprise. When you got to the door, you unlocked it and stepped into the vacant apartment, closing the door behind you. Something was wrong. Somebody was here. You could feel it in your gut. The darkness held a watchful eye over you. It was too late to turn around and unlock the door again. The light was flicked on to reveal the unwelcome guest. Yelena.
Your first thought was that it was someone else until you met her green eyes. You knew her eyes from anywhere. My Yelena. Although you had been thinking about this moment for months, seeing her in person left you speechless. She was drenched from the rain but still utterly gorgeous. In the past, she always stood tall radiating confidence, but not now. Her posture was slumped and tense. The t-shirt she was wearing had tiny flecks of red on it. You weren't sure if it was blood, but then you noticed that her nails were chipped. She had been picking at the varnish again. The only time she ever did that was when something bothered her.
"And here's me thinking you'd be happy to see me. Do you want me to leave and come back? She finally broke the lingering silence between you both. There is a growing distance between you two. The instinct to approach her struck you suddenly; she wasn't moving. Standing motionless, her eyes were fixed on what you were doing.
"I was expecting this," She added.
"Expecting this? Expecting what? Huh? You vanish for..? I don't know, four months? Five months-"
"It was seven," Yelena clarified.
"You aren't helping!"
"I can explain, I promise. Just give me a chance-" She pleaded with you, but you quickly cut her off from giving you an explanation.
"You just left. I didn't know if you were okay or worse, dead. You did that to me without a second thought, Yelena. You expect me to be okay with you? If it was the other way around, would you be okay with that?" You expressed with your hands, animating every word that passed your lips—waving in front of you as you grew passionate.
"I love when you do that. Talk with your hands" Yelena mimicked your gestures with her own hands before studying your expression. Despite her best intentions, she wasn't succeeding in making light of the situation. When she couldn't make you laugh, she knew something was seriously wrong.
"Don't do that."
"Don't do what?"
"Trying to avoid the conversation, Yelena."
"God, don't call me that. It makes you sound like my mother."
"What's the point of talking to you? You attempted to walk past her in the hallway as you snapped out, "It was easier talking to you when you weren't here." Although you wanted to step out of the situation for a moment, you couldn't.
"Malishka, don't be like that," Yelena commanded rather than asked. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't get away from the situation. Yelena stood before you now.
"I could slap you right now."
"Slap me then," She protested as she leaned in inches from your face, her eyebrows raised at you in a taunt. She wanted a reaction from you. Finally, you broke. As tears filled your eyes, you felt the need to blink. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't stop yourself from crying. Sobbing was a common sight for you. It is the ones you love the most that always hurt the worst.
"I hate you," You managed to spit out. Yelena leaned in with her warm breath lingering against your lips as she spoke.
"You don't hate me; you hate that I left." It felt like she wasn't saying that to you but rather to herself. As you leaned closer to her, you could still see the raindrops clinging to the loose strands of her hair. Despite Yelena's best efforts to keep the argument from escalating, something was wrong. It was apparent to you. While she argued, she often had a playful glint in her eyes and a half-smile that followed shortly after that. Her eyes appeared expressionless and empty.
The feeling was like looking into the mirror to see how you were when she left. What had happened to her? She moved away from you towards the coach as she plopped down. She was utterly defeated. Yelena's eyes had been fixed on her nails, and she refused to look at you. You knew when to continue arguing and now was not that time. It wasn't your desire to fight anymore but to get answers. Your only priority was to make sure the girl you loved was okay. Yelena needed you, and you needed her.
Approaching her cautiously, your voice was beginning to adopt a soft tone in hopes of easing her. "Hey, hey you." You called out as you squatted down in front of her and brought yourself as close as possible.
"Look at me" You reached over to carefully begin to skim your fingers among her rings that decorated her hands. After finally allowing the words to escape your lips, you carefully started to skim your fingers over the rings that adorned her hands. It was finally her turn to lift her eyes from her nails. The sadness filling her eyes caused her eyes to droop.
"What's happened, Yelena? You know you can tell me anything. All you have to do is talk, baby. Was it something I did? Why did you even come back?" You managed to say past your quivering lips finally. You had reached the point of anger where it boiled over, and now you feel defeated. Breaking down in front of Yelena is something you hate, but it's too late since crying was something you could not avoid tonight.
"I hate when you cry, my prekrasnaya devochka.” Yelena whispered in response with her hands carefully tapping on your shoulder blades. Her body language indicated that you should get up, and you did so without question. Her hands grasped your hips as she pulled you down onto her lap without ease. Her palms rested perfectly on either cheek was a pleasure to feel. She traced her thumbs carefully over the tears marks you left behind. Gentleness was evident in her touch. Her eyes carefully examined your lips. Yelena's presence had always been missed, but you hadn't realized how much you missed her touch. Within her touch, you had finally calmed down with ease. You knew she was in complete control over you, so it was unbelievable to admit that. She assured your safety.
"Why did I even come back?" Her response was as sharp and vicious as if she was shooting a dagger at you. Suddenly, her eyes bolted up from your lips and held your eyes in a burning gaze. Slowly, her lips twitched into a smile that almost seemed bitter. She smiled for the first time since you lost her. The butterflies you used to feel weren't there; they were replaced with something else... Worry.
"I- Well," Yelena stuttered out with her hands slowly dropping from your cheeks. It was unlike Yelena to fall over her words. Even with her witty comments, she was always so calculated. The time had come for her to explain herself finally. Would she? Would she give you an honest answer or avoid confrontation? What was she hiding from you?
"Hey, hey. It's okay, I've got you" You tried to reassure her, but your attempts were unsuccessful. Suddenly, her eyes appeared to be made of glass. The reflection of her tears being evident from her green eyes. It was unlike her to cry. She leaned back into the couch with her face beginning to scrunch up like a little kid. Her cheeks were starting to flush a crimson as she tried to hold herself together. Her body tensed underneath you before you felt it release after fighting so hard to contain the sadness.
Your arms were open to her as you took her in. If Yelena Belova didn't want you to do something, she would make sure you knew it. She cried bitterly into your shoulder. Instead of saying or doing anything, you held her for the first time.
"It's my sister." Yelena was broken to the core. In front of you, crumbling away. It took you a while to realize that the name was familiar to you.
"Natalia? Your sister? The um- The part-time Science teacher, right?" Yelena released a weak laugh at the story she had you believe. She wasn't doing it despite you but to protect you. You were kept in the dark about a lot of things by her. There were some things better left untouched. Yelena's past makes this more complicated.
"She..um.. she- she's just gone. I didn't know until that morning. The Blip happened, and we were gone; she was still here all this time. Probably on her own. Where was I? She was dead before I even came fucking back. Just rotting in the ground. She was just left there. I couldn't just leave her there on her own, but-“Yelena’s voice was trembling as she spoke every single word. The moment you had the chance to look at her, she revealed that she was completely vulnerable. This was not what you expected to be the reason for her absence, not even close. Leaning in, you placed a soft kiss on her forehead to comfort her, mumbling against her.
“I didn’t believe it at first, but then it became real and well… Here I am. Crying like a child Infront of you, it’s pathetic.”
“It’s not pathetic. Your sister died, Yelena. Why would you even think that’s pathetic?”
“It just is.”
“It’s not.”
"Mhm. I thought going out there to see it for myself was the only thing that was going to help. Give me that feeling of home again.”
“Well… Did it?”
“No. No matter where I went, nowhere felt like home to me. I..I have never felt more at home than here, with you. I hope I haven't fucked this up, have I? I can't fuck up anything else. I wasn’t taking this for granted, I swear. It wasn't until you came in with that stupid.. stupid umbrella that I felt at home again. I felt like everything is going to be okay for the first time in months. I just- I want you.. I needed you. The thought of you never left my mind, I swear. The only thing I wanted was to come home. My home has always been with you. Being away from you killed me, it kills me. I love you, I always have. I just-"While she struggled to get her words out, you sat silently. Rather than interrupting her, you wished to give her a chance.
"I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. You're home now, I'm here. I've got you. You’re safe."
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bonny-kookoo · 3 years
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Under Your Skin (JJK x Reader) | 🔞
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Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Goth/Punk!Jeon Jungkook x Secretary!Shy!Reader
Genre: Tattoo artist!AU, Badboy x Sweetgirl AU, Idk what else
Tags/Warnings: Ultimate goodboy Kook, He looks grr but is actually sweet, shy reader, smol reader, Kookers is WHIPPED, Also a tease, Dom!Jungkook because how could I not, Sub!Reader, Babygirl!Reader, Its not heavy on the whole ddlg-stuff but yeah they be having some vibes y'know, don't come @ me don't I'm not forcing you to read it lol, anyways moving on, because smut, yes I mean it's my content, and yall nasty admit it, slight hair pulling, manhandling also only a little, oral (f & m receiving), praising, mentions of emotional and physical insecurities, but Kook be supportive so we good, back to the nasty, body worship yes pls, biting, fingering, because why not, protected sex because we keep it clean in this household, light-hearted sex, kook being a romantic goof, yeah I think thats it?
Summary: Jungkook looks like absolute trouble; like one wrong look could set him off, and turn him into an absolute murderer. But oh well, ever heard the phrase 'Never judge a book by its cover'?
A/N: you might have noticed me only putting one emoji up top. I have decided to from now on only mark my adult fics with emojis (which is basically almost every single one lets be real). Also; stop reading my fucking fics if any of the tagged/warned things make you uncomfortable. I'm tired of everyone clowning in my inbox telling me how disgusting ddlg/smut content is. You can't even tell me you 'read it by accident' because that's why I'm always putting the cut underneath my fics =) so pls go finish preschool and then we can maybe shake hands. Maybe not. Covid and all. Yeah.
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On the outside, Jeon Jungkook seems like absolute trouble.
He's working at a tattoo and piercing studio, dresses in all black, clattering chains and heavy boots always alerting everyone around of his presence. His long black hair is never truly tamed, his nails painted black, and his face expressionless most of the time. He's a talented artist and well trained piercer, always visiting conventions to keep up with the newest trends, styles, and equipment there is. He takes his job seriously- and is proud of it, knowing that he had proven his family wrong by now. They had been worried about him; especially his mother had scolded him that he shouldn't throw his time away trying to make it in a world of art many had already failed. But last year, he had finally invited them over to his rather nice apartment, showing them that he was living a good life, with nothing to really worry about.
Jungkook had made it.
Well, not quite.
Because as of currently, Jungkook had a new mission, a new goal.
"Ah, Jungkook!" You say, eyes sparkling as you smile at him when he enters the shop he works at. You had recently started to work there as well, since Taehyung was absolute shit at keeping files in order and track of schedules. You hadn't applied for the job specifically, that's at least what his coworker had told him- he had known you prior already, and was aware that you had wanted a change these days.
And Jungkook had been painfully crushing on you ever since you started.
"Your schedule for the week is already here- I uhm.. didn't put it on your desk cause, I didn't want to intrude your space and all.." You say, giving him a small black booklet where you always noted down his appointments. He appreciated it a lot- knowing how much of a hassle it could be to move dates back and forth just to somehow make it fit. You always made sure that he had enough time in between multiple daily pieces in case something took longer or less so you could make sure to be able to move things accordingly. You didn't want him to get overworked, you had said. He had smiled.
"Thanks- and you can go inside, no problem." He says, and you nod. "I know you don't make a mess, like someone else here." He says, hinting at Namjoon, who was known to be quite clumsy- yet a mastermind when it came to designing pieces he struggled with. Jungkook stayed at your front desk for a bit, making you tilt your head a bit, as you tried not to stare. He always took so much care of himself, you would have had to be blind not to see how attractive he actually was. But then again, you didn't get your hopes up- after all, he was nice to almost everyone around. "You've never been in there, right?" He asks, and you shake your head. You haven't been in his space at all- too scared to invade his privacy and making him upset in the process. "I mean- you got time right now? I can show you around." He casually tells you, and you look at your computer screen in front of you. Everything had been filed for today- so you probably had a bit of time to spare.
"Sure." You said, taking your phone and standing up from your chair, making sure to lock the pc so no one would accidentally make a mess out of your tabs. Or worse; close them. God knows all hell would break loose.
Jungkook had to really force himself not to let out any noise as you walked next to him.
You were so tiny next to him.
He wasn't that tall to be honest- with Namjoon and Taehyung both taller than him, he knew he was average at best. And for the longest time, he'd had a thing for tall girls, all elegant and confident. He still liked their aesthetic, yes- but now that he spotted you, he could really see the appeal of having a shorter significant other.
You were so cute.
You carefully stepped inside when Jungkook lifted the curtain that was used instead of a door, surprised to see how.. organized everything was. A little.. off- some things seemed to be randomly put somewhere, but in general, it seemed like everything had their proper spot. "I like to have it like this." He comments, and you nod your head to that, finally spotting his tattoo-gun. It was made out of purple steel- polished, and changing its hue depending on how you looked at it. It was absolutely beautiful, even though you had a rather limited understanding of these things. "Was a present from Taehyung last year." Jungkook says, sitting down on his chair. "I never asked- are you inked at all?" He asks, leaning backwards as you stand there a little awkwardly. "You can sit down somewhere, don't be so tense." He chuckles, and you look around, before you sit on the stretcher across from him. You shake your head, and Jungkook isn't surprised. Your pink converse sway back and forth as you sit on the stretcher, legs too short to reach the floor anymore as you rest your hands underneath your thighs; hem of your dress revealing more of them than he can usually see.
"I don't have any tattoos yet, but I've been talking to Namjoon about it." You said, and Jungkooks saliva tastes a little bitter at that. He doesn't want to pout or give away that it's bugging him at all that you're not talking to him about it- but he fails miserably. "Namjoon actually said I should talk to you about it, since the style I want fits you best." You say, and he can't hide his smile, bunny teeth on full display as he leans forward a bit.
"You'd let me tattoo you?" He asks, and you shrug, before nodding. "What do you have in Mind?" He instantly asks, not even bothering to hide his excitement.
If only you knew that it's because of you; and not just because he's gonna be the first to ink you.
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You've both agreed on a design you want, and Jungkook can't deny that he thinks it's absolutely perfect on you.
"Are you scared?" Jungkook asks you as he prepares everything, his sweater's sleeves rolled up, revealing his own body art to you, as well as some bracelets; one that you recognize as the wooden-bead bracelet you had gifted him last year for his birthday. It was weird to see him wear it.
"I.. no. Just nervous." You say. "I'm worried I might cry and make a fool out of myself." You say with a laugh, and Jungkook chuckles, placing a reassuring and warm hand on your upper arm.
"It's fine. I've seen grown man cry like kids on this stretcher before." He casually says. "Don't worry; I won't think any less of you just because of some tears." He says with a smile, and you nod, turning your head to look at his room's walls instead; covered in drawings, sketches, and pictures of finished works he was most proud of. "Do you want anything to hold onto?" He asks, as he starts to shave the skin of your thigh to make sure he can work as best as possible. He's so into his work, so concentrated on doing everything perfect, that he doesn't even take much into account that you're laying in only your panties and oversized sweater; skirt neatly placed on a chair in the corner of the room, to get it out of the way.
"It's fine" You mumble, although you really want to. So instead you curl your fingers around the fabric of your sweater- something that doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook, who decides not to comment on it for now. He simply throws the one-time razor away as well as the tissues used to clean your skin, before he carefully places the tracing paper onto where he seems fit.
"I think it would look great right here." He says lowly, carefully removing the paper to reveal the lines he's gonna trace with his gun in a few minutes. "You wanna look at it again?" He asks, and you shake your head. "Alright." He says, before he gets up and walks out his room; only to return with your small squishy and round unicorn plush that's usually sitting on your desk. "To hold onto." He winks, and you chuckle at that.
Jungkook really pays attention.
"So, Taehyung has told me you're a bit younger than me." Jungkook says to start casual chit-chat, trying to help your nervousness as his tattoo-gun starts to buzz to live. "Only a Year if I remember correctly." He says, and you nod.
"Yeah.." You say, and can't hide your dissapoinment flooding your voice. Jungkook, until now, only had relationships with girls older than him. He's even said before that he just likes having someone older than him around- which made you even more nervous around him.
"You sound upset about that." He chuckles, and gently holds onto your thigh as you jump a bit when he first presses the tip of the gun down. "Sorry. I'll be gentle." He lowly tells you, and you swallow.
Not the time Y/N, not the time.
"Uhm.." You say, fingers digging into the squishy plush in your hands. "I.. there's someone I like, but he.. only likes older girls, so.." You say, and Jungkook glances at you. You're already interested in someone? He continues to trace the lines, wiping afterwards to get the excess ink and blood off. "But I mean, then again I don't think I have a chance with him anyways." You chuckle, and Jungkook can't help but shake his head. Even if you're interested in someone else, he shouldn't let you have thoughts like that.
"Highly doubt that." He says. "If he doesn't see you, he's blind." He tells you, and you giggle, glad that he's able to make you feel a bit better about everything. "I'm serious." He says, and you nod at that, watching his inked arm flex every now and then as he draws with absolute concentration; black facemask hiding half of his face. You can see the way his eyebrows furrow, eyes fixated on his work as he moves with absolute routine. "Do I know the guy?" He casually asks, before he dips the tip of his gun in the tiny pot of ink again.
You don't know what to say.
He looks at you for a second, and decides not to dig. "You don't have to tell me. Sorry if I seemed nosy; didn't mean to." He apologizes, and you shake your head to let him know its fine. It's quiet for a moment afterwards, only the buzzing of his gun and your occasional whine of pain. "Sorry; it'll hurt a bit more now since I'm getting close to your inner thigh- that's always a little more sensitive." He comments, and you really hope he doesn't pay much attention to your panties.
When you can see his eyes stick to them for a second, you really want to just disappear.
He doesn't comment on it though. What is he suppsosed to say? He really doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, and considering that you already have a crush on someone else, he doesn't want to get himself in too deep as well. He simply works away, finally finishing the thin and delicate outlines of your piece- the first step, before he will see you again for color and shading. He finally connects the last line, and doesn't think twice about what he says next.
"Good girl."
It takes a second that feels way too long for the both of you to register the words, and Jungkook quickly occupies himself with turning off his gun and cleaning up your skin and his workspace to get the awkwardness out of his room. You try to instantly stand up, but his palm holds onto your leg- silently ordering you to stay put, which you do. He rubs something over the piece, before he gently lifts your leg to wrap it. "I'll give you a bottle of lotion for it. Leave that bandage on for.. I'd say until tomorrow morning at least. Afterwards, apply the lotion everyday to help it heal properly." He lectures you with a gentle voice, before letting you sit up.
"Thanks." You say, grinning eagerly at the now hidden artwork on your leg. Jungkook chuckles.
"We're not done yet, but I'll take it." He says. "I uh.." He starts, as you jump off the stretcher and go to take on your skirt. "uhm, you up for some fast food?" He asks, a bit hurried, before he can chicken out again. And he hates himself for a moment, because you had literally told him just half an hour before that you already had interest in someone else. But maybe you were too innocent to get his innuendo, maybe you wouldn't get that he was asking you on a date-
"Like a date?" You ask, and he really wants to hit himself.
"I mean, if you want it to be?" He says, swallowing as he averts his gaze, a sight very weird. His hand runs through his hair, chain around his neck and piercings on his ears clattering against each other and making sounds as he moves, his combat boots nervously tapping the floor a little. "It doesn't have to be.. I know you're already-"
"I'd love to." You say however, now fully dressed again, as you grin with your bright sparkling eyes.
And Jungkook feels like he's won the lottery.
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It's your third time laying on Jungkooks' stretcher like this- waiting for him to work on your art, finishing it today. But the energy is different.
Things are different between you two in general.
After some casual movie dates and rounds of overwatch, Jungkook had admitted to you that he had a crush. It was rushed, while he was driving, so he didn't have to look at you and instantly get hit by your reaction. But then, you had told him that you felt the same- and the two of you agreed to let things process from then on. Whatever would happen; you would let happen.
And Jungkook was starting to flirt with you.
It was a little weird to get close to him like that. While everyone seeing you two was a little taken aback- with your dresses and skirts, and colorful and almost childish personality, he seemed like the absolute opposite- quiet, all dark and dangerous while carrying your milkshake so you could put your phone away into your purse.
"Alright doll, let's finish this." He said with newfound enthusiasm, winking at you as you laughed at his demeanor.
"You seemed more excited than me!" You say, and he chuckles. "You're really desperate to have me gone?" You say in a playfully upset tone, and he simply huffs out a breath, before cockily looking at you for a second.
"That's not true." He says. "I'd just rather have you laid out somewhere else than in my studio, that's all." He casually says, and you shut your mouth at that, cheeks red as he laughs at your cute display of embarrassment. He routinely prepares your skin, before he starts his gun. "Too much?" He asks, and you know he's not talking about the pressure of his ink filled gun on your skin.
"No-" You start, and he now seriously speaks to you, voice a bit muffled through his facemask.
"Please tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable." He says. "You're not upsetting me if you tell me I'm going to far." He says, and you nod, knowing that he now needs a proper answer. Jungkook is way more attentive and romantic than people may think he is. He's a gentleman pulled out of a dictionary- careful and gentle with you, and always keen on getting to know you for you, and not for the person you like to portray yourself as. He wants to know what you like, what you don't like, what you dream of, and what you hate about yourself.
"Don't worry- I will." You say, watching him work on your skin. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums a reply to let you know he's listening. "Is it okay if I sleep?" You ask, and he chuckles.
"Didn't I tell you not to stay up for too long before I left yesterday?" He teasingly retorts back to you, and you pout at him- with no hard feelings behind it. He had left last night after eating with you for dinner at your place; and he did indeed tell you to go to sleep a little earlier since he knew you would have an early shift today, opening up the store. "I'm really tempted to say no." He says, eyes now on your skin again as he dips the tip of his gun in a pot of color. "You know, as punishment for not listening." He mumbles, and you almost don't catch it.
Almost.
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"Jungkook?" Taehyung stands in his doorway, finally finding him sitting at his desk. "Oh?" He says in a surprised tone, spotting your sleeping figure on his coworkers lap- head resting against the inside of his shoulder, with your arms around his middle.
"Yeah?" Jungkook asks, not at all shy or fazed by the fact that Taehyung is looking at you. "What is it?" He asks again, as Taehyung smiles, giving the younger man his small booklet that you usually give him every morning.
"Nothing left for today." He said. "Just wanted to tell you good work and send you home." The older one explains, zipping up his own jacket. "Guess she'll be coming with you?" He asks teasingly, but Jungkook doesn't bite the bait at all.
"Yeah. Don't burn the house down while we're gone, you two. " He says, slipping the booklet into his pocket before he pats your back. "Come on doll, let's go home." He tells you, waking you up at least enough to put on your shoes and lead you out the store to his car.
He buckles your seatbelt as the engine comes alive, radio playing its tune softly in the background as he drives you home. "You awake doll?" He asks, and you nod your head, turning towards him with barely open eyes. "You haven't had anything proper to eat today, so I'll make us some ramen at my place, ok?" He asks, and you nod, before your eyebrows scrunch up. "What is it?" He chuckles, and you now grow more awake.
"Wait- but if we eat at yours then you're gonna have to drive me home late." You say, and he shrugs. "Noo, Kook, what if you crash the car because you're sleepy?" You tell him with a whine, genuinely concerned for him, as he has the audacity to laugh. "Kookie, it's not funny I swear to god-!" You say, and he apologizes.
"I mean." He starts, casually dropping what he had wanted to ask you for a couple of weeks now. "You could always just stay over." He tells you, and you look at him, meeting his gaze at the red light he stops at, his head turned towards you for a moment until the lights turn green again.
"We.. would have to stop at mine so I could get some stuff though.." You mumble, and Jungkook looks at you with newfound enthusiasm, setting his turning lights to enter a different road.
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It's in a parking lot that you first unintentionally confront him with your biggest insecurities and flaws.
You've tripped over a stray stone you didn't see laying on the ground, leading you to fall onto your hands and scraping your knees open. Just like any normal human being, you dust yourself off, instantly hoping that Jungkook inside the shop hadn't seen you fail at something so basic as walking. You had carried some of the items you two had bought into the car while also returning the shopping cart while he had payed- and by the look on his face, he had definitely seen you.
He wasn't laughing, or hiding his grin, or anything alike. He looked concerned, taking his card back from the cashier before walking out the store, jogging towards you, who sat in the open trunk, ready to get laughed at. Even though somewhere deep in your mind you didn't think he would, past experiences had led to you now having that fear, no matter with whom. "Are you okay?" Jungkook asks, looking at you as he squats down to take a look at your bleeding knees. He reaches into one of the shopping bags, taking out a water bottle and a pack of tissues, before he wets it, one hand holding your leg by the backside of your knee, while the other carefully cleans the small wound. "You gotta be careful Baby." He chuckles a little- nothing like the laughter you had expected.
"I'm fine." You say, not looking up at him.
"It's okay to cry, you know?" He says, and you stay quiet, trying not to breathe too much as you desperately hold them back. "I won't laugh." He promises, deciding not to look at you as to give you a bit more space.
"People will stare though.." You quietly murmur towards him, and he finishes his job, before he goes to throw the now used tissue away in a nearby trashcan. When he returns, he's taking his jacket off, the item way too large on your form as he throws it over you, pulling the hood up as you look at him for the first time since your little accident, eyes sparkling with unshed tears when he pulls the sides of the hood towards him a little. "There." He says, a reassuring smile on his face. "Now no one can see you but me." He tells you. "And I will never, ever, laugh at you." He promises, and pulls your head against his chest, as you start to let go.
He really hates to see you cry- but he's glad that you're letting him in enough to let him see you this way.
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Jungkook is frustrated.
He tries not to really show it, because he doesn't want to blow up in your face like that, but then again, you're kind of the reason he feels the way he does. Because even though he thought you both had a genuine connection, you're yet to let him touch you.
And not just hugging and holding hands.
It's not that he's impatient- its because he knows you, at one point, wanted him that way as well. But something happened, something he didn't notice, that made you take ten steps backwards from him. You seemed to be retreating, giving up, and he has no idea what he had done to make you react that way.
As far as he knows, he had done everything right.
But then he sees them; the messages sent back and forth between you and Hana, a returning customer at the shop- well known to flirt with everyone around here. Jungkook himself had actually considered hooking up with her once a year back, simply to make her shut up, but then again, he wasn't into one-night-stands. And she had never truly been his type anyways.
'Ah yeah, just re-schedule that then, I don't mind at all! Just make sure we have enough time together, since we haven't had time to catch up on things recently, if you know what I mean.' She had sent, a week ago; exactly the timeframe you had started to distance yourself. He knew he shouldn't look into it, but then again- this was his business too. He had the right to know.
'Sure? I can give you an appointment at around 4 PM then, so you'll be the last one. Would that be okay with you? Again, sorry for re-scheduling on such short notice.' You had written, and Jungkook can't decide if you had been oblivious to her implication (which was bullshit), or if you were simply too polite to call her out. But it's the next messages that make him fume.
'Again, no troubles. As I said, I only care that its Jungkookie, I don't really trust anyone else with my body that way ;). 4 PM is perfect, you guys still close at around 6 PM right? He's got skilled hands, I'm sure we don't need much more time, if you know what I mean.' she has the audacity to write.
But its your answer that makes him fume.
'Good to know.'
"Jungkook?" You say, looking at the screen, as you suddenly dash forwards, trying to shut the screen off- as if that would make any difference. But he catches your wrist with ease, holding it in his palm as he looks at you.
"Do you think I'm sleeping with her?" He asks, and you try to escape his grasp; and he lets you, staying at your workspace however as he keeps you locked in place with his gaze. "Y/N." He urges, making you look away from him.
"It's none of my business." You say, shrugging. "I.. No, it's-" You start, but he cuts you off.
"No, finish that sentence. 'No' what?" He says, and you've never heard him talk like that.
"I just.. didn't think you'd.. do that." You meekly say, murmuring it as he tilts your head gently upwards to look at him; his face now more relaxed as he softly smiles.
"That's good that you think that way." He tells you. "Because I don't do that at all." He says. "She likes to start drama all the time- was probably bitter I turned her down so much. You know what?" He suddenly says, turning towards the screen as he clicks to change the account, opening his own Inbox as he starts to write an E-Mail.
'Appointment is cancelled, be glad I'm not suing you for defamation. JK.'
"Jungkook-" You say, trying to get him not to send it- but it's already gone. "Why would you do that? Just because I misunderstood?" You whine, and he chuckles, shutting down the system as he looks at the clock, signaling that it's closing time.
"No." He says. "But because I don't want her around anyways, and this gives me a proper reason." He tells you, ruffling your hair as he looks at you. "You coming?" He asks, and you nod, taking your bag and coat before following him out the shop.
In the car, you finally speak up. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums out a reply. "Do you.. think I'm attractive?" You ask, and he clears his throat at the unexpected question.
"I- what?" He asks, unsure what you mean.
"Just.. Namjoon said, that he thinks you.. see me as a friend only? Because I'm nothing like the girls you dated before.. If I misunderstood something here then Oh my god-" You start to ramble, and Jungkook laughs suddenly.
"You think I'm not into you?" He asks, and you shrug. "Of course I want to fuck you doll." He casually comments, and you can't help but feel your cheeks redden. "Wait- did you really think I didn't?" He asks, face showing genuine horror as he looks over at you.
"I mean.. you never really initiated anything so I thought.." You started, and he groans out.
Thank god you're staying the night.
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"Looks so pretty, does it?" He hums out, palm running over the tattoo on your thigh, delicate lines and well-placed shadings complimenting the colors perfectly. "You know why I love it most?" He starts, hand suddenly gripping the flesh for a moment, before he pulls you closer on his lap by the small of your back. "Because that's mine." He says, before he leans in, placing an open mouthed kiss against your pulse. "The ink that's under your skin, the design, the idea-" He mumbles against your skin. "And the body it's drawn on." You whine at his tone, dark and low, as he urges you back and forth on his clothed thigh- your panties suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Isn't it like that, baby?" He asks, and you nod, furiously, and he chuckles. "Hm, you seem out of breath baby.." He grins at you, like a predator.
"Jungkook.." You whine, not knowing what you're asking for.
He wordlessly moves, helping you lay down on his bed before he crawls over you, his lips instantly attached to the skin of your neck, hands helping you out of your dress wordlessly, as he can't help but let his gaze linger on your body for a moment. "I can't believe that-" He says, pulling off your overknee socks. "-you'd ever think of yourself anything less than perfect." He says, placing a gentle kiss to the colorful image now forever placed under your skin by his skilled hands. He continues to display his affection over your skin, wandering over your stomach up to your chest, where he playfully bites just above your breast. He struggles with the front of your bra for a second, unsure how to open the undergarment without breaking it, as you help a little; letting them spring free. But only for a moment.
Because in the next, he's got them in his hands, palms gently moving over them, feeling their softness as he groans. "You're so sweet." he comments, as he finally kisses your lips, smile interrupting him every now and then. "So soft." Another kiss. "So delicate." Another one. "And all mine, yeah?" He asks, and you nod, smiling as he grins back, the expression making him look so young and carefree you can't help but wonder how anyone could ever think he's a bad man.
He's anything but.
He's so careful touching you, so delicate in moving his palms over your skin, as if its the most divine thing he's ever felt. He's still smiling, as if in a trance, while he can't stop kissing you. Your hands move into his hair- way softer than you thought it would be, and he groans into your mouth at the feeling of your fingers running over his scalp.
There's no urgency in anything he does.
He slowly moves again, hands opening your legs for him as he sits back on his heels, playfully pulling you closer by the backs of your knees, making you giggle. "You sound so sweet baby." He tells you, innocently, as if he's not currently placing his hand onto your center, ring finger collecting your already leaking wetness before he spreads it, moving his thumb over your most sensitive bundle of nerves while his ring finger enters you slowly. You whine at the feeling, not enough to get you as riled up as you'd like to be. Also; this is the first time you're genuinely experiencing foreplay. You don't know what to do- and Jungkook seems to pick up on that. "You good?" He asks, and you nod.
"I.." You say, breathless as he tilts his head, smile still present on his lips. "What should I do?" You ask, as his eyes widen.
"You?" He wonders, before he stops for a moment. "Don't tell me- this is your first time?" He asks, now genuinely worried he might've gone too fast.
"No.." You admit. "But uhm.. no one's ever, like.. you know, what you're doing.." You say, and that's when it clicks for him.
What kind of guys did you date before him that never gave you any attention like this? He's upset by it, but also weirdly cheered on by that simple fact; it gives him even more reason to make sure you'll get the most out of it. "Ah, I see.." He humms out, letting another finger stretch your entrance for him. "..well, I'm not like that." He explains, before he moves, face now close to your center- and you're unsure what he's going to do. "Trust me." He says, mumbles out, before his tongue places itself flat onto your clit, licking painfully slow as you move your hands over your mouth, trying to keep your noises in. "nuh-uh baby." He scolds, free hand pulling yours away. "Let me hear you." He demands, before he places his mouth back where it was.
Your mind is completely blank at this moment, the only thing you can really concentrate on being Jungkook, working you up so quickly you feel dizzy. It's new, and it's a little weird- but it's more than anything you've ever experienced before. And it brings you towards your end so suddenly you suddenly gasp out, back arching off the mattress as you grab at the sheets below, one hand grasping for Jungkooks, who lets you ride out your high to its fullest. "So pretty." He comments after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling at your blissed out state.
"Kook-" You say, moving as you sit up, less shy now that your brain is still clouded by pleasure.
"Ah- you don't have to." He tells you, but you shake your head, and he lets you. He slips out of his clothes, finally bare, and you would've taken time to look at all the different pieces of art decorating his body- if it wasn't for his cock, red and ready in front of you. Usually, you would've let your insecurities and doubts get the best of you. But this was Jungkook. And you wanted to really believe that nothing you would do could ever be judged by him. So there was no hesitation as your hands reached out for him, gently moving, before you took him in, your lips wrapping themselves around his tip, before you moved downwards, fitting as much as you comfortably could. Meanwhile, Jungkook himself was steadying himself with one hand on the mattress, while the other was buried into your hair, his own head thrown back as he closed his eyes.
Of course he had fantasized about this every now and then; but he had never thought you'd actually be comfortable doing it. And even if- nothing he could've imagined would've ever compared to the real deal happening. There was something absolutely mindblowing about the way that you handled him, your sweet and pretty presence looking so divine doing such a sinful act with him. He had to pull you off by your hair, gently, because any more, and he would've been a goner. "G-Good god baby." He chuckles, pushing you a bit so you were on your back again, reaching for his bedside table to search for a condom. "I swear to god if I- HAH!" He tells you in victory, hands making quick work of opening the foil package and wrapping the safety over his length. "I swear I would've run out butt naked to buy one if I wouldn't have found this." He says with a grin, making you laugh.
"That's weird." You comment, and he chuckles, entering you slowly as to not hurt you, his breathing labored as he still kept the lighthearted energy going.
"You think?" He asks, and you nod, giggling as your eyes close, the feeling of him filling you up too good to keep them open. "Hm no." He said breathlessly. "Would've probably put on some pants maybe." He says, before he starts thrusting. "Doesn't matter if it means I'd get to fuck you." He says, and you giggle again.
"Kook!" You scold him, and he still continues to thrust into you, exhaling forcefully as he kisses your neck.
"What?" He whines high pitched as if to imitate you.
"Be serious!" You tell him, but can't help your own smile either.
"Oh, why though?" He says. "We're making love, not war baby." He whispers into your ear, and you still laugh at it.
"I can't believe you!" You complain playfully, moaning out when he suddenly thrusts with more force, obscene noises now interrupting you two as he picks up his pace, clenching his jaw.
"And-" He starts. "I can't believe how fucking good you feel." He presses out, hand now reaching between the two of you as he brings you towards an earth-shattering orgasm, making you mewl as you can feel yourself bursting. "Good girl!" He praises, watching as you squirt all over him, his own orgasm hitting him soon after as he grunts out, finally slowing down until he stills completely, his mouth attached to your neck to place gentle kisses and teasing bites near your pulse point.
"I love you." He mumbles out, and your eyes sting.
Because yeah, you love him- you absolutely do, but hearing it from him, hearing it in such an honest and warm-hearted tone, having this final proof of his own feelings towards you, makes you emotional. "Baby, why're you crying?" He chuckles out of breath, wiping your tears as you smile, and finally look at him with glossy eyes.
"Cause I love you too." You say. "So much."
And he can't help but grin at you.
You really are the sweetest thing.
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You watch as Hana walks out of Taehyungs studio, arm wrapped up in clear foil as she walks towards your counter, pulling out her purse. "Taehyung agreed on 345." She says, until Taehyung yells another number out of his studio, making her eyes roll. She wasn't supposed to come back- but Taehyung had agreed to finish her piece at least. "Alright, here you go." She says, watching as you counted the money. "Does Jungkook work today?" She asks, and you nod. "I'm just gonna go say hi then. You can finish the receipt yeah?" She says overly sweet, and you're about to tell her that Jungkook doesn't want anyone entering without his permission, but he's already walking out his studio, black sweater and silver necklaces on full display as he walks towards you. "Jungkookie!" Hana exclaims, but her face drops almost chomically as she watches Jungkook walk up behind you, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder as he looks over it onto your screen.
"Oh, looks like I'm done for the day. You need anything Hana?" He asks innocently, one hand on your desk while the other rests on your chair behind your back.
"I- just wanted to apologize for uhm.. the emails. I didn't know you'd read them." She says, and you slowly close all programs, while Jungkooks humms out something.
"Yeah, I figured." He says, before he shakes his head. "As I said, I'm letting it go. No hard feelings." He says, shrugging, before he walks towards his studio again, stopping in his tracks for a second. "Ah, baby, can you text Jin-Hyung and ask him if we can come now? I'm actually starving I swear." He says, and you nod with red cheeks, pulling out your phone.
"Huh." Comes from Hana, as she takes the receipt from you. "I honestly.. would've never thought." She mumbles, before she simply leaves, without any more words.
Yeah. You would've honestly never thought either.
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(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi.com/bonnykookoo. Thank you for reading.
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977 notes · View notes
mypimpademia · 4 years
Text
Worth It.
Shinso x reader
TW: Swearing, reader steals a man, pure bad bitchery
Note: this concept has been in my head for literal MONTHS and now I'm finally writing it bc i had no idea how to before (i still dont know how to write it as I'm writing this, I'm bouta wing it like a mf)
I made Intelli the mean girl for this fic bc she a bitch fr
A college AU but its hardly relevant + a lil smau
Towards the end of writing this, I started hating it. I'm so sorry😭
I recommend this song too bc this is where the idea for this fic came from:
This was getting annoying to watch.
How long was Hitoshi planning to stay miserable with that girl?
Intelli and Hitoshi have been dating for awhile now. You had honestly never liked her, but you just barely tolerated her for Hitoshi. But only a few weeks into their relationship, things went to shit.
Intelli became overly controlling over him, and even tried to force him to stop being friends with you, and some other people. You, being his best friend, told him to break up with her.
Of course, Hitoshi agreed that it'd be best to do that. But not even a few hours after talking to him about it, he came back to say it didn't go as planned.
Intelli was holding blackmail over Hitoshi's head, and posed a huge threat to his dreams of becoming a hero. Most of what she said she'd expose was no where near true, but with her intellect she could easily make people believe it.
But frankly, as their relationship went on, the sight of even a strand of her hair made you want to either puke or fight her.
"Toshi~" Intelli cooed, coming up behind Hitoshi and wrapping her arms around his neck.
Hitoshi visibly cringed, but tried to hide it as best as he could.
"Hey, babe." He boredly muttered, doing a terrible job at faking any enthusiasm.
Unlike your best friend, you made no effort to hide the disgust you held for her sheer presence.
"Y/n..." Intelli muttered, her tone dripping with distaste for you, making you scoff. "Mind if I steal Toshi for a bit? No? Thanks-" She attempted to drag Hitoshi away by the arm, but you placed a firm hand on her shoulder to stop her.
"I do mind actually, we were in the middle of a conversation before you interrupted." You told her. She chuckled, before tugging on Hitoshi's arm more.
"Yes, but he's my boyfriend-" She attempted to give reason for her to take him away, before even Hitoshi stopped her.
"I've got a project I need Y/n to help me on, I can stop by your dorm later though?" Hitoshi suggested, lying through his teeth.
Intelli's eyebrow twitched, but she gave in, letting go of his arm. "Bye, Toshi." She said, kissing Hitoshi's cheek and looking you up and down, before walking off.
"Sometimes, I can't tell if she's just plain a bitch or if she's secretly a dumbass." You sighed. "Maybe she's a little bit of both..." Hitoshi chuckled, making you laugh with him.
"You really need to find someone new." You told him, shaking your head. "I know, but I'd rather not chance losing my dream career." He groaned.
"True... Whats your type anyways? I know its not Intell anymore, she's probably traumatized you." You giggled.
"She did, but I think my type is someone who can really understands me, and someone I can have fun with." Hitoshi said.
"Like a best friend?" You questioned him. "Yeah, exactly like a best friend. That'd be my perfect version of a s/o." He replied, expression growing soft.
Since Intelli and Hitoshi's relationship had gone down hill, you've been there for him more than ever. It eventually lead to this unspoken romance that constantly roamed between the two of you.
But because of Intelli, neither of you pursued it, for the wellbeing of Hitoshi.
"Well, if I were you, I'd find someone and just make sure the bitch doesn't find out." You told him. But if you were being honest, it was more like a suggestion, because he really did need, and deserve someone other than Intelli.
"Like cheating?" He gawked. You were both thinking the same thing— Intelli would likely find out. But it was better than simply being stuck with her, so you nodded.
"Well, I'd at least make sure the other person knows. But it'd be worth it."
'I'm worth it.' You thought.
You sighed, looking down at your phone, the time on your phone displayed.
"Shit, I've gotta get to class, we've got a guest lecturing us and my professor will tear me a new one if I miss it." You told him, stuffing your phone into your pocket.
"See you later?" Hitoshi asked you.
You were about to say something about how he told Intelli they'd hang out later, but decided against it.
"Yeah."
◇◇◇◇◇◇
You sighed, feeling your tired feet throb as you walked down the hall to Hitoshi's dorm. Taking one of your backpack straps off your shoulder, you began rummaging around the pocket where you usually kept the spare key to Hitoshi's dorm.
You blinked, as you weren't able to find the key in the small pocket. You began searching your entire bag in the middle of the hallway, taking nearly everything out.
"Shit." You mumbled, thinking you had lost it.
Then you remembered, 'Thats right, I was in a rush this morning. Its on my desk.' You thought to yourself.
Like hell you were going all the way back there though.
You placed your items back into their bags, then pulled out your phone to text Hitoshi.
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You hummed, rocking back and forth on your heels as you waited for the door to be opened.
A moment later, you heard the lock click, and the door swung open.
Hitoshi looked you up and down before smiling. Then looked both ways of the hall, before tugging you into the room and shutting the door.
"Why are you treating me like a side piece or something?" You questioned him.
He hummed in confusion as he locked the door.
"Does it feel like that? Sorry." He apologized. "What did she do this time?" You asked, referring to Intelli, as she wash the only person the put Hitoshi this on edge.
"She said if we were doing anything other than a project we'd break up, and you know what that means." He told you, shaking his head.
You hummed, and pulled out your phone.
"What are you doing?" He asked, peering over your shoulder.
"You'll see." You blunty told him.
You sent your message, and tossed your phone onto his bed.
You grabbed onto Hitoshi's collar, tugging him towards you so he was looking you in the eyes, making his breath hitch as his face tinted red.
"You're crazy if you think I'd get you snitched on." You playfully consoled.
"What did you do?" He questioned again, watching you flop down on his bed as you kicked off your shoes.
"I texted Monoma and Momo to post about a project on private snap that only has Intelli on it so that it'll be more believable." You told him.
Hitoshis eyes went wide, as he mentally questioned how you came up with that so fast.
You patted the space next to you, beckoning him to sit with you.
He sat down, shaking his head and laughing.
You and Hitoshi talked for hours and hours, but it each flew by. When you finally checked the time, you barely had enough time left before dorm visiting hours were over.
"What? Already?" Hitoshi gaped, as he watched you sling your backpack over your shoulder.
"Mhm." You hummed.
He groaned, clearly not wanting you to leave, but sat up anyways so he could come see you out.
Hitoshi unlocked the door for you, but upon opening the door, you were both met with an unwanted sight.
"Hey Toshi!" Intelli greeted, completely passing over you even though she saw you.
"H-hey, Intelli." Hitoshi spurred, trying to keep composure.
"I came to help on the project. Even Momo was complaining, so I thought you could use some help." She offered, clearly not convinced that there was actually a project.
But like you said, you weren't going to let him get caught.
"No, we finished it." You told her bluntly, folding your arms across your chest.
But clearly, Intelli didn't plan on letting up either.
"Well then, I could proof read the written portion." She insisted, taking a step towards you.
"We already did that already."
"Well I'm sure there are some mistakes."
"We triple checked."
Hitoshi looked back and forth between the two of you, silently preparing himself to break up a fight.
"You must not get what I mean—" Intelli straightened her posture more than it already was, and leaned towards you. "There's probably mistakes because it was you helping him." She mocked.
Hitoshi already had a hand reaching for your waist, ready to pull you back in a situation where you lunge at Intelli.
"You wanna talk about mistakes? How about we start with you, bit-" Before you could take a single step towards her, you were being pulled back by your waist.
"Watch your dog, Hitoshi." Intelli retorted.
Damn, was she lucky Hitoshi could hold you back.
"At least I bite, unlike some people." You shot back. She narrowed her eyes, leaning towards you again.
"Y'know Y/n, you're not as good as everyone thinks you are. Everyone thinks you're so great, and nice, but I know how you really are." She said.
"You only think that because everyone's not you. Its no goddamn wonder your blackmail folder is thicker than you." You hissed.
Intelli, clearly flustered that you even knew about her blackmail folder, stood straight again. She crossed her arms and cleared her throat slightly.
"You think youre so much better than me. A better person, a better best friend, you probably think you'd make a better girlfriend too, right?" She asked you.
"Of course I do, who the hell wouldn't?" You chuckled.
You felt Hitoshi's grip on your waist loosen. Either he was getting just as angry and was going to let you fight her, or he thought it the tension was thawing.
"Alright, since you're so much better than me, show me." Intelli insisted.
You smirked. "Alright, you asked for it."
Slipping out of Hitoshi's grip, you turned to face him.
His brows raised in surprise and confusion. And next thing he knew, you had him by the collar for the second time today.
But this time, your lips were pressed against his.
It took him a moment to process, but soon, he melted into it. Moving in sync with you, he placed his hands back on your waist.
As much as you wanted to continue, you still had to tell that bitch off.
Pulling away from Hitoshi, wiping away the string of saliva that connected your mouths, you turned back to Intelli.
You walked straight up to her, and placed a hand on your shoulder.
"Toshi doesn't react like that when you kiss him, does he?" You hummed, hearing Intelli audibly gulp.
"Like you said, I'm a better person, a better best friend, and a better girlfriend." You repeated her words from earlier.
"I wouldn't lie to him, expose him, whether what he did was true or false, and i wouldn't hold him back from doing what he wants." You taunted.
"And the thing is—" You leaned in, next to her ear.
"I dont think it, I know it."
"I'm perfect for him." You whispered to her.
Intelli nearly toppled over in defeat, leaning against the nearest wall to support her body.
"Anyways, see you tomorrow, Toshi." You mused, before walking away.
◇◇◇◇◇◇
The next day, you met up with Hitoshi in your free time like usual.
You were aimlessly walking around campus, talking about random topics, laughing as you watched random people do stupid things, and just having fun.
Except now, you were hand in hand, and the air around the two of you seemed lighter. And the look of adoration you and Hitoshi shared was more evident.
But in the middle of it, of course, something had to happen.
Intelli had stopped you both in your tracks, her brainless groupies behind her.
"Did you know everyone is talking about you, Hitoshi? And with all the things they're saying... you might not be able to recover from it." She said snarkily.
"Not too worried about it actually." Hitoshi admitted, a slightly bored tone to his voice.
"Tch, well you should be. So tell me, was she worth it, Hitoshi?" She inclined.
Hitoshi looked over at you, a grin spreading across his face.
"Hell yeah."
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amythedvdhoarder · 4 years
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Keeping it in the family
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Summary: You’re attending a party for your boss and you don’t want to be there. But when a mysterious man approaches you, things start looking a little more optimistic.
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, swearing, dickhead parents and smutty goodness. 18+ only
Word count: 2.7K
A/N: (Gif not mine) This is written for the lovely @stargazingfangirl18​ and @navybrat817 August writing challenge. I used the prompt “We are the only two people at this god awful event who seemed to be utterly miserable, so let’s be miserable together” My second ever Ransom fic! May have made Ransom a little but softer but still smutty as hell. You can blame my writing friend for encouraging this one, you know who you are! I hope you like it and welcome any feedback x
Not beta read so any mistakes are my own
Masterlist
xxx
You took a large sip from your vodka and coke and looked at the room full of people. This was the last place you wanted to be but your boss had insisted that you attend, and Linda Thrombey-Drysdale was not someone you wanted to annoy. So here you were, at a party celebrating her company making their first billion. This party was going to be hell, surrounded by rich snobs and the most stuck up members of society. Hopefully if you drank enough you could make it through to midnight when you could sneak off.
“How do you know Linda?” You turned to find the owner of the smooth voice. The man was leaning against the bar, resting on his elbows looking at you with a mildly amused look.
“I’m her personal assistant,” you replied.
“Oh, so you’re the one who writes my birthday cards and wraps my Christmas presents,” he stood up and ran his eyes up and down your body.
“Excuse me?” You had never met the man before let alone sent him a birthday card.
“I’m Ransom, Linda’s son,” he offered out his hand which you shook tentatively. His skin was warm and soft and he held onto your hand a little longer than necessary.
“Your mum writes your birthday cards not me,” you mumbled.
“You’re a bad liar, I know it’s you,” he smirked at you.
“And how do you know that?” embarrassment sweeping through you.
“First off, she would never sign the card ‘mum’. But the thing that really gives it away is the word ‘love’. Linda would never use words associated with emotion, not her style,” he shrugged.
Unable to find the words to respond you took another sip of your drink. Ransom didn’t look upset, more entertained.
“Well I am sure Linda will be happy you’re here tonight.” Ransom scoffed.
“You have met Linda, haven’t you?” you frowned at his snarky response.
“Of course, I only mean you’re her son. She’ll appreciate you being here even if she doesn’t show it,” you didn’t quite believe the words you had just spoken. Linda was a cold women who only really cared about one thing; money. The only time you had seen her smile was when she was talking about how much her fortune had grown by or when an article was written about her in Forbes.
From the way Ransom was looking at you, you knew he could read you like a book. The slight roll of his eyes told you that he knew you were bullshitting. It wasn’t something he was used to; people trying to spare his feelings. Most of the time people went out of their way to criticize and belittle him. Not that he cared. He was rich, wanted for nothing and could get any woman he desired with the click of his fingers. He was intrigued by you, you didn’t really fit in with this group of people. He could not fathom how someone so ‘normal’ could have ended up working for Linda. What surprised him though was the fact he cared.
Before Ransom had the chance to reply, Linda sauntered over to you. “Oh, you’re here,” she said with a sneer at Ransom. She signalled to the bartender for another drink. “I’m surprised you found the time in your hectic schedule.” Ransom shifted to stand by your side, his hand brushing over the small of your back as he placed it on the counter to the next to you.
“Wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity to embarrass the family,” the words that rolled off his tongue seemed to have the desired effect. You had the feeling that if this wasn’t her event, Linda would have exploded. Her jaw ticked in annoyance and her eyes flashed dangerously before turning to you.
“I need you at the office early tomorrow Y/N,” she snapped and walked away.
“Great, tomorrow was my day off” you muttered, slamming your glass down on the bar harder than you intended. Getting drunk was now out of the question.
An unfamiliar feeling washed over Ransom. Guilt. Normally antagonising his family didn’t have consequences for anyone other than himself. Not this time though. An innocent by stander had been caught up in the family drama. He had been intending to leave as soon as he had caused a satisfactory amount of disruption but now found himself think of ways to make it up to you.
“Let me buy you a drink,” Ransom offered by way of an apology.
“I shouldn’t, I have to get up early now,” sighing as you pulled out your phone out of your bag to look at the time.
“Look if you leave too early she’ll be even more pissed. Stay, have one more drink then I’ll drive you home,” he watched you carefully as you contemplated his offer.
“Fine, but it’s just a lift home don’t get any other ideas,” Ransom chuckled at you, his hand clutching his chest briefly.
“Sure thing.”
xxx
For the next hour you and Ransom sat in the corner, away from the rest of the party. Surprisingly he was easy to talk to. He had asked you about what it was like working for Linda and what your plans for the future were. You asked him about what he wanted from life, his interests and hobbies. For the first time in his life he wished he had something interesting or impressive to tell you but to be honest he hadn’t done much with his 32 years, except frittering away his inheritance.
Ransom found himself trying to make you laugh and smile. He couldn’t get enough of the soft giggles that escaped you or the way your lips curled and your eyes glinted when you smiled. To be honest this evening, which he had been dreading, had turned out to be rather enjoyable, so much so that he didn’t want it to end. And judging by the way you had visibly relaxed, you might have been feeling the same way.
“Shall I drive you home?” Ransom stood and picked up his coat before turning back to you.
“Um yes, thanks Ransom,” you sighed reluctantly. You had been enjoying the conversation with the notorious playboy. He had defied your expectations and had actually been quite pleasant company. You had even found yourself flirting with him. It was impossible to deny that he wasn’t attractive. As you walked behind him you inadvertently found yourself staring at him. His slacks clung to his narrow hips and outlined his strong thighs. You could tell by the snug fitting sweater that he had a broad, muscular chest. It might have been the slight buzz from the alcohol, but all you could think about was slipping your hands underneath the knitted jumper and dragging your fingers across his back, over his abdomen and the solid planes of his chest. The thoughts alone made a small shiver run through you, one which Ransom saw.
“You cold? Do you want my coat?” he asked a hint of amusement in his voice, knowing it wasn’t the temperature that was making you shiver or subtly squeeze your thighs together.
You shook your head quickly, flustered by question. “No thank you,” you squeaked.
Ransom smirked at you but let the matter drop. He led you to his car and opened the passenger door, taking your hand to help you in. Skin burning where his hand had made contact. You smoothed your hand down your thigh trying to hide the sudden nervousness that had come over you. It was unlikely that after tonight you would ever see Ransom again, but he was your boss’s son. That could cause some problems.
Ransom glanced over at you as he started the car. “You don’t have to look so worried Y/N, I’ll drop you off and that’s it. If that’s what you want that is?” His tone suggesting that he was thinking exactly what you were thinking.
You licked your bottom lip and rolled it between your teeth slowly. “Maybe you could come in for a nightcap?”
“Sounds perfect sweetheart.”
xxx
The atmosphere in the car palpable. The only words spoken were the directions you gave Ransom to your house. You kept crossing and uncrossing your legs to try and relive some of the pressure building. Ransoms grip on the steering wheel was tightening as more time passed, his knuckles turning white and his legs widening to make himself more comfortable. Your breath hitched as you saw the bulge developing in his trousers.
“Sweetheart, if you keep staring at me like that and making those sounds, we’re not going to make it back to yours,” Ransom looked across at you, his blue eyes blown with lust.
Your hand slid up your thigh, and slipped under your dress and towards your core. Closing your eyes as your fingers danced over your clothed center. The panties you were wearing were already soaked with just the mere thought of Ransoms cock slowly dragging in and out of you whilst playing with your clit. You reached under the band of the lacy thong you had put on and hissed out a breath as your finger pressed against your swollen bundle of nerves. Beside you, you could hear Ransom groan and felt the car suddenly swerve and come to a stop.
“Look at me,” Ransom said quietly. You looked across at him through your lashes and paused your movements. The tent in his pants had grown drastically, the sight of which made your mouth fall open and lick your lips.
“I didn’t tell you to stop sweetheart.” Under the heat of his gaze your back arched and your eyes closed as you drew in a deep breath and swirled your fingers around your clit once again.
“Open your eyes, I want to watch as you fall apart,” your eyes locked onto his as your movements sped up. Ransom pulled down the zip of his pants and pulled out his hardened length, moaning as his thumb ran across his leaking tip. The coil in your stomach was tightening and as Ransoms hand began running up and down his length you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
“Come Y/N,” at his command you let go, his name and string of curse tumbled from your mouth, eyes closing as you worked yourself through your high. Your hand stilled, panting out breaths as you came down, your walls still fluttering slightly.
Ransom reached across and slid his hand up your dress, coming to rest over your own. He moved your fingers along your slit, collecting the juices before bringing your fingers to his mouth so he could taste you, humming as he licked off every last drop.
“Delicious sweetheart, can’t wait to taste you properly. But now, I need to be inside you,” he pushed his seat back and motioned for you to climb on his lap. You bunched your dress up around your waist and quickly moved across straddling his hips. Leaning forward you nipped his bottom lip between your teeth making him moan against your mouth. As his lips parted you took the opportunity to slip your tongue in, groaning as you tasted yourself.
Ransom pulled down your strapless dress to expose your breasts, the cool air that hit you causing goose bumps to break out across your skin. Breaking the kiss, he carefully pushed you back so that you were leaning against the steering wheel. He leant down and attached his mouth to one of your pebbled nipples, sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin before turning his attention to the other. Your fingers wound into his hair keeping him close as you began to rub your soaked core against his length.
As the pressure inside you began to build again you became impatient. “Ransom please,” you whined, the desperation evident in your voice. He pulled his head back and grinned at the marks he had left all over your chest.
“I got you sweetheart.” He reached down between and ripped away your ruined panties. In your desperation you didn’t even protest and the destruction of your favourite pair, opting instead to wiggle your hips in an attempt to encourage him to pick up the pace. He chuckled lightly and took his member in his hand, rubbing it along your slit and coating it in your arousal.  
“Watch Y/N,” he whispered as his lined himself up with your entrance. You leaned forward and watched as his length disappeared inside you at an agonisingly slow pace. The stretch as he pushed himself to the hilt was delicious, the slight pain quickly receding and your need for more taking over. You placed your hands on his shoulders and used your knees to lift yourself up slowly before sinking back down once again. Ransom hissed and threw his head back against his headrest.
“Shit, you’re so tight,” he groaned as you picked up the pace. Ransom took hold of your hips and helped you bounce up and down on his cock. A familiar coil was tightening once again, Ransom sensing you were getting closer to the edge began thrusting his hips up to meet you, his thumb lowering to circle your clit. You were a whimpering mess and Ransom could feel himself getting lost in you. The sight of your eyes fluttering closed and your mouth parting as you panted in heavy breaths, was something he wanted to see again and again.
As he felt your fingers dig into his shoulders he knew you were so close now, yours walls beginning to pulsate around him. “Open your eyes Y/N,” his voice laced with a want and desire that even he didn’t recognise. As your eyes found his, his thumb pressed against your clit and you orgasm hit you like a tidal wave. You cried out his name as your walls clamped around him. At that moment nothing else existed other than you and Ransom. He continued to drag his cock along your spasming walls, prolonging your pleasure as he sought out his own climax.  His movements becoming ragged as his continued to thrust in and out of your heat. Hips stuttering as he pushed into you one final time groaning out your name as he came, spilling inside you.
Exhausted, his head fell forward, resting on your bare shoulder. Both of you were panting from the exertion and a thin film of sweat covered your skin. Your hands found their way into his hair, fingertips massaging the back his neck. Ransom hummed contently before moving his head so that he could capture your lips with his. This wasn’t a sex crazed kiss but a passionate, all-consuming kiss, one that had your head spinning and doubting if you could really part ways with Ransom after this. Neither of you seemed to want to pull apart, for starters he was still inside you. But as you heard a car pass by you suddenly remembered your surroundings.
“Ransom,” you breathed against his lips.
“Mhmmm.”
“Do you think we should move?” you pulled back from him. His eyes looked a little disorientated, something you imagined would be mirrored in your own. He blinked a couple of times and began to look more alert.
“Oh yeah, probably,” he pulled up your dress to cover up your chest. Then you rocked back on your knees you he could slide out of you. Ransom noted the adorable pout on your face as he did so, it was almost as it you mourning the loss of his cock, which of course made it twitch as he tucked himself back into his trousers. As elegantly as you could with your lower half still exposed, you clambered back over to your seat and tugged your dress back down.
Ransom rolled down the window to let in some fresh air and dissipate some of that sex smell that had filled the car. He started up the engine and looked across at you. The smile he gave you nearly made you climb back on top of him.
“You still want that nightcap?” you said innocently.
Ransoms smile turned into a grin. “Sweetheart, screw the nightcap. Let’s make it breakfast.”
You giggled at the cheesy line but nodded. Somehow you got the feeling you were going to be late to work
Taglist is open so let me know if you want in or out
Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 ,  @silentcoyotesong, @queenofstarliqht​, @buckys-henley​, @lonelyheartsm​ @alexa-lightwood-blog​, @angrythingstarlight​, @drabblewithfrannybarnes​​, @rogueheretic555​ @rebekahdawkins​
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jaskiersvalley · 4 years
Note
You are the one who got me hooked on Eskel/Lambert and now I can't stop writing them together how did you do this to me, shipping by osmosis
Yes! Welcome to this small ship (a whole 46 stories on AO3). But our numbers are slowly growing. And I will also point you in the direction of @ohnomybreadsticks for some quality content, especially when slipping Cahir into the mix too (canon? What’s that?). To celebrate your joining of this ship, I have a really still idea to bestow upon you.
Arriving in a town with the promise of a contract, only to find another witcher had already been by was always annoying. Even worse when the locals had chased said witcher from their midst without payment and rushed into hurriedly packing his things. At least the locals let Geralt and Jaskier pay for a room as long as they moved on from the village the next day. They even gave them the same room that had been sullied by the previous witcher. For some reason, Geralt had stiffened upon entering the room, as if met by a familiar scent but he refused to elaborate so Jaskier shrugged. If it was important, he would find out. The next moment, his attention was taken up by a leaf of parchment poking out from under the bed. Curiosity piqued, he grabbed it in a rush even though he knew Geralt wouldn’t have gone near it anyway.
“-makes things bearable. I do hope he’s okay. While I keep an ear out for whispers of him and know I cannot walk my Path and his at the same time, I worry. Winter cannot come soon enough. Even if I can’t hold him like I’d want to, I can at least make sure he can take it easy and actually enjoy being alive for a change. I’d do so much more-”
It was too intimate, probably an entry from a journal that was falling apart. Jaskier’s hear squeezed at the idea of a witcher who was so obviously in love with someone that sounded like another witcher. Maybe he needed a bit of help in romancing the love of his life. Jaskier knew what it was like, to love a witcher and not be loved in return. Maybe he could help spare someone this miserable fate.
Finding a charmed bird was quite difficult and cost a good chunk of coin but Jaskier deemed it a worthy sacrifice. The pigeon would track the intended recipient of a letter and could be used as a way to communicate over long distances.
Dear Witcher,
I am but a humble bard who happened upon a page of your journal. Your plight sings to my heart as we both seem to love someone who walks the Path and we can but quiver in our boots and hope they return to our side after each separation. While return they do, our beloveds don’t seem to realise that we would bestow upon them more than our care as friends. May I offer you solace and friendship through these letters, as one fool in love with a witcher to another.
Jaskier tied that, along with the page he had found, along with a feather from one of his hats to the pigeon. It went its way and Jaskier could only hope his offer was taken for what it was, a genuine, heartfelt companion for the broken hearted.
It took two weeks for the pigeon to return, a fresh piece of parchment tied to its leg.
Bard,
This is a most unexpected letter, I didn’t even realise I lost a page from my journal. It’s almost full now and seen more than its fair share of battles. Thank you for returning it. As for the matter of its content, I would love to say it’s none of your business and never speak of it again. Yet, despite my best caution, I am intrigued to find another who claims to love a witcher. If you’re struggling for his affections, may I suggest you feed him? While my wolf is fiercely independent, he does always look so touched and bashful when presented with little delicacies he wouldn’t have treated himself to otherwise.
Best of luck on your quest to win a fortified heart, Witcher
It was a most exciting development, not once did the mysterious witcher tell Jaskier to stop contacting him, or even dishearten him. Instead, Jaskier had been given a hint on how to woo Geralt. New tactic in mind, Jaskier set about buying sweet cakes and pastries whenever he could and presenting them to Geralt. At first, it was met with offended bafflement but, slowly, over time, Jaskier could see the hopeful glances. Even better was when, out of the blue, Jaskier was presented with a blueberry tart - his absolute favourite.
Dear Witcher,
Thank you for your help. My own wolf has mellowed and seems appreciative, if confused, by the sudden treats. He even returned the gesture. Something I’ve found he likes is his hair being played with. Mustn’t call it brushing or styling! But a quiet night by a fire, fingers carding through his hair definitely help him relax. It’s such a beautiful sight, so much power and raw strength tamed by nothing more than gentle touch. Maybe, when you next see your wolf, he might enjoy an evening with his head in your lap too.
Tell me more about your wolf though, what’s he like? I know I suffer when I cannot sing about the heroic deeds and virtues of my wolf. As a bard, thankfully i have an outlet so my heart doesn’t burst with love. But I wonder who you have that will listen to your adorations.
May your Path lead you to your wolf’s heart. Bard
Letters went back and forth between this witcher and Jaskier. Any questions about the witcher himself were ignored or not quite answered and Jaskier could appreciate that. He did learn a lot though, this witcher was kind, he was much like Geralt in that he wouldn’t take payment if there was true suffering without the means to fund the services of a witcher. There were also a few self-deprecating comments which led Jaskier to believe that the man he was exchanging letters with was shy, probably quite a gentle soul that was hardened by decades of life as a witcher.
There was one time Jaskier fretted over his pen pal. A letter had arrived, it had splatters of blood and was written with by a shaking hand. Short and to the point, so much so that Jaskier could have wept.
Bard - treasure your wolf and hold him close at night. They’re getting colder and longer. When he’s hurt, sing him a lullaby of old and even when it looks hopeless, you can be his guiding light. Remind him he’s never alone while he’s got you. Don’t let him waste your beset years together just because he’s a fool who cannot see all you have to offer.
That night, Jaskier pulled his bedroll closer and was surprised when Geralt easily allowed him to press close. Jaskier held his wolf not just for himself but for the mystery witcher who was likely injured and alone somewhere out there in the big wide world.
The exchange of letters continued. Jaskier learned about the witcher’s wolf, that he was dedicated to the Path even though he cursed it and the life he had before that too. It really sounded like whoever this sad wolf was, he had led a life of anger and disappointment. No wonder he couldn’t let in this other witcher and accept the love shown, he probably had no frame of reference for what love looked like or how to deal with it.
My dearest Witcher,
Winter draws closer and I have been invited to accompany my wolf to his home. There, I will get to meet his family which is rather nerve-wracking. I’ve heard a few stories of his brothers and while I hope they will find me to their liking, I still worry. Maybe I will use your suggestions in moderation and bring them treats as well as be a quiet but steady presence, should they need a confidant.
I do hope your winter goes well and you are able to hold your wolf in your strong arms at long last. Be honest with him. If he is as cautious with his heart as you say, and as kind under all his snark and bluster, I should hope that he will either accept all the love you have to offer with a bit of huffing. Or he will be gentle but clear in his boundaries of what his heart can and cannot offer.
Keep in touch over this winter, I have grown fond of you and your thoughtful words. Bard
Trekking up to Kaer Morhen, Jaskier didn’t think he’d get a pigeon until stashed away in the keep. Winter was cold and harsh, it made him worry for his pigeon. Or rather, their pigeon because Jaskier had noted at the bird always came back so cared for, once or twice it even had the remnants of a flower collar around its throat. Sometimes it had been given a nice bath, the soft perfume still gently wafting from its wings.
Jaskier had no idea what to expect of Kaer Morhen. It was large, ominous and cold. Drafts whipped through it and made fires flicker. Introductions were made, Jaskier nodded at Vesemir, Eskel and Lambert. He didn’t miss the way Geralt looked between the two younger witchers. Obviously there was something going on there that was unusual but Jaskier didn’t know them well enough to probe.
Bard,
I’m safely back at the my winter home, surrounded by family and more. I say more because one of my brothers has brought a bard back with him. They reek of each other and it’s almost disgusting how in love they seem. The bard himself is so young. A bright ray of sunshine in this dreary old place. I don’t think these halls had ever echoed with song before. It’s annoying on some level but at the same time, his cheer and seemingly open adoration of all things witcher is disarming. Somehow, I get the feeling you would like him. If I can find out more about him, I might try and send him your way. Makes me wonder what it is about bards and witchers but now there are two pairs at least on this continent. Maybe I should shuck my swords and take up a lute if I want to keep my own wolf happy.
Stay safe and warm, hold your wolf close on these cold nights. Witcher P.S. I took your advice and laid my heart bare. I no longer sleep in my room and have never been happier.
Upon reading the letter, Jaskier squealed in delight. His witcher friend had a wolf to hold and love. Even if their Paths took opposing directions, they now both had someone for return to, to fight for.
My dearest Witcher,
Your letter was the best news. I am so pleased you and your wolf have found solace in each other. Long may your love last and may you keep each other safe. And please, do let me know of this other bard. I would love to meet him. As long as it isn’t that talentless hack, Vadlo Marx, imitating me once more. If it is, please do the world and your witcher brother a favour and snap his neck. Everyone will thank you for it in the long term, trust me.
I’ve only managed to fall in love with my wolf’s family. They’re a quiet, reserved bunch but absolutely endearing. And let me tell you about the love between two of them. I don’t think I’ve seen a love more true or pure. There’s so much I want to ask them about how they found peace with each other, how they manage out in the world without each other when on the Path. If I glean anything useful, I will be sure to pass it onto you and it might help ease your burdens when a new season rolls around.
Have a happy winter, Bard
Carefully, Jaskier fixed the letter to the pigeon and opened the window. However, the cold must have frightened it because it took off towards the door, flying through the keep with Jaskier running after it, yelling. They ended up in the kitchen where Eskel was lounging against the counter while Lambert kneaded some bread.
“Oh hello,” Eskel cooed at the pigeon and held a hand out for it to land. Grinning, he plucked the letter off with practised ease. “You came back a lot quicker than expected. Less than a day.”
Which was when Jaskier burst into the kitchen, huffing and puffing, glaring at the pigeon. He scooped the bird up from Eskel’s palm with a stern glare. “You are a little brat. Now look what you’ve done, lost my letter too. What are we going to do with you?”
Only listening with half an ear as Eskel read his letter, he paused and looked up at Jaskier in surprise.
“Bard?”
Realisation made Jaskier drop the pigeon. “Witcher? Which can only mean-” he turned to look at Lambert, “-wolf?”
“Which makes Geralt...” Eskel trailed off and let out a gruff huff as Jaskier launched himself at him in a hug.
“I am so happy for you!” Jaskier laughed brightly and Eskel could only return the hug, a smile of his own slowly blossoming across his face.
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penguintransporter · 3 years
Text
Winning The Game Called Love (Hector Bellerin) PART IX
Hello! Chapter IX I believe. Who would have said I’d go this far, hahah! Have no time to ramble, it’s way past my bedtime. So, read, enjoy, and tell me what you think about it - my ask box is always open! 
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Staring at herself in the mirror, Aida let the water run over her hands — never breaking the eye-contact with her reflection. 
Standing there with her fingers numbing ever so slightly under the cold stream, Aida knew that she was about to start overthinking again. Her heart and her mind were still having a heated battle in which she could only observe, but not do anything to stop it. And, although, she didn’t want to admit it to herself, she was slowly beginning to feel a certain type of fear, and what bothered her the most wasn’t the emotion itself but rather lack of justification she had for feeling it in the first place.
She had no reason to be scared. 
It wasn’t as if she was forced into doing something she didn’t want to do. 
Fancying Héctor was easy — kissing him and letting herself go whenever he merely touched her, to her astonishment, even easier, and not even once did she question her feelings towards him. Aida wasn’t clueless – she knew that he was making her weak — both mentally and physically, and deep down, she firmly believed that everything that was happening between the two of them felt right, but still, she couldn’t help herself.
Moving closer to the mirror, she closed the tap with ease before placing both of her hands against her warm cheeks. The coolness of her palms sent the shivers down her spine, and this time, they weren’t caused by a certain someone who was on the other side of the doors, probably wondering why she had been absent for more than five minutes, locked inside his guest bathroom at the end of the corridor instead of spending time with him. 
If she was to be honest, she couldn’t say either why she decided to pretend that she needed to use the loo for no real reason, as if sitting on a toilet seat and flushing the empty bowl while she pondered her future with Héctor would help her in any way. If anything, it only made her overthink more.
“How did I end up here?” Aida whispered to herself as she took a step back, smoothing down her clothes before wincing at the amount of the lint swirls along the edge of her jumper. A thought that she probably needed to do some shopping entered her mind quickly, but she dismissed it — she had no desire or spare money to do so. 
Softly, she closed the doors behind her as she exited the bathroom before making her way back into the sitting room, only to find it empty, but now the blinds that covered the windows were pulled all the way up, letting the last bits of sun inside — its shadows scattered on the parquet floor. Excited and with a wide smile, Aida walked along the dining table — finger running against the shiny surface before stepping in front of the windows, finally getting the chance to see for herself what Héctor was talking about. 
He was right.
The view in front of her was beautiful, even in the miserable and barely sunny February late afternoon, and as she let her eyes wander, taking in all the tiniest details, Aida couldn’t help but feel the urge to go outside, knowing very well that the ground was probably cold, muddy and soaked with all the rain that showered the city in the past few weeks. Even if she knew that it would make her look crazy, she still wanted to step out and tiptoe over the raised porch, touch the wet leaves of the green shrubbery with her fingertips and feel the last rays of sunlight on her skin as they fought their way through the naked branches of the tall trees that shielded Héctor’s garden from curious eyes. 
As she stood there quietly, Aida could barely hear Héctor in the kitchen — the sound of drawers and cupboards opening and closing the only giveaway that he was present in his house with her. Apprehensively, she glanced over her shoulder for a second before looking in front of her again, covering her eyes as she observed the orange glow of the late afternoon through her spread fingers, focusing on the tiny dust particles that danced in front of her eyes. 
“One, two, three…,” she whispered, barely audible, enjoying the wave of calmness that settled over her breaths almost instantly, “one,two—,”
“—What are you up to?”
Aida quickly turned around, dropping her arms to her sides as she felt the blush creep up to her cheeks, embarrassment at her own behaviour filling her up on the inside. In front of her, Héctor stood with an amused look on his face as he held two mugs in his hands — his small smile stretching into a toothy grin she liked so much, easing her discomfort in an instant.
He lifted the mugs ever so slightly in her direction, and she didn’t even have to ask what it was  — the strong aroma of cocoa had already started to tickle her nostrils. 
“Just enjoying the view,” Aida responded after a few moments of silence where they just quietly looked at each other; observing and trying to read each other’s face expressions.
Héctor set the both mugs on the coffee table, pushing away some magazines to create some space before lifting his gaze and meeting her eye - a smirk appearing on his face. Straightening his back, he pointed his index finger at the windows and then back at his chest, raising his eyebrows in question, and Aida couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him. 
He was so silly.
“What? I have to ask,” Héctor innocently shrugged before running both of his hands through his hair, twisting it in a bun with ease with a thin hair-tie that rested on his wrist, and just for a moment, Aida froze, mesmerized by the simple act.
Trying to compose herself and her thoughts, Aida shook her head a little, looking at him. 
“You know, sometimes I wonder,” she pondered, taking a step closer and ignoring the butterflies in her stomach that whimpered at the up-close sight of him, “there has to be a switch somewhere...” she paused to give him a silly grin, “to turn off your ridiculousness, right?”
As soon as she said it, Héctor let out a genuine laugh — the sound of his voice surprising her and making her stop for a second. Aida took a step back - her heart fluttering at the sight in front of her. 
She couldn’t say what it was, but there was something about the view in front of her that made her heart take a leap. There was something about seeing him laugh at her joke like he did - lost in the tiny moment, in his own safe space, surrounded with the things that made him as a person, with the things that were part of his life, and where he was most comfortable — no shoes, relaxed, and dressed plainest Aida had seen him. 
The way his eyes squinted in laughter, and the way his shoulders dropped just for a slightest, Héctor looked like as if all the bad games he had played were tucked and locked away, all the goals that he had missed were forgotten, and he was hidden away from all the spotlight and mean comments. He was being just himself; not another ‘baller’ or Arsenal’s number two.
He was just Héctor. 
“The green mug is yours,” he spoke softly, making her blink her thoughts away, and she quickly followed his eyes where he was looking at the mug that was filled all the way up with the hot cocoa, wondering about how long she was out, whisked away in her own bubble. She couldn’t help but smile to herself, noticing that it was the same mug that she held that night when they first talked in his kitchen, and as silly as she was, she wondered if he used the same one on purpose today.  
Looking back at him, Aida smirked a little, feeling like she needed to make a joke to lift the veil of quietness away. “Why? Is it poisoned?”. 
Héctor only grinned at her in response, moving closer — his fingers touching hers, almost as if he was trying to tease her with his touch before he finally took a hold of her hand, pulling her closer. With a happy sigh, Aida closed her eyes for a second, thankful that he decided to take the lead this time.
She couldn’t lie to herself, she was craving his attention; craving his closeness, and as they stood there in silence, their bodies barely touching, she could feel his warmth embracing her, but despite it all, she was still shivering lightly. 
You can always hug him, you know?
“What’s up?” he asked after some time, giving her a knowing look, and without even trying to answer, Aida knew that he was, yet again, trying to pry his way into her mind — something that he seemed to be very good at, and this time, instead of being annoyed with him for doing it, she welcomed it. 
The atmosphere around them was shifting slowly, and Aida couldn’t dismiss the feeling that reached the boiling point in the very pit of her stomach. She knew, that if their life was just a movie, and the two of them main characters, the scene that they were in would end up in one of the two ways. They would either start a fight that would turn them into sworn enemies, or they would kiss feverishly until they ended in between the bedsheets, doing things that she didn’t dare to think of in the state that her mind was in.
He was still looking at her intently, and Aida, embarrassed at her own thoughts, lowered her gaze, focusing on the necklace around his neck as it rested on top of his white t-shirt — sunlight from the outside reflecting on the shiny, golden cross. 
“It’s silly—it’s nothing,” she answered quickly, shaking her head.
“Now, is it silly, or is it nothing?” Héctor questioned with a smirk, letting his hand drop from hers, and the sudden lack of contact made Aida look up at him again. There was still a smile on his face, but Aida could hear the slight worry in his voice as well. “Y’know, unicorn, I can tell that there’s a storm inside that pretty head of yours,” he added softly. 
Aida couldn’t help but smile gently before taking the few steps around him, needing to sit down in order to gather her thoughts. Once she felt the soft cushion of the sofa underneath her, she reached out for the mug that was on the table in front of her before blowing lightly on the steam and inhaling deeply. 
It was warm, comforting, and it made her relax just a tiny bit. 
“I just…” she started but stopped for a moment, watching him grab a matching footstool from the side of the room before placing it down in front of her and sitting down. Aida had difficult time to come to terms on how handsome he was looking as he interlaced his fingers under his chin, looking at her patiently – eyebrows knitted in understanding. “I am probably overthinking, anyway,” Aida added, giving him a half-smile, but judging by the look in his eyes, he wasn’t buying her poor attempt at joking.
Trying to gain few more seconds before speaking again, she took another sip of her hot drink.
“I said it earlier, but I don’t mind saying it again” Héctor suddenly started — his voice lower for an octave, “it’s always good if we talk about it, innit?” Aida didn't know what to say, so she only nodded once  in response. “So, if you’re unsure of something, or if you don’t want this, you need to tell me, Aida.” 
The way he said her name, and the way it rolled off of his tongue made her stomach flip in excitement. It was breathy, tender, but with a hint of apprehensiveness and perhaps a little disappointment added to it - Aida couldn’t tell for sure.
“I do want it,” she reassured, blushing, trying to keep her voice calm as possible as she met his eyes. “If there’s one thing I’m bad at, it’s hiding the way I feel about you, and you know it.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, the cocky smirk and the devilish look in his eyes reappeared, and even if she didn’t want to admit it, she enjoyed seeing it very much.
“Oh, do I, now?” he asked, leaning back slightly, shaking his head before motioning for her to continue as he mouthed a small ‘sorry’. 
Aida nodded yet again, setting the mug back on the table before pulling one of her legs up to her chest, tucking her knee underneath her chin. “You know, it’s really difficult to focus on what I want to say when you’re looking at me like that.”
“What do you mean? Looking at you like what, unicorn?” he asked knowingly, not bothering to change his face expression as he picked up his own mug, wrapping his fingers around it before taking a sip - the corner of his lips moving upwards. 
“You know,” Aida moved her hand around, motioning at his face as she tried to hide her smirk, “like that.”
“I can put a compost bag over my head? Would that help?” he asked, still grinning at her.
“Jesus, you’re seriously impossible.”
He chuckled, taking another sip before setting the mug back, and moving forward so that he could stop her from scratching at her jeans-clad leg — something she wasn’t aware of doing.
“Seriously now, what’s up?” he asked as he squeezed her hand gently, and Aida breathed out quickly, nodding.
“The thing is, and I’ll be straightforward—,” she began, running her free hand over her face, “ —this…us, it’s scaring me so much that I could piss my pants,” she stopped for a second, giving him a chance to make a bad joke or a stupid comment on what she just said, but he kept quiet, waiting patiently for her to continue. “I probably should, but I just cannot ignore the fact that just few weeks ago, you didn't even know who I was and if my name was Aida—,”
“And how do you know I wasn’t just pretending?” he gave her a small wink, and she only raised her eyebrows at him in question, but he refused to elaborate. "You need to know that having a girl working at the club is not something that lads keep quiet about."
“Really?" Aida raised her eyebrows and him curiously. "But, you barely acknowledged my existence while I worked at the Training Grounds.”
“Come on, unicorn, you have to admit that your questions about the weather were highly repetitive,” Héctor smirked, folding his tattooed arms across his chest. “It’s either rainy, windy or bloody freezing in London."
“It’s called being polite,” Aida retorted.  
“And, we are officially having our first argument,” Héctor smirked cockily, making her snort quietly.
“Wanna put the note in your calendar?" she asked, before letting out a sigh, "But, honestly now, the truth is that we barely know each other, and — wait, why are you rolling your eyes at me?” Aida huffed a little in annoyance, planting both of her feet on a thin rug as she leaned forward a bit. 
“‘Cause you’re being silly.”
“I am being serious, Héctor,” she answered, refusing to look at him.
There was something about the way he knew which buttons he needed to push to make her both infuriated and attracted to him.
“And I like how you pronounce my name when you’re pissed off with me. You roll your ‘rrr’s’ beautifully.”
Aida looked back at him, trying to keep her smile locked away even though she knew that she was failing at doing so. “Seriously, Héctor,” she began again, putting the emphasis on his name, making him chuckle. “What if you change your mind once, you know we become...uh, once we start—,” Aida cut herself off before she could finish the rest of her thoughts.
Was she even allowed to say it out loud?
Was there a word that she was allowed to use when it came to what they were?
Date, see each other, court, go steady with, be romantically involved, step out with…? Plenty of expressions in the Oxford Dictionary, Aida.
“You can say it, y’know?” Héctor teased, moving closer to the edge of his seat — his knees touching hers. 
“Stop it,” she muttered quietly, looking at her lap.
Héctor smiled as he lifted her chin with his index finger. “One. Are you Spurs fan? Maybe that would explain the fact that you don’t have the annual ticket for my matches,” he muttered the last bit as Aida shook her head - confusion etching itself on her face. “Second, will it piss you off if it takes me more than half an hour to get dressed?” Yet again, she shook her head, not sure where the conversation was going. “Third. Do you fart in your sleep? Not that I mind, I am a heavy sleeper anyway—,” 
Aida held up her hand, stopping him, “—What’s that got to do with anything? And I don’t, or at least—… I don’t know if I do. I cannot hear myself when I am asleep… Wait, why are we having this conversation?”
“Because, although, I understand your point,” Héctor answered with a simple shrug of his shoulders, “you really have no reason to be scared that I’ll change my mind, unicorn. After all, I put too much effort and time in that bloody excel sheet, so give me some credit…,” he trailed off as he got up from the footstool. “But, we can always go on a proper date if you want. Dress up, eat somewhere posh...”
“You don’t strike me as candlelight-and-violins-in-the-background kinda lad,” Aida smirked, moving a little as he sat next to her. 
Reflexively, she shifted in her seat so that she was facing him, relaxing as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. His finger trailed down, over the side of her neck, stopping just where her collar-bone was starting before going back up and settling below her jawline. Aida shuddered lightly and he grinned, obviously aware of the effect he had on her. 
“Actually, I am more of a street-food and John Legend kinda lad, but I am always willing to make an exception, if that’s what you’d fancy,” he responded — finger gently across her cheek. 
“Nah, posh is not my style,” Aida grinned, snuggling closer into him.
“And what about a takeaway, some Netflix and then after the dessert, I show you my garden?” Héctor asked, making Aida look up at him with a smirk, blushing at the thought.
“You're never letting that one go, am I right?"
Héctor grinned, but didn't say anything, and he didn’t need to, because she knew the answer already.
————
Cheesy as fuck, I know! But thanks for sticking around. Tell me what you think!
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thecandywrites · 3 years
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Blood For Gold Chapter 15
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Oooh, Audra's deepest darkest secret becomes known and puts her that much closer to danger of entrapment while the Voyambi's have to admit the ugly truth of their current view of their own heritage vs their station in English society.
@punkhorse96 GURL. Buckle up Buttercup because we are almost getting to the peak of this roller coaster. Because the Komoba battle will be the peak, the court case- the fall and then it's the throws and twists and lurches to follow.
Also Stregabor from the Witcher? Who else could play the most devious of mages? Who else I ask you? Who?
Blood For Gold
Chapter 15
“Oh there you are Axal, I need you for just a moment.” Yalin insisted as she saw him leave his rooms, having waited outside of them for the last half hour for him to emerge since she had gotten up extra early to catch Axal at the earliest moment possible.
“Is everything alright?” He asked as she grabbed ahold of his hand and drug him down the hallway.
“Yes, yes, of course, it’s fine, I just need a private word with you.” She did her best to reassure him but Axal could sense her panic before she pulled him into a spare room and dismissed the servants in the hall so their ears could not eavesdrop.
“Do you have any affection for Ramsey? I need you to be completely honest and transparent.” Yalin pressed.
“I do.” Axal slowly nodded as he frowned deeply in confusion at her, not knowing where she was going to go with such a line of questioning.
“Then I need your help to find him a wife as soon as possible.” Yalin insisted.
“Uh, I don’t..quite..” Axal frowned deeper.
“Axal, I will be perfectly frank and honest with you, Gregori has long had his eye on your sister Audra for Ramsey ever since Ramsey said that she was the only one for him at her wedding to Count Edward Morrigan of all places.” Yalin began. “And it is clear that Audra has no interest in him and I have already given Audra my word to protect her from a marriage of convenience but little love and I fully intend to keep my word, but before Gregori has a chance to pressure her into a match she will find no joy or happiness in, I need to find another for Ramsey. Do you know of anyone, anywhere, in any court who could both be a lady of good wealth, breeding and most of all availability?” Yalin pressed him as Axal simply blinked in surprise at her as realization seemed to dawn on him.
“I must be clear, I have no issue with you having affection or attachment or romantic entanglements with Ramsey. And Audra seems happy for your happiness. And I know she must love you. And I know she would rather much leave Ramsey’s heart to your care than her own. But Gregori has his mind made up and I need someone who will satisfy Gregori’s need for an heir from Ramsey, so that leaves your sister free to pursue a union with another who can give her the love and care she deserves without the expectation of an heir because such endeavors would endanger her life, but...you see what bind we are in.” Yalin expressed.
“Yes, I’m aware. That’s why I have already reached out to Lady Octavia Lafronze, she’s only 27, she can still bear a child or a few even, she has a companion who can pose as my own wife if we need to keep a ruse going for the public. She will be here only the day before the Komoba battle. She’s on her way already. Audra knows of my attachment to Ramsey and until Octavia can get here, she has agreed to “play along” until then and even Ramsey has agreed to switch his “interest” when she does arrive. And Lady Octavia will fill our need. We just need to be patient.” Axal revealed.
“Oh thank the heavens.” Yalin breathed in relief as she leaned against a nearby table and clutched her middle.
“Ok, so here is the other thing. Audra’s case against the Morrigans, I don’t know if it would be best to go forward. I fear it may be more troublesome than it’s worth and whatever justice that Audra has already gotten, I fear that is all she may ever receive.” Yalin hinted.
“Audra prizes her peace. She may not want to revisit the past and rehash and open up old wounds. I will feel her out on this.” Axal reassured her.
“Thank you.” Yalin nodded as she blew out another breath of relief before Yalin gave him a reassuring squeeze to his hand before she hastily made it out of the room and quickly went down to breakfast before an attendant came and handed Axal a note, instructions to him written by his grandmother as Axal nodded and quickly asked for directions to where he had just been instructed to meet with the rest of his family before he went back into his room to get redressed in the approrpriate attire.
By the time Yalin got down to breakfast, hardly anyone was there.
“Where is everyone?” Yalin asked as it seemed that only the Voyambi’s and the Raymonds were at breakfast before Jane came into breakfast and sat down next to Charlotte.
“Jane dear, do you know where Audra and her family are this morning?” Yalin inquired.
“Yes, Audra’s grandmother got her up quite early this morning and they asked for breakfast to be brought to the gardens, they are all preparing for the kamoba battle. Apparently they all plan on participating.” Jane answered.
“Ah, that...that does explain it.” Yalin realized as she sat down as she noticed all the Voyambi youngsters seem to eagerly inhale their food before excusing themselves from the table, Ramsey and Charlotte included, leaving just Jane with the Duke and Duchess Voyambi and Gregori and Yalin.
“Do you not wish to see the training yourself?” Duchess Voyambi asked her curiously once Jane was invited to sit closer to them towards the head of the table.
“No, for the last two years I have watched Audra continue her training in private, although my parents forbade her from actually wielding any weapons, she was able to practice with sticks in the gardens and practice the drills in her room after waking up and before going to bed. Mouras take physical fitness to an extreme, even the women are trained like soldiers.” Jane explained.
“Like the orcish shield maidens of old.” Duchess Voyambi noted to her husband with a grin which he soon mirrored.
"And warchieftesses too." Duke Voyambi grinned.
“It is quite the spectacle. I remember watching my Dearest train for hours before the battle, even the exercises are quite intense.” Gregori noted with a sweet adoring smile to his wife that she did her best to return but Gregori could see something in her eyes and that her smile did not reach them as he gave her a curious look before she quickly looked away and blushed just a little under his scrutiny.
“Well it’s been ages since I even tried the exercises, I think it would do me good just to try to see how much I still remember.” Yalin said as she excused herself from the table after eating only a few bites, to get redressed into the more appropriate attire as Gregori got up and followed his wife before Jane excused herself from the table as well, leaving the Duke and Duchess Voyambi to sit in bewilderment.
“What is troubling you Dearest?” Gregori asked as he helped loosen the ties of her corset and untie her dress from her body.
“You are.” Yalin confessed.
“How do I trouble you?” Gregori asked before Yalin turned around and faced him.
“Audra drank a gallon of mourkatili. A gallon of it Gregori. With such a dosage, it is a miracle she is even alive. She is tainted and poisoned beyond repair. She can not bear Ramsey heirs and Ramsey needs a legitimate heir and woman of good breeding and nobility to give it to him. Likewise, Audra deserves a mate who can be loyal and faithful to her and I know her well enough that she will not put up with disloyalty in her marriage mate. She deserves faithfulness and devotion in all things. She has suffered more than enough as it is and before the ball at Havenfield, she came to me at the Gold Finch and asked me to guide her to a match who would treat her with kindness, respect, reverence, loyalty, devotion and faithfulness.” Yalin insisted.
“Do you think Ramsey incapable of giving such things to her?” Gregori posed.
“Yes, because he is already giving those things to her brother, which Audra is actually happy about. It would make her miserable to know that Ramsey would have to choose between Axal and herself and she would much rather have Axal be with Ramsey privately. But publicly, she can not be expected to act the perfect wife in public but in secret to know that she would share her husband with her brother of all people. And separating Axal from Ramsey would hurt all three of them. You and Ramsey both need to give up on the idea of Audra being Ramsey’s future wife and we need to consider other possibilities and I gave Audra my word that I would guard her against a marriage such as that and I have every intention of keeping my word. She is not the same woman who her master makes her out to be. She has suffered and changed too much at the hands of the Morrigans and she can not produce heirs. She is of no use to us, she is a dear girl but she is a lost cause.” Yalin maintained, choosing her words carefully.
“Oh I disagree, I think this palace is the perfect place for her and she’s plenty useful still, I think she’s finding her stride here and just because she can’t have heirs, doesn’t mean she can’t mother Ramsey’s illegitimate heirs to adopt them and make them legitimate and Axal is free to stay and keep Ramsey company as long as Audra plays her part publicly. She can have whatever affairs she wishes to have, because such seed taking root is obviously null and void.” Gregori readily shook his head no in friendly disagreement.
“How?! How in the world, is she still of use to us?” Yalin demanded.
“Dear, did you not get enough sleep last night? You aren’t thinking this through or not seeing this clearly then. We can use her treatment from the Morrigan’s hand to win over all of their fortune to her in court. You read the letter from the Mage, we have more than enough proof to string them up in the town square. She’s still an heiress of a great fortune and breeding.” Gregori insisted.
“But what of Jane? Of young Count Edward the third Morrigan? Jane is only a teenager and the young count is still a child. What would become of them?” Yalin asked.
“Audra has a good heart, she has affection for Jane, she will make sure Jane is taken care of and of course Jane, by Audra’s insistence is innocent. Besides Audra’s brother seems to like her enough. I’m sure he could always play the hero and take her and her little brat of a brother with him back to Dorierra to live happily ever after and save her from her monstrous parents and the Morrigans can be made an example of. Think of all the gossip papers you will sell telling everyone all about it.” Gregori incited.
“But what if Audra does not want that? Doesn’t want to be in our family? We can not force her to marry Ramsey just because you want her wealth and the court may not do as you say, we can’t afford to buy off every judge and juror to win it in Audra’s favor and the Morrigans have enough wealth to appeal it to the highest of courts where such measures are forbidden.” Yalin pressed anxiously.
“Oh once she sees all the benefits of being in the second most powerful family in England, no woman can resist. A life of lavish luxury with only having to smile and wave and play the tiniest of parts to enjoy it. The komoba battle will reawaken every moura instinct she has, she will see reason and see that our family is the only family she needs or should want to be a part of.” Gregori insisted as he kissed his wife’s knuckles sweetly before he called for her attendants to help her get dressed as she stood there in only her shift, her clothes long since fallen off to the floor.
“I’ll see you down in the gardens Dearest. Don’t worry about a thing, I have it all under control.” Gregori reassured his wife sweetly as Yalin just stared in thinly veiled horror at his back. She knew her husband well, he was not going to be easily swayed and she feared of what other measures he had already taken in the endeavour.
Gregori left and immediately went down to see you in particular as Demsey and his own brothers had gotten changed into appropriate fencing attire so that they could participate as well since Demsey and his siblings, his brothers especially had done nothing but gawk at you and the other mouras in small, very form fitting white work out clothes and bits of white leather armour in places in the outfit.
Demsey had thought he had walked into a fevered dream, watching you wield a sword and a small shield like a true shield maiden and every orc instinct had been screaming at him that at last, he had found a true warchieftess and he needed to show off to you his own fighting ability, as limited as it was compared to the other fighting styles you were clearly displaying. Being in high society, he was used to fencing and shooting, but that was the extent of it. Some of the common orcs still held brawling battles with the weapons of wars of old, like battle axes and broadswords and the like in the clan halls, but such things were seen as unseemly to the orcs in higher society and seen as barbaric and Demsey and his family as well as the other orcs in high society had made efforts to distance themselves from the “common” orcs in such things in order to be accepted by the rest of the gentry.
But now- seeing the style of which mouras fought- the style similarities were clear and perfectly natural. However the manner of the komoba fighting was much more aggressive and meant for a battlefield, meant to actually slay and kill your opponent, with the match only ending when it was clear that the opponent would be one pass from a weapon away from decapitating or dismembering the opponent with blows that would kill the other in quick succession. It was both beautiful in it’s violence, devastating in efficiency but yet had a dramatic flair that was impossible to resist being drawn in to see how each match would play out, where fencing played out on a thin strip of space, this was set in an octagon shape. The spaces lined out with paint in the grass itself.
One had to have a keen eye and lightning fast reflexes to strike and counter strike and the weapons, although these were made of wood or very dull metals, they were dipped in paint to show all the blows and strikes and “kills” that shown up on the white leather armour of the participants with barrels of water and cloths to wipe away the paint after each match with buckets and buckets of paint for the weapons to be painted in- in every color of the rainbow and then some.
Your paint color of choice was a brilliant turquoise and Demsey had watched with eager anticipation how when sparring with your grandmother- whose color was a brilliant copper orange- how your grandmother who was clearly the master and teacher of the group, all others taking instruction from her.
At first she had simply gone over the drills with you, all of you sitting in grid pattern, doing the exercises and drills with your grandmother staying close to you, using surprising gentleness in her critique, offering just as much praise as she did censure about your form of the various stretching poses and fighting poses as she was the first to spar with you, seeing how much you had remembered and how much your body remembered and how much you had lost over the last two years of neglecting the practice.
At one point she had blindfolded you and had short staff and a longer one in each hand and walked around you and occasionally would gently tap at your body to signify attacks, some of them light, some of them more forceful, to see how you reacted, evaded and counterattacked, leaning on your other senses besides sight to do so and Demsey had never seen anything more captivating and it made him ache and yearn to be a part of it, thus, the fencing attire, he and his brothers now sported.
Not even boxing fighters in a ring had so much contact with their opponents as this style of fighting did. Sometimes the key was to keep the enemy at a distance, other times it was to get as close as physically possible to deliver the devastating blow, sometimes it even involved grappling and pinning the other to the ground first. It struck Demsey to see the methods and philosophy behind each move and style of fighting and how it seemed to encompass everything and style and way of thinking and how there was clearly an array and a scale to it. Some of the styles were very simple, others- much more complicated but when blended made something awe inspiring.
Gregori had watched the match with your grandmother until she noticed that Gregori seemed to be waiting to speak with you and ended the session for the moment so that you could speak with him in private.
“Yes?” You asked Gregori as he pulled you aside and took your arm into the crook of his elbow after you had wiped off all the copper paint from your body so that none would get on Gregori or his clothes.
“How are you liking things here at the palace?” Gregori asked.
“It’s a palace, everything is exquisite.” You answered pleasantly, already on guard as you could tell Gregori was about to try his best to sell his son to you as a husband.
“Has everything been to your liking so far?” Gregori asked.
“Yes,” you nodded as you smiled politely.
“Could I speak candidly with you?” He asked politely.
“Please do, I thoroughly enjoy honest and candid conversation.” You encouraged him.
“I understand that from partaking in mourkatili, even with as high of a dose as you have been forced to partake in, that your reproductive abilities are hindered.” He began.
“That...is true.” You nodded, even though in truth you had tried to take pains to use eastern medicine to recapture it. But you could not be sure of your results.
“I want you to know that if you and Ramsey were to ever enter into a romantic attachment that you should know that we would never, ever, expect you to mother heirs. Your life is worth more than any hiers you would risk your life trying to bear.” Gregori assured you.
“...ok.” You blinked in surprise as you frowned in confusion, which was utterly adorable.
“You see Ramsey has had several lovers and already has many illegitimate heirs and if you were to ever marry, you could always save those illegitimate heirs and make them legitimate by adopting them. It would bring them out of poverty and give them the lives they rightly deserve but yet, Yalin and I, our hands are tied so to speak to do any better for them than we already have.” Gregori explained.
“And I understand that your brother and Ramsey have already become attached and it would only be right that he should remain by your side, to live out his days to make sure that you never again suffer and both of you could live perfectly comfortably and happily here with us.” Gregori offered.
“But such a life...it would not be honest,” you began to softly and gently counter.
“But it would be fair. So far the investigation with the Morrigans have found solid evidence and proof of their attempts to murder you. The courts will surely award all that they have to you for recompense. We have the power to make that happen. We can elevate you to that of Dauphine in English society and as a Dowager among the stables. We can get you justice and revenge for what you’ve suffered. We had a mage help with the investigation. He found your scene catcher spell, with the password, we can have all we need on Agnes and Richard.” Gregori revealed as you blinked in surprise as fear seemed to bloom in your chest. If they had already broken the password, you could be finished.
“But Jane and I corrupted some of the feed. The moment of Edward’s death, he was in the act of…” Your voice broke as even now tears came to your eyes at the horror and violence of the moment came flooding back to your mind. “He was in the act...of raping me and he had….he had a heart attack and died. It was so horrific. I had Jane help me strike it from the record. So just by that alone, it’s corrupted and it’s been tampered with. It won’t hold up in court.” You confessed lowly as your big gold eyes welled with tears.
“Just that admittance alone is enough to justify why that isn’t in the record, the judge will allow it and allow the rest of it to stand on its own and it will be taken as gospel and if there is anything else that you would like to keep from it to preserve your own integrity and dignity. That will be allowed as well. You are a lady after all. Not everyone needs to see every little thing, this investigation is to expose the Morrigans, not you.” Gregori reassured you.
“But what about Jane and little Eddie?” You asked.
“It is clear that you wish to protect them, that is truly amiable despite their parent’s treatment of you. I believe your brother Ocearian can save Jane from the shame of what her parents have done. She is, as you say, innocent. Ocearian I’m sure will happily take Jane home to Dorierra and with her- little Edward.”
“What if I want Jane to have her fair share of her family’s wealth? I don’t want to leave her or her brother with nothing and no choice but to flee to Dorierra. What if they wish to stay here in England. Could I at least leave Broadcove to Jane and Edward?” You asked.
“If that is your wish. Of course, it will be all available to you do as you wish with it.” Gregori agreed.
“Do you need my answer now, or can I think it over?” You asked him.
“Think on it as long as you need to, no rash decisions need to be made today.” Gregori reassured you gently which you greatly appreciated.
“Then do you have a piece of paper?” You asked him before he produced a small notebook and a small pencil.
“This is the password to most of it, it should give everyone all they need for the court case.” You said.
“Excellent, I shall get my best men on this, you will get justice and your just rewards for your pain and suffering, I swear and promise you.” Gregori grinned victoriously as he kissed your temple the same way his own daughter before he left again and you returned to the others.
“What was that about?” Axal asked you.
“Gregori asked for one of the keys to my ace. I gave a small one to him.” You hinted as you dabbed at your eyes as you steeled yourself for what was to come, both in the battle and in the court case afterwards.
“So you’re going through with the court case? What about your precious peace?” Axal asked.
“I’ve had a year of it. After this court case, I’ll have a lifetime of it.” You said as you got your wooden weapons redipped in your preferred paint.
“But what was his price for it?” Axal asked.
“That IF Ramsey and I were to ever get married, that I would consider adopting his illegitimate heirs and share Ramsey with you, whereas you would get to live with me and “protect” me from further abuse here. I didn’t give an answer one way or another and all I told him was that I would carefully consider it.” You reassured him before you got into sparring positions with Axal.
“And when Octavia comes, I’m sure she’ll happily comply with those terms as well.” You offered as you blocked his attack and counter attacked with ease. “Just make sure Ramsey knows to put on a good show of being captivated by her and wanting her and only her when she does come so I can get off clean.” You insisted as you dipped and dodged his attack and struck a gut blow with your shorter “dagger” on his middle.
“I will.” Axal reassured you.
“And what will you do with your hundreds of thousands of pounds?” Axal asked.
“Share them with Jane so that she is taken care of as well, hell I’ll even give Octavia a share of it, if it means I don’t have to marry Ramsey and you for that matter so that you can care for Octavia’s lover as your own wife.” You readily offered.
“Because I’m sure Yalin and Gregori only wish to see Ramsey happy, and once they see that I can not make him so and that you and Octavia can in all respects, then that can settle the matter.” You insisted.
“But what about Duke Demsey, won’t he need an heir?” Axal questioned as he used his shoulder to knock you away and off balance before you regained it.
“He does, that is what gives me pause. I do not think his affection for me may outweigh his own obligations and duty to his family. But we are still only friends. He may not wish for anything more from me. There may be another he has his eye on anyway, I will just have to wait and see. For all I know, I’m offending him even now. Proper English ladies do not participate in hunting or fencing or anything like that. It’s unladylike. So the fact that I know swordsmanship may be turning him off of me as we speak, look, even his own sisters sit by the side and only watch and do not participate themselves.” You mused as Axal and yourself finished your own sparring to rest and take a breath of air as you sat in the shade of a nearby tree and watched the others spar as you sat side by side.
“He’s an orc, his orcish heritage means shieldmaidens and warchieftesses are coveted. If anything I think you’re turning him onto you now more than any other. You were too focused on sparring with Grandma to notice how he was practically drooling and because of that, he was the first to insist that he dress in fencing attire to properly take part in all of this. He’s a decent swordsman, but that is all he is. He has no other skills, at least any that I can see.” Axal mused as he watched Demsey and Sierge fence each other in the very English style.
“In this society, he doesn’t need any other skills besides those, and even though they have that past, clearly they don’t embrace it in the present.” You shrugged as you again nodded over to where Amara, Kiera and little Callie watched on.
“Do you like English society?” Axal asked.
“It has its quirks and moments, rules of etiquette are extensive and date back to the medieval period for most of it and they like to pride themselves for having “polite, civilized and polished society”. But with industrialization, their business practices can be barbaric and ruthless, some men make or lose their fortunes in weeks or months, bask in the sunlight one moment or be shattered on the rocks the next with the tides. There are terms like “old money” and “new money”. The Morrigans have the old noble heritage even though most of their wealth has been amassed fairly recently, just in the last two generations. But the Morrigans are considered “old money” and the Voyambi’s are considered “new money” only because they’ve had their noble title and wealth within the last three generations. Their classed society makes movement restricted and women are property of their fathers then their husbands and I’ve seen women in this society choose peace over their dignity because while they are expected to be at home and run the home, their husbands are expected to bring income yet can splurge most of that income into gambling or whores or misstresses of plenty, even Richard has several whores, his favorite lives in Broadcove and his little bastards are being trained as stable boys and game keepers or gardeners, he keeps her to her appartment of rooms like a parrot to it's cage and his illegitamate daughters are being brought up to be ladies maids in the house in fact my first paid companion was his eldest illegetimate daughter came with me to Mirador as my own maid because I felt sorry for the way Agnes always treated her, in fact most of Richard's bastards followed me to Mirador because I treated them like people. Who had no power over who their father was. It is wholly barbaric in of itself. But because that is the norm, it makes competition to find a gentlemen in both name, status and breeding important, but of character- with how polite society and it’s customs dictate, it’s a gamble and true happiness in marriage is a chance. Not a given,. And what a man may be like in public may not be the same kind of man in private. Yalin and Gregori seem to be the exception, not the rule.” You admitted as Axal blinked in surprise at your revelation.
“Do you think you’d be happy with Demsey though?” Axal pressed.
“I honestly don’t know, we get along and we are friends and we have moments where possibilities threaten to ignite but something keeps it from actually doing so. I tried feeling him out last night to see if he would be open to anything and he...he was withdrawn and wouldn’t...he would not make himself available in spirit, he was...he was closed off to me, even with drink in hand, I could feel it in his energy, he was missing someone. He really had to push himself to stay with me mentally- in the moment. Which makes me think that there might be someone else that has caught his mind and heart, who is not Kate Whitesale, or me. But someone else, someone in the past. Maybe one of his workers, maybe one of his secretaries, maybe his favorite maid at Whydah. But polite society means I can not ask him about any of it or even his sisters who would be offended at me implying anything by asking while being none the wiser and completely unaware of their brother’s private lives and are purposefully kept in the dark about almost all of it." You sighed in defeat as Axal just stared in bittersweet fondness at you.
"And who am I to demand answers to such questions from him? He has made no declaration of intent towards me other than friendship. He has only stated that he wishes to be my friend. That is all he has said. And that is all his actions have said as well, at least so far. And I have no choice but to take him at his word. But the longer Demsey and his brothers participate but his sisters do not, makes me think that the same applies even in their family, even with them being orcs, notorious the world over for their proficiency and fierceness in battle even evenly among the sexes, which again leads to be believe that I offend him in the knowledge that I can fend for myself physically.” You confessed lowly to Axal before Demsey approached.
“You fence well Demsey.” You praised as you noticed he was drenched in sweat already and smelled wholly delicious as the very inappropriate thought of licking some of that sweat off of him popped into your head before you tried to swish it away mentally as you damned your own body for it's natural physical reaction to him.
“Thank you, I didn’t know if you had noticed, I know my skill can hardly compete with your own.” He praised which surprised you.
“Well you could always spar with her. See for yourself.” Axal suggested as you turned and looked at Axal incredulously.
“I would be honored.” Demsey readily agreed.
“Are you sure?” You asked Demsey.
“Yes, I’m sure I could learn several, if not dozens or even hundreds of things from you, if you would be willing to teach me.” Demsey insisted as you blinked in surprise as your jaw fell, leaving your mouth just slightly agape, just a little as your mouth ran dry as your brain once again was eager to supply all of the things you’d like to teach him, like making love to you right for starters, before Axal practically pushed you towards Demsey who offered his hand to you to help you up off the ground before you took his hand and let him help you to your feet.
“You would not feel emasculated or embarrassed if I bested you?” You asked. “I do not wish to embarrass you, especially in front of your family or mine.” You whispered to him as you walked with him back to the group.
“Not at all. You are granddaughter to the Great Saharan Viper, and her most prized pupil, how could I possibly be embarrassed to lose to such a champion?” He flattered you as you blushed and smiled bashfully and had the ground had the slightest bit of unevenness, you probably would have tripped and fallen straight onto your face.
“But my skills are rusty, I have not held a sword in two years. I may have forgotten most of it.” You tried to excuse.
“Audra, you will not hurt my pride, do not disparage yourself. I was watching you, you have retained more skill than I think you give yourself credit for. It’s like riding a horse, once you learn, you never fully forget and the style is most intriguing to say the least, so what color should my weapons be dipped in?” He encouraged you as he stood with you in front of the other buckets of bright color paints.
“Whichever strikes your fancy, and whichever you like best.” You shrugged before he chose a wonderful purple color that was a nice contrast to your own turquoise.
“Are you sure you want to try this? The rules of komoba are wholly different from the fencing you are used to. Because all those rules that fencing prides itself on- get thrown out and no longer apply, the object is to strike down your opponent by any means necessary, using everything you have to your own advantage and what can get you disqualified in fencing get you a win in komoba.” You gently warned him.
“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life, komoba is...everything a proper fighting sport should be, realistic with real battlefield applications, fencing is pointless on a real battlefield.” Demsey reassured you and once again those butterflies started fluttering in your stomach as your heart fluttered delightfully as your smile turned bashful once again and your cheeks flushed beautifully. It seemed Demsey’s own reserve the night before- had seemed to vanish now as a new boldness seemed to take hold of him and you adored it.
“Then why don’t you use the battle axes that orcs are supposed to be so fond of?” You questioned only to see him falter slightly.
“Um, well, I’ve...never had an opportunity or reason to wield one before. My grandfather’s from the war- they along with his armor hang on the wall, and the late king gifted my grandfather a golden enamelled set but they are strictly decorative.” He revealed.
“So...you have no experience with any other weapons besides the swords of the fencing variety?” You asked him.
“Not even broadswords or longswords or…” You asked him in confusion as Demsey’s shoulders sagged in shame as his head dropped a bit as he had to shake his head no.
“No, the commoner orcs still practice such things in the clan halls and of course soldiers do. But since my family and others who are in the gentry, we do not partake in such things and take pains to distance ourselves from such things for fear of others in the gentry to view us as “barbaric” too.” Demsey confessed lowly.
“But do you think such things are barbaric?” You asked worriedly because if Demsey thought komoba was “barbaric” you were going to force yourself to lose interest in him because you were sick of having to divorce yourself from your own moura heritage, you had done it enough with the Morrigans, never again would you do it, you had sworn yourself an oath.
“No. I think it’s part of our history that we should be proud of. In fact I insisted that Whydah have a proper gymnasium to take up the practices again, granted in private because to do so publicly would damage our reputation.” Demsey tried to explain as his cheeks flushed into a deep pine green.
“But komoba is by far the most elevated form of fighting in the world. And it’s a sport I wish I had much more experience with and I wish I could build a proper komoba battle ground at Whydah so that we could take up the sport there too.” Demsey offered, trying his best to not to sound as hypocritical as he felt.
“Well, I’m biased but I feel the same way, that komoba is the best form of fighting however I can understand the need to protect one’s reputation. The Morrigans forbade me from holding any kind of weapon, often instructing the chefs to serve my dinner to me precut so that I would not wield so much as a dinner knife because they thought my komoba training was unladylike and uncouth and would tarnish the Morrigan name and wished to divorce me from it and any other parts of my moura heritage that didn’t fit the more proper “English” lifestyle.” You explained.
“And such measures are an egregious sin, no one should be so divorced from their own heritage, especially when such a heritage is so rich in tradition and color and splendor.” Demsey tried to praise as you just shook your head because clearly Demsey had done the same to himself and his own heritage.
“So, obviously, you clearly resent their efforts in thus.” Demsey realized from your tone since it had sounded pretty resentful to him which gave him hope that he could seperate himself in your mind and make himself as appealing as possible because he wanted to accept you and your heritage with open arms.
“I do. Which is why I’m surprised you asked to spar with me.” You noted.
“Why?” He asked curiously.
“Because while you are eager to learn the komoba style from me, I see that your sisters sit on the side lines, watching with eager eyes and jealousy to watch Benny and Calla and their siblings as well as myself and my own siblings of both genders take part in the komoba training. And it makes me wonder if you or your parents would be taking the same stance with them learning it as well. Orcs are known to have shield maidens and warcheiftesses do they not? Or does your family also wish to distance itself from that history in order to embrace the more proper “English” ways? Especially in it's womenfolk?” You questioned as Demsy looked at you in shock yet realization as he looked from you to his sisters and back to you again as once again, shame and embarrassment began to eat at him.
“Audra, please, please forgive me, I didn’t even think...or consider...any of that. If you will excuse me for just a moment, I need to rectify this, immediately.” Demsey realized as he put his weapons down in the grass and immediately left and went over to his sisters who were sitting under a canopy to protect them from the morning sun.
“What’s wrong? I thought you looked to be just about to get your wish and get a chance to spar with Audra?” Amara asked curiously.
“I was...until she brought it to my attention of how unfair it is that Sierge, Tzane and I are trying to partake and participate but that you and Kiera and Callie are being excluded and it isn’t right. You all should feel just as welcome and just as included to participate in this as we are.” Demsey insisted to his eldest sister.
“Thank you! Finally!” Kiera exclaimed exasperated before she got up and went over to Benny and asked if Benny had an extra set of komoba clothes as Amara smiled happily and did the same with Calla as Callie bravely went up to you as you readily agreed to let her borrow your own spares as all of you re-entered the castle to get redressed just as the Duke and Duchess Voyambi left the palace to join everyone in the gardens as Yalin also emerged wearing her own day komoba battle clothes from her youth, although she did have to be squeezed and cinched into them because her body had changed a fair bit since her youth.
“So where are you ladies off to?” Yalin asked.
“Oh the Voyambi ladies wish to also try to learn komoba with us, we were going to be lending them our spare day clothes for it.” You readily offered as the Duke and Duchess were surprisingly pleasant with the news.
“Oh of course. With such masters of the sport here, it would be a shame to not take advantage of such an opportunity.” Duke Voyambi reassured his daughters who practically squealed in delight.
“Thank you Papa,” they thanked their father with a kiss to his cheek before you all eagerly went back to your room to change.
“Thank you for saying something to Demsey.” Kiera thanked you as you finished with Callie’s suit and then turned your attention to Amara.
“You’re welcome. Whenever I see injustice and unfairness, if I can equalize it, I like to try.” You answered her.
“Women in English society are restricted enough just in the wearing of our corsets and being “polite” in society, especially on the train to gentlemen who feel entitled to converse with you and invade your space. No need for much more than that is there?” You giggled as you laced up the covers over Amara’s forearms.
“No truer words have ever been spoken. That’s why we never go anywhere without our brothers for that very reason.” Amara confessed.
“So in Dorierra, how young are you when you first learn komoba?” Callie asked.
“Three. As soon as we learn to walk and don’t fall over just trying to walk from one end of the house to the other as young toddlers do.” You answered her.
“Three?! That’s when orcs of old used to learn to fight too!” Callie offered.
“Speaking of, have any of you ever learned any of the old ways?” You asked them as Kiera, Amara and Callie all shook their heads no.
“No, once grandfather got the Duchy, he forbade our father from ever learning any of the old ways. Because the gentry turned their noses up at us and the other orcs, trolls and the like who had gotten into the nobility at the same time were our only society. But at the same time, the common orcs who fought side by side with him in the war, would not socialize with us either, thinking that because we had the duchy, that we were too good for the likes of them. And they wouldn’t even let us go to the clan halls, thinking that we would take them over with just our nobility instead of honoring the old ways of tradition. They would allow father and grandfather into the fencing houses but as soon as they would enter, the other patrons would quickly leave. It wasn’t until Demsey and Sierge were born and were brought to the fencing places that others found that they had no skills whatsoever, and would lose almost every match that they accepted Demsey and Sierge and then Tzane until they got to be proficient. But the moment any of them use their full strength, they get disqualified for “overpowering” their opponents. It pushes them to walk almost impossibly fine lines and it’s only when Demsey championed for the unions that we got welcomed back into the clan halls again, but only for meetings to discuss clan affairs, never for the fighting or anything like that.” Amara explained.
“Oooh, that, that explains it then. I know what that is like. The Morrigans forbade me from even wielding a dinner knife, much less any other kind of weapon. Because they didn’t want any parts of my moura heritage to tarnish their Morrigan name and proper English sensibilities. And I know what it’s like to divorce yoruself from your own heritage to survive. So your family has my sympathy and empathy in this matter.” You offered before you left the room.
“Yeah, that’s probably why I’ll never settle on English soil then.” Benny confessed to you and Calla as you left the room and locked the door behind you.
“Oh poor Sierge, he’ll be so heartbroken to hear that.” You cooed to her sarcastically which got her to snort a laugh.
“When I had said something to Sierge about how it wasn’t fair for him to participate but his sisters were simply watching, he insisted that proper English ladies never should be allowed to participate, and no lady worth her honor in English society would even want to because it should serve as a distinction between the sexes’.” Benny confessed which made you and Calla gasp.
“But yet one word from you and Demsey had the opposite reaction.” Calla realized.
“What I’m curious about is, how you responded to Sierge’s comment.” You put to Benny since the Voyambi sisters had practically jogged down the hallway to get to the courtyard as quickly as possible.
“He couldn’t say much around the mouthful of golden yellow paint I put in his mouth with the short dagger stick before I put him into the ground so hard all the air got knocked out of his lungs, I think he’s probably still throwing up from having swallowed so much paint.” Benny proudly beamed which got you and Calla to bust up laughing.
“Put him in his place, I like it.” You offered with a mischievous smile.
“If he thought that way about proper English ladies, what did he think of us then?” Calla asked Benny.
“Oh he thought we were the exception because we were moura and would continue to be the exception because of it.” Benny answered.
“Double standards at it best I suppose.” Calla sighed tiredly.
“Well then let’s not waste this opportunity to show off how truly amazing mouras can be.” You insisted.
Meanwhile Bellfast, the Mage came to the Palace of Windsor to see Gregori personally, as he watched from a safe distance to see you and the other moura’s leave the palace for the gardens.
“Ah, Bellfast, my good fellow, Lady Audravienne has given me the password to the scene catchers.” Gregori happily said as he showed Bellfast the password.
“Yes, I already have divined it and the second and the third.” Bellfast reported with a meaningful look to Gregori before Gregori quickly led the way to a private office.
“And?” Gregori prompted.
“You need to see this.” Bellfast insisted as Gregori had ushered Ballfast into a private office as Bellfast cast the moment of Edward’s death onto a small mirror in the office as Gregori watched on intently. Frowning in disgust at the scene before a loud crash boomed through the room and Gregori gasped as his eyes went wide as he covered his mouth with his own hand and watched as the scene unfolded before Gregori’s own servants knocked on the door to make sure he was alight and safe which Gregori quickly reassured them and ordered them to leave immediately and to not say a word of the sound to anyone or they would be whipped and then dismissed immediately.
“Who else has seen this?” Gregori demanded of Bellfast.
“Only you, myself, Audravienne- because she lived through it, and Miss Jane Morrigan who came up with the third password to help Audravienne destroy it. It was completely struck from all the records so that even the sound of the crash was gone, the Morrigans were out to dinner and little Edward was asleep, but even the other servants heard it down into the basements. But Jane bribed them to keep quiet about it and old Edward’s doctor simply said he died of a heart attack and the bed was quickly set to be burned and was ash by the time the Morrigans got home. I can recreate the bed if need be.” Bellfast offered.
“No need right now. Do not let on that you know of any of this. I have my own uses for this. For now, only use the first password that Lady Audravienne has provided and compile all you can in a case against the Morrigans for time’s sake and make the second and the third passwords appear invisible and all that they contain inaccessable for now and do not use anything that is protected behind those other two. String everything else together in such a way that the poisoning of Edward is hung on the Count and Countess Morrigan so that they could fully inherit the estate sooner but make it so that it looks like they are framing Audra for it, which they clearly feel she did, and obviously their poisoning of Audra and all abuses to her by them and by the old Edward, I want any judge and jury to find Audra as innocent as the white dove she is and will continue to be and appear so, but also, if Lady Audravienne will not cooperate further, do your best to hang the Wolf Eye on her and obviously the murder.” Gregori instructed.
“That won’t be difficult to do. Also I have recreated all of Lady Audravienne’s mail and all four postmen are currently in prison and their confessions are on the record, as are all the servants who were involved in Lady Audravienne’s poisoning. But all the others who were involved with covering up Edward’s true cause of death are still free and Lady Audravienne's servants at Mirador that followed her from Broadcove are most intriguing." Bellfast said as he handed the latest report to Gregori who took it and read it over, almost giggling in his chuckle as he read it over.
"The Morrigans are of course panicked but claim they have the proof of the Wolf Eye coming from Audra, which other than coercing their own remaining servants to say so, the scene catchers clearly contradict which means we can pin insanity onto them and Dr. Rickets is simply awaiting instruction and of course is eager to say either way in order to keep his liscence to continue to practice his medicine, he claims he did something to the mourkatili to make it less lethal and less damaging to Lady Audravienne's person, claiming to the Morrigans that such measures were to "intensify" it's effect but in all actuallity it was only to protect your interests and claims that he can cure Lady Audravienne so that she can bear heirs without any ill effects and reverse the mourkatili, even at such a dose as was given to her.” Bellfast offered.
“Excellent.” Gregori beamed proudly. “How much is owed to you for such services?” Gregori asked as he went into his own box of funds in the room.
“Oh, for now my bill is with the Morrigans, but I will still happily take my agreed payment from you, however when Lady Audravienne wins her case, I’ll ask for a tip from her in her preference.” Bellfast began to chuckle darkly which Gregori soon mirrored as Gregori handed over a thousand pounds in a stack of bills.
“Yes, she will. I can’t wait to see what she is truly capable of. For now though she is hesitant and weary, let us win her trust and confidence first and only if she becomes uncooperative, then we can use this as leverage, but otherwise she has been a dream to work with and responds best with a gentle guiding hand and kindness, which considering the abuse- is no wonder to anyone. Yes, tender loving care will be all that is needed to pacify her and keep her happy and content. After the komoba battle, every moura instinct in her will be truly awakened and she will come to all of her senses that the Morrigans tried to dull. Oh and if I may request one more favor, just incase Dr. Rickets can not provide what he has offered, find the best mourkatili antidote you can with the added benefit that Lady Audravienne’s womb will be restored to her and her full health that she enjoyed when she left from Dorierra, just in case Dr. Rickets is not to be trusted.” Gregori requested before Bellfast simply took a very fancy glass bottle, wrapped in silk cloth to keep it safe, out of his coat pocket and unwrapped it before he put it on the desk in front of Gregori with a smug grin before handing over the silk itself.
“Only have her drink it after the court case, for now the mourkatili will still show up in her hair under blacklight, since it will purple, if it is still strong within her, it will also show up in her eyes under black light as well.” Bellfast instructed.
“Excellent.” Gregori beamed before he took it and rewrapped it and put it into his own pocket.
“Good work Bellfast, as always, you are the best Mage in all of Europa and I’m so happy that you answered my invitation.” Gregori praised him.
“Thank you for the invitation in the first place. I will happily use these funds to further my own research.” Bellfast grinned as he took his payment and tucked it away into the pocket the antidote had previously been put into before Gregori saw his guest out before he called his servants over.
"Do not let the Dauphine or anyone else know that the Mage Bellfast was here today, this report was sent by a messenger and there was no sound of a crash in the study, was there?" Gregori practically snarled at his servants who nodded yes as their knees had to be locked to keep from knocking together in fear.
"Yes your Grace." They answered obediantly before Gregori smiled victoriously and straightened up and returned to the gardens where your grandmother was now teaching all the Voyambi's, the Duke and Duchess included the basics of Komoba along with Yalin who he took aside and slipped the report into her hands.
"Just delivered just now from the Mage from a messenger." Gregori told his wife as she read it as her eyes got as large as saucers.
"Oh my, this is the scandal of the century." Yalin had to admit.
"And I can't wait to read all about it in the gossip collumns when the matter is brought up in court." Gregori incited with a scheming smile to his wife that she was powerless to resist from mirroring.
"Yes it will." She agreed before she got back into the grid to finish her own refresher course in kamoba.
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blancheludis · 3 years
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@whumptober2021 Day 5: Misunderstandings
Fandom: DCU, Batman, Superman Characters: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Tags: Misunderstandings, Unhealthy Relationship, Miscommunication, Open Ending Words: 4.404
Summary: “I bought the bank,” Bruce says, his face unreadable as ever, but he looks like he is waiting for something.
Clark stands with his parents’ farm in his back, the farm that now belongs to Bruce, and he understands, loud and clear. I bought you.
So, with his mother’s home and well-being on the line, he has little choice but to follow when Bruce beckons.
---
“I bought the bank,” Bruce says, his hands hidden in his trouser pockets, completely casual.
His face is unreadable as ever but Clark knows that face by now, knows that Bruce never does anything without reason.
So, what Clark hears, loud and unmistakeably, is, I bought you.
He swallows, his mouth dry, searching for the right thing to say but coming up empty. The distance between them stretches, growing larger with every passing, silent second.
Then Bruce frowns, causing ice to spread inside Clark’s chest. Bruce bought him. That means he is not just holding Clark’s life in his hands but also that of his mother. He understands that the farm is safe for now, the house will remain standing – now the ball is in Clark’s corner to keep it that way.
“Thank you,” Clark says, far too late, but he somehow manages to sound calm, not as brittle as he feels, blindsided by this sudden change of his fate.
The frown vanishes from Bruce’s face but that only makes the icy grip around Clark’s insides tighten. He had not thought Bruce capable of this, trying to control him and demanding him to be happy about it, too.
“You didn’t have to,” Clark adds cautiously. Bruce could have just asked if he wanted Clark, did not have to go to the trouble of holding his home and family hostage.
“Nonsense,” Bruce says, dismissing in a way that seems to come so easily to him. It has Clark gritting his teeth, even while he keeps his face friendly – a very thin façade.
Here they are, regularly saving the world together, but they are apparently still not equals. Clark pointedly does not look at the house behind him, at the fading colours and the cracks in the porch, at the corner where the roof threatens to give in during the next storm. He did not grow up with money to spare but they were never poor, not in any way that matters. There was always warmth to be found in their house, always love.
Rather uncharitably, Clark thinks that is where they differ. Not because Clark is an alien with super strength and super speed, while Bruce is human. No, Clark is rich in terms of love. He knows where he comes from and where he belongs. Bruce, on the other hand, is lost, building relentlessly to hide the fact that there is no ground to build on.
“I’d invite you in,” Clark says, although he really, really would not. Whatever game Bruce is playing, he will not do it in front of his mother. “But I should tell my mom first.”
Bruce straightens even while his brow creases again just a bit, enough to make Clark wonder what the price for disappointing Bruce will be. Whether they will lose the house immediately or if he will dismantle Clark’s life in a different way first.
“I’ll come to the Manor once I’m done,” Clark offers quickly and takes a step towards Bruce, hoping he is not placating him too obviously. Bruce likes subtlety, after all.
They have known each other for a while now, fought next to each other, and yet he has no idea how to please Bruce, what is expected of him here.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Bruce says, still as unreadable, but he looks slightly less tense.
Clark smiles. It is a real thing if borne of relief instead of happiness. He is glad to take this to the Manor. It is already such an empty place, grief permeating its shadows. Clark will not feel bad about adding his own to it.
“Give my best to your mother,” Bruce says as he is already turning away, off-handed like there is nothing to it, just a social nicety.
Clark’s smile freezes. He stares at Bruce’s back. Later, he will think that he should not have been surprised. Batman is built to be a threat, his every move and word meant to subdue and intimidate. But Bruce is subtler than that, underhanded. Hiding his threats beneath well-wishes that, under any other circumstances would have been innocuous, is right up Bruce’s alley, although it hits Clark like a sucker punch.
He hears the warning loud and clear. I bought you and I expect you to fall in line. Or else.
Clark loves his home but he loves his mother more. “I will,” he says and means it. There is no other choice anyway.
---
Clark thinks briefly about contacting Diana. Perhaps she would have some insight into what Bruce expects. Although, if he is honest with himself, Clark knows. He noticed Bruce’s stares, slowly morphing from distrust to respect to something he thought was welcoming but might have been simple want instead.
He could have asked. Ignoring their bumpy beginnings, Clark liked working with Bruce. They could have built something. But perhaps that is not what Bruce is interested in. He likes control, that much is clear, and maybe he sensed that Clark does not want to be on the receiving end of that. That could be the game and Bruce will tire of it quickly. Somehow, Clark knows that will not be the case.
He is stalling. After talking to his mother, he went to his old room, her relief leaving a bittersweet aftertaste. There is so much to do, but he guesses Bruce’s patience will run out if Clark starts retiling the roof instead of doing as he is told.
No, he decides, he cannot tell Diana. She does not do subtle and Clark cannot afford force. He will give himself half an hour and then he will do what must be done. That is what heroes do, after all, even if he has never felt less like one.
Later, Alfred opens the door for him, smiling with a warmth that Clark does not understand. “Mr. Kent, what a pleasure to see you here.”
Clark nods in greeting, tries to pull up his lips and fails miserably. “I guess Bruce is waiting for me?”
He is and he is not, looking surprised when Clark enters his office. “I didn’t expect you so soon.” Clark was not exactly given a schedule, but he prefers to be early rather than late. “Come, we need to go over some things.”
Privately, Clark expects rules on how this new life of his will run. Instead, it is business as usual, talking about the League. He barely hears a word Bruce is saying but makes sure to nod in the appropriate places.
He stays for dinner – Bruce does not say he can leave – and while he knows that Alfred is an excellent cook, everything tastes like ash.
 ---
The first time they kiss, Bruce holds him like he is afraid Clark will disintegrate in his arms. Only when Clark pushes forward, acting eager to drown out the churning of his stomach, does the tension bleed out of Bruce’s muscles. If things were different, Clark could even enjoy this. He had thought about it, even, about Bruce. But either Bruce never looked at him the same way or he just likes to make sure his lovers cannot leave on their own terms.
All the following times, Bruce kisses like a drowning man, desperate for the air in Clark’s lungs even knowing that it is poisoned. 
None of it makes sense. Clark is here to stay until he is dismissed. He will not refuse any of Bruce’s whims. And yet it feels as if it is Bruce who is waiting for the second shoe to drop, as if Clark will one day decide his mother’s home and well-being are not important for him anymore and leave.
It does not give Clark a sense of power. Instead, he just wonders when their time is finally running out, afraid of what the fallout will be.
 ---
“Where were you all our lives?” Jason asks one night when they are waiting for Bruce so they can eat dinner. “B is like a new person since you decided to give his sorry ass a chance.”
Clark did no such thing, but that is better kept between him and Bruce, so he shrugs. “Waiting for the right opportunity, I guess.” Bruce certainly did, and Clark did not have much choice but to follow.
He does not have much contact with Bruce’s family, but they treat him like he is one of them. Somehow, Clark thinks, this would be easier if they did not, if at least someone would acknowledge that he is nothing but a stranger, one of Bruce’s few indulgences, just one wrong step away from being dropped and put outside with the trash.
“Well, I wouldn’t have minded having you around when I was still living here.” Jason’s grin looks real, not even a hint of sharpness beneath it, although nobody in this family could ever be described as soft. “Much fewer shouting matches.”
You should have bought your father a whore much sooner, Clark thinks but immediately scolds himself for it. Neither the children nor Alfred seem to know the reason for this arrangement. And Bruce treats him kindly, almost as if this were real.
And Clark does not only come here to warm Bruce’s bed. If he did not know any better, he would even say that Bruce values his company.
“Although your taste is questionable,” Jason continues, apparently not bothered by Clark’s silence. “You could do much better.”
And that is the thing, because in the situation he is in, Clark cannot do anything but acquiesce. He is getting a better version of Bruce than he expected, making it not hard to play along. But this, right here, is the best Clark can do while his mother’s fate is lying in Bruce’s hands.
“He’s your father,” Clark chides quietly, because what else is there to do?
Also, if he ignores the way it happened, he has little to complain about. Bruce is polite and giving and constantly concerned with Clark’s well-being. He does not think it is a façade. Not beyond the obvious.  
But if it is not a façade and it is not real either, he has no idea what else it could be. Clark hates being lost. It makes him feel like he is in freefall and, for once, unable to fly. He is not naïve enough to think somebody would catch him either.  
 ---
Clark expects kinks and pain and being uncomfortable the entire time, but Bruce is a generous lover. He never asks Clark to stay and yet always seems to be so glad when he does, almost like Clark is doing him a favour instead of not making a fuss about his duties.
None of it makes sense. Less so with every passing day.
Even with a handful of adopted children, Bruce is still regularly crowned most eligible bachelor. People are throwing themselves at him left and right. Some of them must be in it for more than just Bruce’s looks or money. There must even be someone who already knows about Batman. Someone who does not have to be coerced.
With a bit more time, Clark thinks he could have been that. Sometimes, when he lies awake in Bruce’s arms, warm and safe and satisfied, he resents that he was not given that time.
 ---
“Why don’t you invite your friend over to dinner?” his mother asks.
The roof has finally been retiled and Clark is thinking about repainting the living room. The question rips him out of his musings like someone dunked his head in ice water.
“My friend?” he asks, although he knows exactly who she is talking about.
Bruce is many things. His colleague and co-conspirator and lover. But they have never been given the chance to become friends.
“The one who helped with the farm,” his mother says, frowning at him. She knows exactly that he is stalling, just not why. And Clark will do everything in his power to make sure she never finds out. “I know you felt like we should have managed on our own, but who knows where we’d be without him.”
Without the farm, probably, but that does not necessarily mean they would be worse off.
“Bruce,” Clark says flatly as if he only just remembered the name. As if all of his thoughts do not circle around Bruce all the time these days – as if he does not sometimes think that is not only a bad thing.
“Exactly.” She smiles, honest and grateful and all the things she would not be if he were honest with her. “You never bring him here.”
Clark is sure his world would implode if he did. “He’s busy,” he dismisses, trying for a casual tone and failing. At least his mother might think he is merely nervous about bringing a partner home to meet her. And he is, just for all the wrong reasons. He is terrified of her liking Bruce.  
“Well, you’re seeing each other all the time,” she keeps digging, knowing she always gets what she wants sooner or later. Not this time, though. “Surely it won’t be too hard to invite him sometime.”
“Mom –”
“Clark,” she says in the same tone she used when he smuggled frogs into the house as a boy. “I haven’t properly thanked him yet.”
What is there to thank Bruce for? Clark is paying their debt every day. It might not feel this way most of the time, but he is still acutely aware of the truth.
“I’ll tell him,” Clark lies. “But you shouldn’t get your hopes up. I can barely get him to sit down for dinner when he’s just a few doors down from his office.”
The very idea makes him sick, thinking about Bruce sitting at their dinner table, looking at their family pictures on the walls, sliding neatly into a spot where he does not belong. Bruce is a charmer, he would steal his mother’s affection within moments of coming into the door. And that cannot happen. Clark’s heart is not made to be broken in that way. His mother wants to see him happy, he knows, and it is too much to lie to her about that.
 ---
“Why didn’t you just ask?” Clark does not mean to say that out loud, but he has been thinking it often during quiet hours.
Because whatever this is, Bruce does not seem to want to rule him. He is content with them just being together and yet he lets that executioner’s axe hover over Clark’s neck.
“Ask what?” Bruce blinks at him, growing more awake. They are lying in bed together, worn out and sleepy and Clark has already decided not to go home tonight, which has too little to do with what Bruce is expecting of him and too much with how comfortable he is, here at Bruce’s side.
It would be easy to bow out, feed Bruce something inconsequential. But Clark is tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Why didn’t you just ask me to go out? Why did you have to buy me?” He has never said the word out loud and he stumbles over it.
Confusion burrows Bruce’s brow as he stares. He has gone very, very still. “Buy you?”
Clark clicks his tongue, remembering why they never talked about it. It is too cumbersome to hash out the details. “Me. The bank. Same difference.”
Understanding dawns on Bruce’s face, giving way to something far greater, far darker. Clark does not get a chance to interpret it properly because Bruce all but pushes him away, scrambling out of the bed and to his feet. He is naked but stands in a fighting position like it is second nature to him no matter what he wears.
“I didn’t buy you.” The offence in his tone is undermined by growing confusion. It sounds very believable.
“You went to quite some length to gain control over my life. I’d say that counts as buying.” Before him, Bruce’s expression grows brittle but Clark presses on. This has been weighing on his soul for way too long. “I didn’t expect you to threaten my mother, but I guess that’s all part of the game.” The words taste bitter on his tongue, still tinged with fear of the possible repercussions. “Only, you’re not even doing anything you couldn’t have gotten if you’d just asked.”
No underhanded humiliations. No kinks where superhuman regeneration abilities come in handy. No secret grievances to pay for. It almost felt real, a relationship like any other, if not for the way it started.
“You think I bought you.” Bruce sounds old, his voice is rougher than usual, almost pained. He is leaning away from Clark, even while his feet remain steady on the ground.
Clark frowns. “You did.” As much as he could be bought, chained not by strength but by concern for what he holds dear.
“And then -” Bruce clears his throat when his voice breaks. “You came into my bed because you thought I’d what?”
“Take the farm. Put my mother on the street.” Clark knows this and yet his voice lilts up, turning his words into a question.
Bruce closes his eyes, his face so raw and open as Clark has never seen it before. It looks like he is in pain, sudden and suffocating. A weight sits heavily in Clark’s stomach as he wonders, just maybe, if he got it all wrong.
“I bought the bank,” Bruce says, voice so low that Clark has to strain to hear him. “And then I forgave your mother’s loan the very moment I could. I have nothing in hand to harm you or your family.”
That is not true, a voice in Clark’s head says but even at that moment he knows it is uncharitable. Bruce would not – but –
“You’re not –”
He is cut off as Bruce starts laughing. It is a sharp-edged thing, clawing its way up from some terrible place, fed by self-loathing and doubt. “You thought I was blackmailing you into having a relationship with me? And you just agreed?”
Bruce does not mock him, the incredulity is clearly pointed at himself, drawing blood with a certainty that speaks of life-long practice. And yet, Clark feels offended. He might not be human, but he is not above emotions, above fear.
“What was I supposed to do?” Clark asks, watching as Bruce’s expression falls further, deep lines opening up where Bruce usually hides everything beneath a clear canvas.
“You’re Superman. You’re a reporter,” he says as if the latter somehow weighs more. “You know my identity, so even if you didn’t want to kill me you could have stopped me any time.” He puts out the idea of being killed as if there is nothing to it. “And you’d have been right to ruin my life because all I’ve apparently done is ruin yours.”
This is not how Clark imagined this conversation to go. He expected to be shut down immediately, to be pushed back into silence. But this? “You didn’t ruin –” he tries to say because, if anything, it seems they ruined each other.
“I raped you,” Bruce snaps, effectively cutting through Clark’s line of thoughts. “For months.”
For a long moment, all Clark can do is stare, the words sitting incomprehensible between them. His chest is hollow and yet something in there seems adamant to drag him down.
“No, Bruce. You didn’t,” he then says, his voice rough. “You never hurt me.” There was never any violence between them, no bruises, no humiliation. He never even had to hide a hickey. And yet, Bruce says the word rape with such certainty, such loathing, his judgement already made.
“You didn’t think you could say no. What else do you think that is but rape?” Bruce turns around abruptly, pressing one hand against his mouth. He looks small, like the tension in the air would be enough to smother him.
Clark knows he should say something, clear this up, but he does not know how. He is watching Bruce fall apart in front of him but all he can do is stare.
Then Bruce buries his face in his hands. “I can’t stop being Batman. I’ll do whatever else you want, but I can’t give up that. Gotham needs –” he cuts himself off, shrinks, impossibly, even further into himself. “If you insist, I’ll find someone to take over, but I’ll need some time.  I’ll – you won’t have to see me ever again.”
Something is happening here, way too fast for Clark to follow. Bruce bought him, only – he did not? Because being acquainted with a billionaire apparently means that banks get bought just to help each other out.
He was so sure, though. The expectation for something lingered in Bruce’s eyes that day, and he never protested when Clark gave himself over.
“Bruce.” Clark’s mind is spinning too much to make sense of what is happening, but he cannot watch this, cannot watch Bruce damage himself beyond repair. And for what – an apology? Batman has nothing to do with this. “You forgave the loan?”
That is the easiest thing to reach for. Because Bruce did not rape him, did not harm him at all. That first night, Clark might not have come to him voluntarily, but he came willingly. He knew what he was getting into – or he thought he knew – and he still went. And it never mattered that Clark thought he could not refuse because nothing bad ever happened. A few scheduling conflicts, a few fake smiles when he was not in a good mood. But – it was a misunderstanding? Bruce never set out to control him?
Bruce is still turned away, likely as unable to look at Clark as Clark is to look away. “Of course,” he says, raw and honest.
“It’s not –” Clark breathes, then clarifies, “You don’t have to do anything. I definitely don’t want you to stop being Batman. We – I just misunderstood. But nothing happened.”
Months of uncertainty happened. Months of waiting for the punchline. Months of trying to figure out Bruce’s game only to learn that there has never been one.
“Nothing happened?” Bruce whips his head around. His eyes are wide, filled with some grief that Clark cannot even begin to decipher. “If that’s what you think then I’ll definitely make sure you won’t have to see me again.”
For some reason, that last thing stings more than the realization that all of Clark’s fears have been for nothing.
“I’m not a child, Bruce. Don’t treat me like one,” he snaps, not stopping when Bruce flinches away from him. “I might have thought that I didn’t have a choice, but you never did anything I would have said no to.”
A small voice in the back of Clark’s head asks him whether that matters. He would not have said no, not for anything as long as he thought his mother’s happiness was on the line. He pushes that thought down, unable to fully comprehend it, much less deal with it right now.
“Apart from demanding your presence and presuming your consent? I trapped you in a relationship you didn’t want.” Bruce sneers at himself, then deflates. He looks old, suddenly, hollowed out. “God, you must hate me.”
Does he? Clark wonders, even while he already says, “I don’t, aren’t you listening?” It is a painful dichotomy, this sudden anger and the stubborn incomprehension warring in his mind. “If you had asked me before you bought the bank, I would have gladly gone out with you.”
“But I didn’t ask.”
Clark has no argument for that, and while he still searches for one anyway, a sudden wall builds itself up between them.
Bruce’s composure is shattered but he still visibly draws the pieces together. Neither of them has yet reached for any clothes but he still stands as if in full armour. “You have my deepest apologies, Clark,” he says, too formal, too withdrawn, even if Clark does not doubt his sincerity. He has seen the ruin lying beneath Bruce’s mask, after all. “I know that’s not enough, but I promise you will never have to deal with me again. But, whatever you need from me, now or in the future, you will have it.”
What Clark needs is - “Bruce, stop.”
But Bruce does not listen, of course not. His eyes travel over Clark’s face as if to memorize his features and then he turns around, never looking back as he storms out of the room. Out of Clark’s life.
“Bruce.” No answer.
Clark should follow him. Bruce still has to find clothes and he does not have any super speed to aid in his flight. It would be easy and this conversation is not done. And yet, Clark finds himself remaining right where he is. In Bruce’s bed, naked but for the blanket pooling around his waist.
A misunderstanding, he thinks. Relief blossoms in his stomach but it sits there heavily, not quite releasing him. He cannot let Bruce go, not forever, but his mind is not his own right now. His skin still burns where Bruce kissed him just an hour ago and his muscles ache deeply. Soon there will not be any visible traces of their time together left and – Clark needs that. He needs to be his own person for a while.
Slowly, he gets up and puts on his clothes. He will leave town and visit his mother for a while. The living room still needs to be repainted and he is desperate to do something that makes sense.
Later, once he feels at home in his own skin again, he will go to Bruce. He can imagine the maelstrom of thoughts Bruce must battle right now. Guilt and shame and self-deprecation. Knowing him, he will not get out of this on his own but just do his best to bury it, ignoring the way it eats away at the very foundation of his being. Clark cannot let that happen, not when they have both contributed to their misery. He knows Bruce is a good person, knows he never communicates clearly. And yet he assumed the worst and gave in to it.
The living room, first, Clark thinks as he steps out into the sun, feeling its warmth as he has not done in weeks, even if his legs are not quite steady. And then the rest of their lives.
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pastelwitchling · 4 years
Text
Courtesy of @teamalexmanes.
What about a fic that Alex talks to Forrest about Michael (bc maybe someone put him in thoughts?)trying to reassure him it's over and in the past and Forrest reacting cute bc he already knows his relationship with Alex is clear and honest?🥰
Angst. Sad ending for Michael.
***
               Alex had hoped that kissing Forrest at the bar would mark the official end to his relationship with Michael, but he should’ve known by now that he was not that lucky a man.
               It was as if everywhere he went, he felt people’s gazes on him, asking him why he was still with the historian, where the cowboy was. His own friends sometimes looked at Forrest somewhat startled, as if asking, The clock hasn’t run out on you two yet?
               Alex had hoped it was all in his head, but sometimes Michael himself did things that didn’t encourage the best of thoughts. Alex couldn’t count the number of times he and Forrest had been seated in a booth at the Crashdown only to have the cowboy slide in across from them, or – if they were seated across from each other already – next to Alex. Or if they were having drinks at the Wild Pony, Michael always managed to find a stool right next to the airman. Or even if they were spending a night at home, Alex always got a call from Michael about something urgent that was going on that absolutely needed Alex’s help.
               And Alex was sure that Forrest was starting to pick up on it. More than once, he’d felt Forrest’s arm snake possessively around his waist, or he’d suddenly pull Alex in for a kiss in the middle of the bar, or he’d make up an excuse for him with Michael so that date night never had to end and they never had to separate. And Alex loved it. He loved being the center of Forrest’s attention, to be held and kissed so lovingly, but he also couldn’t help but worry. He didn’t want Forrest’s love to come from a place of jealousy, he didn’t want Forrest to feel like he was taking a backseat in their own relationship.
               It was made all the worse one night, when Alex had come into the Crashdown just to pick up their dinner, and found Michael sitting at the counter. Alex decided to pretend he couldn’t see him, but Michael seemed to want to make no such effort.
               “Evening, Private,” he said.
               “I’m just grabbing some to-go, Guerin,” Alex said wearily, which Michael seemed to notice right away.
               “Oh come on, I haven’t said anything yet,” he smirked humorlessly. There was a time when Alex would’ve let himself get hurt just to spare Michael from the same, but Forrest was waiting for him back at home and he would not go back with the cowboy’s taunts in his head.
               “Key word ‘yet,’” Alex sighed, tapping his fingers on the counter. Come on, he silently begged the waitress. Come on, come on, come on.
               “You that afraid of spending time with me?”
               “My boyfriend’s waiting for me,” Alex said mercilessly. “I can’t spend time with you tonight, Guerin.”
               “But you want to,” Michael persisted.
               “Can you please just give it a rest?” Alex said. “I really don’t feel like arguing with you now.”
               “Why are we arguing?” he scoffed. “For Forrest?”
               Alex sighed. “I know you don’t like him –”
               “I like him fine, he’s very nice,” Michael said. “I just thought that by now –”
               “Do not finish that sentence.”
               “He knows it, too,” he went on relentlessly. “He knows that you guys are on a time limit.”
               Alex shook his head. “Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to hurt me?”
               Michael’s expression faltered, darkened, and he stood. As he came to stand next to Alex, he put one hand in his pocket, his other hand coming up to brush Alex’s cheek.
               “I’d rather die than hurt you again, Private,” he said quietly. “I’m doing this because you’re mine. You’ll always be mine, and I’ll always be yours. And sooner or later, we’ll be together again, for good this time. And even if you want to deny that, Forrest knows it. I’m doing this so you’ll be prepared because you’re too selfless to end things, but he won’t be.”
               Michael let his hand fall and he walked out past Alex out the door.
               Alex never took his foot off the gas pedal on his way back to the house. He left the bag of food in the car as he parked and all but stormed out. He came into the living room where Forrest was lying on a couch with Buffy curled at his feet, some romcom playing, and he stopped.
               “Are you going to break up with me?” he demanded, and Forrest looked up, startled.
               “What?”
               “Are you going to break up with me?” Alex repeated and sat beside him. “Are you working up to it? Have you been planning it this whole time?”
               “Alex,” Forrest shook his head as he sat up. “What’re you talking about, what’s going on?”
               “Why does Guerin think you’re going to end things?”
               “Guerin said that? That I was going to break up with you?”
               “I saw him at the Crashdown,” Alex breathed. There was a stitch in his side and his leg ached, but all he cared about right now was Forrest and his dark eyes and his ever-lasting warmth that – according to his so-called cosmic soulmate – would not be lasting much longer.
               “He said that you knew we were on a time limit,” he said. “Are we on a time limit? How come everyone knows that but me?”
               Forrest raised a brow. “We’re not on a time limit, Alex. Who’s saying we’re on a time limit?”
               “Everyone!” Alex blurted. “They’re all so sure Guerin and I are going to end up together, but I don’t want to be with Guerin, I want to be with you!”
               Forrest huffed a chuckle, sitting cross-legged in front of Alex and taking his hands in his own. “Yeah?”
               “Yes!” he said determinedly. “I’m so sick of my life being decided for me, it’s not fair, and it’s not what I want! And you have to know that, Forrest, you have to know that I choose you. I don’t want you to get scared or worry that I’m secretly still in love with Guerin or something –”
               “Well, you are,” Forrest laughed. “You’re in love with Guerin.”
               “I – what?” Alex came up short.
               “Alex, I know,” he said gently. “Hey, look at me. I know. I knew what I was getting myself into with you.”
               Alex clenched his jaw, his eyes burning. “So it’s true? You’re going to break up with me?”
               “No, baby,” Forrest pulled him in against his chest. Alex immediately wrapped his arms around Forrest’s waist, burying his face in the crook of his neck. “No, we’re not breaking up. If you tell me you want to be with me, I believe you.”
               Alex exhaled shakily. “You do?”
               “I know you, Alex, and you’re honest,” Forrest chuckled. “Sometimes painfully so, but I love that about you. Sorry to say, the only way we’re ever going to break up is if you end it. Otherwise, I’m just going to assume you want to be with me forever.”
               Alex hugged him tighter. “And Guerin?” Forrest sighed. “He has a good heart, I swear he does.”
               “I know,” Forrest said. “But he can’t keep getting into your head like he did today, Alex. It’s not okay.”
               “I know, I know,” Alex said miserably. “I just can’t lose you.”
               “You won’t,” Forrest silently promised. “If I have to fight off Michael Guerin to keep you, I will. You’re way too cute to give away to anybody, especially some angry alien cowboy.”
               Alex nuzzled Forrest’s neck. “I wouldn’t want to go anywhere anyway.”
               “Then relax,” he whispered into Alex’s hair, his hand going up and down Alex’s spine. “I’m with you. Till the end of the line. I’m with you.”
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jeonchan26 · 4 years
Text
Love Me Not (Part 2)
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Theme; Angst...Very Angst.
Warnings; Heartbreak, Saddness. Super Low Self-Esteem. Abuse & Toxic Relationship. Mention of sex.
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“Congratulations you have been accepted to attended the University of Seoul. We cannot wait to see you and become part of our campus.”
You looked down at the paper in your hand. You couldn’t believe it you got accepted into the biggest university in Korea. You remember you were so excited to tell Jimin about your application but now you couldn’t share the happiest moment. You felt proud of yourself it was hard to get into the school but you manage to get accepted. Maybe this was your new beginning to be happy.
The day had finally arrived and you got ready for your first day at school. You were excited and nervous but mostly happy. You made your way around the campus trying to figure out your schedule. When somebody bump into you.
“Seriously you again!” You remember that voice like it was just yesterday it was screaming at you at the park.
“I’m sorry but you bumped into me” you told him in a quite voice. “Did I fucking ask you?” He stepped closer to you.
You looked down at your hands scared to say anything else. You didn’t want a repeat of last time.
“You know you still owe me for ruining my jacket last time” He was standing so close to you that you could feel his breath on your face.
“I’ll pay you for the dry cleaning” you tried stepping away but we’re stuck between the wall and his body.
“Nah, I have a better way for you to pay me. You know your not that bad looking when your not cover in coffee. From now on you’re my girl, got it. You do everything I tell you to do. If you don’t then I guess they would be some consequences” he told you feeling his hands on your waist.
“I’m sorry but I just got out of a relationship and I’m not ready for another one. I can pay you instead.” This guy had danger all over his face, he didn’t give you a good vibe. And besides that a relationship was the last thing you wanted at the moment. Moving on from Jimin wasn’t easy, he was your longest relationship somebody that showed you that happily ever after did exist. Maybe not for you but for everybody else.
“I don’t give a fuck what you want. I’m the head of the school, you wouldn’t want people to start talking about you. Would you?” He asked you with a smirk on his face.
The last thing you wanted was drama, you just wanted to lay low, finish your first year and be able to move on with your life. He wasn’t kidding you know he would make your life living hell. Maybe this can help you move on from Jimin. I mean he did move on from you rather quickly and this might not be the ideal relationship but it was something.
You were desperate to stop hurting, to stop yearning for Jimin to come back and tell you he loves you. You were tired of crying yourself to sleep at night because all you could think about was how Jimin was kissing and doing everything he did with you with her.
“Okay” You whispered.
“Glad we are on the same page baby” he said letting you go. You could breath again.
You walked towards your locker pulling your books out for your class when you looked to your right and saw the girl that was dating Jimin.
“What is she doing here?” You asked yourself.
She looked up at you and smile. “Hello Im Yuri, nice to meet you! Are you new here?” She asked you smiling at you so kindly.
“Umm yea today is my first day.”
“Oh goodie. You’re gonna love it. This is my last year.” She told you closing her locker giving you her ful attention.
“Oh really? What are you studying for?” You asked curiously.
“Business. I’m actually an intern at BigHit just started working there a few months ago.” There it was you knew it was her Jimin was dating. You gave her a fake smile and closed your locker saying goodbye to her making you way to class. Your first day and you already hate it.
School was finally over and you were at your locker when someone slam their body next your locker. “Hey baby” you heard Jake say give you a kiss on the cheek.
You felt yourself crinch a the feeling, it was nothing compare to Jimin’s kisses. “Stop thinking about him” you mentally smacked yourself.
“Let’s go the boys are waiting and I hate being late” he said closing your locker before you could finish and pulling you away rather harshly.
You saw Yuri talking on the phone, while having a huge smile on her face. You saw her jump from joy and that’s when you saw him. Waiting for her at the end of the gate. He looked so happy to see her. You felt your heart breaking you didn’t think it could break anymore than it already was. You missed him terribly and seeing him happy was just so heartbreaking.
“Hey stupid! I’m talking to you!” You heard Jake said smacking you on the head.
“I’m sorry. I was lost in thought”
“I honestly don’t know what could you possible be thinking about. You seem pretty stupid to me” Jake didn’t care about your feelings and to be honest with everything going on you felt like you deserved it for not being good enough. This is the only type of relationship you deserved to be in.
You couldn’t stop looking at Jimin and Yuri. You had to admit they were perfect for each other. Yuri was beautiful from head to toe, she was kind and had a wonderful personality. She was the perfect fit for Jimin. You loved everything about Jimin. Jimin was a whole package deal, he had an amazing personality, the cutest smile, he was drop dead handsome. He was an amazing dancer and singer. You couldn’t think of anything wrong with him. He was perfect and you could tell so was Yuri.
When you started dating Jimin it surprised you that a guy like him would even give you a chance. You were so normal so boring, why would he would give you the time of day. But Jimin proved to you that you were enough even if at the end you ended up getting hurt. You sigh getting pulled out of your thoughts when Jake and his friends laughed about something you were clearly not paying attention too. But their loud laughs grabbed the attention of the people walking by even Jimin.
You quickly looked away when you saw Jimin give you a confused look. “Hey babe, lets get out of here. What do you say we go back to your place?” Jake said pulling you harshly by your wrist. You could already feel a bruise coming.
“Oh umm maybe another time. I have tons of homework and I want to get it done before tomorrow” You lied. You didn’t want to risk being alone with him.
���Oh come on baby! Maybe I can help you with some of that homework.”
“No really It’s okay.” You said trying to get out of his hold.
“Maybe you didn’t understand what I’m trying to say. But I’m coming over to help you with your homework” Jake said with through his gritted teeth.
“Oh okay” you felt the pain in your wrist. Trying to mask the pain but failed miserably. Jake said goodbye to his friends and start walking towards his car you following like a lost puppy behind him.
You noticed Jimin was still staring at you, you quickly looked down at your feet and walked faster.
Jimin recognized the guy, he couldn’t forget the face of the low life who dare put hands on a woman, nether less you. But his couldn’t stop thinking why you were with him in the first place. He was pulled out of his thought when Yuri called out for him starting to walk away towards his car but not before sparing you a second glance. You face had some many emotions but the one that stood out the most was sadness.
You were back in your apartment, instead of doing homework Jake had other plans. You were in the shower trying to scrub off his scent, his touch everything out of your body. He was nowhere near as gentle as Jimin. Jimin was soft and gentle unless you wanted otherwise while Jake was rough and only care about himself not giving you the attention your body needed.
After what felt like hours your got out of the shower and just threw on one of Jimin’s old shirt that he left behind. It still smelled like him, hugging yourself feeling safe.
You stared at the wall infront of you wondering what you did to deserve this. Why couldn’t you be happy? You kept thinking of everything that was wrong with you. That is why Jimin left you.
That was all that was going through your mind.
The doorbell went off pulling you out of your thoughts. Walking rather slowly towards the door you opened it not bothering to ask who it was. What else could go wrong that night.
You were shocked to see a very out of breath Jimin on the other side of the door.
“Jimin what are you doing here?” You questioned.
Jimin took a while to answer you taking in how you looked. He noticed the bruises on your neck and your arms. He felt angry but only because he still cared about you... right?
“Can I come in?”
“Oh umm sure.” You moved away from the door to let him in closing it behind him. Making your way towards the living room. Sitting down on the couch him following your steps. This brought you back memories and not the good ones.
“Why are you here?” You asked.
“Why were you with that guy? Wasn’t he the same guy you bumped into at the park?” Jimin asked giving you a confused look.
“Oh jake? Yea he is umm my boyfriend?” You said looking down at your hands to scared to see Jimin’a reaction.
“Im sorry Your what?” He almost yelled.
Part 3 coming soon🦋
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yikeswtfmate · 4 years
Text
Meet me in the Hallway
Summary: Y/N and Bucky have hated each other since they were children and now they’re forced to live together, whether they like it or not.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 
Warnings: swearing; sexual themes
A/N: ...and they were roommates! I’m not going to pass up a chance of putting my spin on this trope, come on, I’m weak! Full disclosure: I was so excited about this idea that I’ve just spent the last 4 hours writing it without pause
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Bucky sometimes wants to punch Steve in the face. Either that, or maybe punch himself in the face just to save himself from having to live with the two Rogers cousins one more day. He doesn’t mind Steve. After years of living together through college he’s used to all of his habits, including those that are borderline neurotic – like how all the plates have to be stacked according to colour, and not just dump them one over the other. He does mind Y/N, however, although he’s known her for just as much time he’s known his best friend. The only problem is that, where he can forgive any of Steve’s misgivings, Y/N just simply pisses him off. So when Steve came home one day and announced without any kind of heads up that Y/N will be moving in the spare bedroom that they’ve been using as an office of sorts until now, his first thought was to bang his head against the wall until he’d lose consciousness.
Steve was suspiciously silent when Bucky tried to get something more out of him, like ‘why’ or ‘I thought she was living with her boyfriend’ and ‘buy why, Steve’ and even ‘can’t you just send her to stay with Sam and let me live in peace.’
“Just for this year, until she’s done with her residency.” Is all that Steve offers as an explanation.
It was many months later, when Steve was staying over at Peggy’s, when Bucky found Y/N home crying her eyes out when he got all the answers. Apparently, her boyfriend of 4 years was cheating on her (“Didn’t I tell you from the start that he’s a fucking idiot?” which earned him a scowl) so she had to move out from their shared apartment (“I’ve left all my books there, Bucky, I’ve been collecting those books for ever and the asshole just threw them out the next day!” which earned her a shake of his head). She knew from the start that she won’t be able to afford living by herself (“Do you know how much rent is in New York? God fucking dammit, some days I just wanted to stab my eyes with the scalpels” which earned her a nod of agreement) and going back to her parents was definitely not on the table (“I’d actually stab myself to death with those scalpels than having to live with my parents ever again” which earned her a smack over her head), so she had to ask Steve, “the only functioning human being I actually know who’s our age” if he’ll take her in “like a fucking baby.”
They ended up finishing an entire bottle of whiskey that night and the next morning Y/N was sleeping in his bed, her naked skin barely covered by his blanket. Bucky’s first reaction was to let out an incredulous groan, unable to process his reasoning for sleeping with her. As great as the sex had been, they were never a fan of each other, ever since Bucky used to pull her hair and push her in the sand when they were 8. Growing older, that dislike slowly shifted to pure hatred, and those months that they’ve been living under the same roof were proof that they would most likely murder each other before seeing eye to eye on literally anything.
So Bucky hauled his ass out of the apartment as soon as possible, hoping to all that’s mighty she would just take the hint and get the hell out of his bed by the time he’d come back home. Thankfully she did, and they didn’t speak a word of that night until it happened again a month later when Y/N nearly knocked his door down one night because his music wouldn’t let her sleep. The next time it happened, Bucky crawled into her bed at midnight after a particularly bad date, without giving it much thought. After that, it just became routine that they’d find themselves in the other’s bed whenever there would be a bad day at work, lack of sleep, a heated fight that neither wanted to lose, once even just because Bucky came back from the gym all sweaty and annoyed, and two times because she would insist on walking around the apartment in the tiniest shorts that he’d ever seen in his entire goddamn life. Neither of them wanted to think too much about it, justifying it as a means to an end, and as much as they would be attracted to each other, Bucky once famously said that he’d rather marry Sam than bury the hatchet with Y/N, just because “she’s so fucking annoying!”
*
“Where is that dunce anyway?” Y/N asks. “I thought he said he wanted to see this movie as well.”
She hands Steve a bottle of beer and takes her seat on the sofa. Peggy raises an eyebrow in a silent question that Y/N chooses to ignore, and Steve shrugs before popping some popcorn in his mouth.
“Said he had a date.”
Y/N can’t help gritting her teeth in annoyance. She absolutely refuses to think of Bucky as more than an easy lay, but she is human after all, and she’d rather him have a love life as miserable as hers. It’s not fair he gets to try his luck at finding the love of his life, while he’s getting his fix with her whenever he pleases in the meantime.
Steve nudges her shin with his foot from over his armchair, startling her out of her thoughts. Looking up at him, she notices the worry on his face. This boy knows her too well for her to have a semblance of privacy, goddammit. It’s a miracle he hasn’t figured out what’s been going on behind his back, although she has a feeling that’s just because Peggy is too much of an angel to shed some light on the situation.
“What’s wrong?” He demands.
“Nothing. Let’s just watch the stupid movie.” Y/N mutters.
“Nuh-uh.” Steve insists. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Y/N sighs and although Peggy tries to divert his attention, she knows there’s no way in hell she’ll get out of it now. He watches her determinedly, waiting for an honest answer. He’s not stupid and he’s noticed something’s been different with the dynamic between his cousin and his best friend lately. He’s seen how tense Y/N gets whenever Bucky touches her waist when he passes her, which is weird in and of itself considering they would flat out refuse to be in the same room together at first. He can also distinctly remember Y/N wearing one of Bucky’s sweaters when he found her asleep in front of the tv one night. Then it suddenly clicks.
“You’ve been sleeping together!” He shouts accusingly.
Y/N’s eyes widen in shock and she is suddenly feeling very warm. Peggy sighs and mutters something that sounds oddly like “no shit, Sherlock” under her breath. Steve crosses his arms, but his expression turns from incredulous to worried again.
“Oh shit, you’ve been sleeping together.” Then onwards to furious: “And the asshole is on a date right now?” And then wary: “Are you ok with this?” And finally confused: “Why are you ok with this?”
“Look, Stevie.” Y/N starts with a sigh. “It’s not like I have a choice. We’ve never talked about us being more than…fuck buddies, I guess you’d call it.” She says irritated. “We’re fine like this, we both get what we want out of it without any kind of responsibility. It’s neither here nor there if I’m ok with it in the end because Bucky hates me.”
“Y/N, we’ve talked about this.” Peggy tries but she’s cut off with a shake of the head.
“No, Peg. I know he does. Steve can tell you. He’s hated me ever since we were children. To be fair, I couldn’t stand him either, but now I just…” There’s a split second of silence before Y/N’s eyes seem to bulge out of her skull. She plants her hands on either side of her face and shakes her head as if trying to pry the thought out of her head. “Fuck.”
Peggy scoots closer and puts her arm over Y/N’s shoulders. “Oh, Y/N.” She says with a sympathetic smile.
“This is a mess. I’m going to call him and tell him to come home.” Steve announces, his phone already in his hand.
“Don’t, Steve. He doesn’t owe me anything. I’ve never asked anything more of him and he never offered. Just leave it at that. I’ll get over it. Don’t worry about me.” She gets up and hands Peggy the bowl of popcorn she was holding. “I’m tired. I’m just going to call it a night if you don’t mind. I’ll see you tomorrow at work, Peg.” She makes her way to her room in silence, but they both notice the tears that start to form in her eyes.
Steve turns to his girlfriend, his face still trying to decide between worry and anger. “I’m going to kill Bucky.”
“No, you won’t, sweetheart. They’re adults and this is their problem. They have to sort it out themselves.”
*
The next morning Bucky is woken up by what must be the entire population of velociraptors brought back to life in the living room. He looks at his phone, which mockingly informs him that it’s only 3:57 am. He tries going back to sleep, but he finds it nearly impossible now that mammoths apparently joined the dinosaurs.
He groans and gets out of the bed, ready to unleash hell on whoever decided it’s a great idea to wake him up at fuck o’clock on a Saturday. He can barely distinguish Y/N’s form in the shadows of the hallways, throwing a big lump of…something over her shoulder as she rummages through the shoe rack.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He demands.
“Looking for my running shoes.” She replies deadpan. “I left them here yesterday but someone thought they should just bury them with their own shit.”
“Why the fuck are you going for a run now?”
“I always go for a run in the morning.” She seems to have found one of the shoes and proceeds to throw a boot over her head, barely missing Bucky’s arm in the process.
“It’s 4 o’clock. You usually go for a run at 6. Why are you running at 4?! It’s still dark outside! You can’t go running now, who knows who the fuck is out there.”
“Well, I couldn’t sleep so might as well be productive.” She shrugs.
“Y/N, come back to bed. You don’t have to be up for another 2 hours. Come on.” Bucky slides a hand around her waist, making her stand straight, her back to his chest. “I can make you go to sleep, baby.” He whispers in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
“No, Bucky.” She disentangles from his embrace and tries to push him away with a shove that is too weak to be believable. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“Can’t do what? Sleep?” Bucky laughs and has another try at grabbing her, but she just backs up from him until she hits the sofa, sitting down with a sigh.
“No, Bucky. I can’t do this.” Y/N shakes her hand in the space between them, and Bucky is suddenly wide awake, although refusing to understand what she’s trying to say.
“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore? Did you find someone else? Do I not make you feel good anymore?” He demands.
“It doesn’t matter.” She mutters.
“What the fuck are you talking about? Of course, it matters!” A small voice in his head draws his attention to the fact that he’s now shouting, but he can’t really bring himself to give a shit if he wakes up Steve or their neighbours at this point. “Did you find someone else? Is that it?”
“No, Bucky, I didn’t find anyone else, you fucking asshole.” Y/N spits, already fed up with having to justify herself for the past few days. “I can’t do this anymore because I can’t find someone else. And you wanna know why? Because there’s always someone in the back of my head who I keep coming back to, whatever the fuck I’m doing. The whole cheating shit with my ex? It was because I couldn’t give him what he needed, I couldn’t love him the way I should’ve because there was always this fucking idiot in the back of my head pulling my fucking hair and I’ve now just realised it. And you know what the best part is?” There are tears streaming down Y/N’s face and Bucky can’t do anything more than watch her, confused and suddenly jealous of this guy she’s going on about.
“The best part is that I thought I hated you. I thought you were the bane of my fucking existence, just to have it turn out I didn’t hate you at all. I’ve been in love with you my whole entire fucking life. It’s you, Bucky. It has always been you.”
Y/N can’t move, all she can do is watch how the sunrise light starts pooling in the living room. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears, blood draining from her face, as Bucky just stands there, as catatonic as she is. There’s a grunt and suddenly Bucky is kneeling between her legs, his arms circling her body. He presses a kiss to the side of her left knee and then one to the inside of her wrist. He’s never been this delicate, fingers dancing on the small of her back, his hair falling in his eyes as he looks up at her.
“I’ve never loved anyone more than I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realise it.” He whispers.
Y/N leans down to place a soft kiss to his lips, as his hands come up to hold her wet cheeks. So this is what this all meant, he thinks, pressing his forehead to hers.
In the other room, Steve closes the door silently and climbs back to bed with a huff.
“Fucking idiots.” He mutters in Peggy’s hair.
“Told you they’ll come around.”
***
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itawonka-creates · 5 years
Text
Seabourne Burnouts: Part 7 - Wading
Start [here] or read [Part 6] [Part 8]
Marinette couldn’t sleep despite trying desperately to. She looked over Alya and Chloe sleeping on either side of her, they refused to leave her after what happened. She doesn’t know how much time has passed since getting to the room, if she was honest she doesn’t even know what time it was when she got to bed, and it made her frustrated. She carefully sat up and got out of bed, careful not to disturb her friends. She walked over to the bathroom, locking the door behind her and leaning against the wooden door.
“Marinette?” She looked over at Tikki and frowned. “Marinette-”
“I know, I know. I made a dumb decision.” She sighed and walked over to the bathtub and ran some water, keeping it at a nice warm temperature. “I’m sorry I put you through that.”
“Marinette, no. What I wanted to say was I’m sorry for not being of more use to you. Unless you become Ladybug, I can’t do a lot unless I reveal myself.” Tikki flew over to her holder and gently rubbed circles on her cheek, “Marinette, I’m sorry this happened.”
Marinette bit her lip and watched as the water began to rise slowly in the tub. “Tikki, am I a good Ladybug?”
“What? Why wouldn’t you be? You’re one of the best!” Tikki flew around to look Marinette in the eye, “Marinette, you’re a natural-born hero! Did you even see how well you handled the situation and how clever your plan was? You are a true Ladybug and I couldn’t be prouder!” Marinette gave Tikki a weak smile and just nodded. She snuck outside to get herself some warmer pajamas to change into and brought them back with her to the bathroom. Tikki knew what was going on, Marinette was starting to lock away her emotions. A common occurrence nowadays and a preventative measure to keep from becoming akumatized, but Tikki knew humans. Humans needed to be expressive and emotional to heal from their traumas. Locking her feelings away like this only left her with a robotic and cold Ladybug. “You know we aren’t in Paris, Marinette.”
“I know.” Marinette knew, she really did, but she couldn’t help it. Her feelings were just being pushed down and it’s become an impulse rather than something she actively and intentionally tries to do. She stripped herself down and sat in the warm water. She noted different things around her. The first was the tub, very expensive looking and deep. She looked around and noted the tile patterns and marble that were scattered around the room. She looked over at the mirror and decided she liked the way the lights were placed around the outer border. She watched the water and sat there waiting for it to get high enough to where her body could be comfortably submerged.
Marinette paid attention to more details around her to distract her from the fact that the warm waters did nothing now that she was like this. Despite the way her scalp hurt from having her hair pulled, she decided she liked the shampoo and conditioner they provided to her and used them liberally. She decided she liked the smell of the body wash she used. She stuck her head underwater to wash her hair and for a brief second that moment she hit the water when she was thrown overboard flashed in her mind. She sat up, most likely causing some of the water to splash out and tried to keep her breathing steady. Four counts in. Four counts hold. Four counts out. Tikki patted the girl’s head, making sure to remind the girl she wasn’t alone. Marinette took a moment to just sit there in the suds to just exist. No feelings, no thinking, just exist with the sensation of the warm water. She couldn’t tell if was helping anymore, she didn’t know if she was cold or not anymore. She sighed and pulled out the bath’s plug. Getting out, drying off, and changing into new pajamas was mechanical and she didn’t think about it. She didn’t think about anything and she didn’t want to.
She put away her towels and dirty clothes and grabbed a spare blanket from the dresser they provided. She held her arm out for Tikki to fly in and hide. She looked over at her two friends one last time and made sure to not wake them as she left. Marinette wandered for a bit, her mind not really present but her body moving towards something. She noted the authorities that were walking around. She watched as they moved around the yellow tape to look into the room that were bombed. She held no expression, even when authorities would ask her questions about why she was wandering around the ship so late. Marinette made her way towards the main deck and heard someone talking.
“What do you mean they disappeared? No, that makes no sense. There’s no reason for that to happen, they don’t have powers!” Marinette could hear the frustration in Dick’s voice and she walked closer to the source of the yelling. “Okay, but those kids belong to one of our staff members. Even the gun?” Dick groaned and ran his hand through his hair, “Please, give whatever footage you have to Batman to review.” He turned and noticed Marinette standing in the doorway watching him talk on the phone. “I’ll call back later. Just bring back the kids and bring Batman the footage. Bye.”
Dick tapped the ‘End Call’ button and walked over to the girl, “Hey, Marinette.” Dick immediately noted the lack of expression, it was creepy. He felt like he was talking to a doll, “Marinette, how are you feeling?” Marinette shrugged under her blanket and held steady eye contact. Dick knew what was happening, he’s been guilty of it a few times. Sometimes the mind can’t handle everything at once and locks it all up, the first time it happened was after his parents died but before Bruce took him in. The uncertainty and grief were too much and he just locked it away. Bruce helped with that, taking care of all his basic needs so he could focus on the emotional stuff. Being Robin helped him find closure and he was always grateful for that. Marinette didn’t have that. Dick sighed and just asked, “Do you want a hug?”
Marinette nodded and pushed herself into his arms. She held on tight and he squeezed her, trying his best to comfort the small girl. That was the weirdest thing for him to notice, her size. During the dinner, her personality was big and when she took charge her presence knew no bounds. Dick forgot how small Marinette actually was and that made him even madder for what she was put through. This was her night and they ruined it. “Marinette, do you want to talk about it?” Marinette shook her head no, “Do you want to sit down? I can keep hugging you, but bending down like this will hurt my back.” Marinette pulled away almost immediately and nodded. She looked a bit concerned, that was good. Dick walked her over to a lounge chair in a nearby sitting area and sat down, patting the spot beside him.
Marinette took her seat and leaned against Dick’s arm, prompting him to put it around her and hold her. Marinette closed her eyes and Dick noted the bags under her eyes. “You didn’t sleep, did you?”
Marinette shook her head and sighed. A small voice answered, “No.”
“Hey, I got a word out of you.” Dick sent her a small smile and she gave a polite one back. “I can’t imagine what that was like. You’ve been through a lot today. But I do know what you’re doing right now, the whole emotion thing.” Marinette buried herself more into her blanket and Dick’s side, but she didn’t tell him to stop talking. “I can’t relate to what you’ve been through, but I can relate to what you’re feeling.” Dick thought back to that time in his childhood, “It’s hard. It’s really hard because there’s just so much you feel that your brain tells you it’s safer not to feel altogether. But it only helps for a little bit, keeping you functioning until you find a time to go through those feelings.” Dick looked down at Marinette and noticed he had her full attention. “I’m a good listener, Marinette. If you want, we can go through some of it right now.”
Marinette couldn’t believe it, he hit the nail on the head. Hearing him describe what was happening inside her head so well really did it for her. She tried, she tried not to cry anymore. She tore her eyes away from Dick’s and clutched onto the blanket in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, but failed miserably. The first few tears hit the blanket and after seeing them absorb into the cotton, she found herself in a full-on crying fit. Dick just held her close, letting her bury her face in his shirt as she let it out. Dick rubbed calmly circles on her back and just bit his lip. This shouldn’t be happening, he should be watching her happily roaming the ship with his little brother following her around like a puppy. He should not be comforting her through an emotional breakdown after a traumatic event on what was supposed to be a joyful day. Dick gritted his teeth and made a personal vow to maim whoever let those pirates escape the holding cells.
Marinette could feel her mind and her heart having a battle inside her. Her mind yelled at her to stop, that she didn’t know this person well enough to be showing this side of her and that she needed to keep herself in check. However, her heart pleaded for release. Not just for today’s events, but for everything that led up to this. The frustration, the loneliness, the exhaustion, the sadness, everything. Dick didn’t judge, nor did he ever make a move to stop her, he just sat there and offered to be present.
Dick was snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed someone moving in his peripheral vision. He slowly turned his head in order not to alarm the crying girl and noticed Jason standing there looking shocked. He obviously didn’t mean to walk in on this, Jason was probably just looking for him to tell him something, but now he was stuck. Dick watched different emotions pass through Jason’s face; shock, panic, heartbreak, anger, and finally guilt. Dick didn’t want to stop Marinette, she clearly needed this, so instead he mouthed, “Close the door.” Jason hesitated for a second before quietly moving out of the room and closing the door. Dick knew he was no doubt going to tell the others, every one of them was going to go through the same emotional process he just did. This wasn’t like the other time when Damian upset her and they saw her crying in a hallway. She was mad, frustrated, and understandably so after Damian pushed her buttons. That made him mad at his brother. This? This was a floodgate of everything she was feeling for god knows how long. This made him heartbroken and absolutely pissed.
Marinette’s sobs eventually died down and she finally pulled away, wiping her eyes. She looked him over and gave a small laugh, “I ruined your shirt.” She sniffed and he looked down and, sure enough, the shirt was soaked in tears and snot.  
Dick shrugged, “Not like it’s my favorite. It’s just a t-shirt.”
Her voice sounded nasally from her nose being stuffed, “I can make you a new shirt.”
“I’ll buy you everything you need to do so.”
“Wouldn’t that be like buying a new shirt at a store?”
“No way. Not when I’m getting it custom made. I like blue and black or red and black.”
She snorted, “I like red and black too.” She stood up and wiped at her eyes again, “Oh my god, what time is it?”
“Late.”
“How late?”
“Don’t ask.” Dick yawned and stretched as if to emphasize the fact and Marinette nodded. “Are you tired yet?”
“No, not yet.”
“You look dead.”
“Oh thanks, I think the dark circles and puffy pink eyes really complement each other.” Dick laughed and stood up to give her one last hug. She wrapped her arms around him, “I’m sorry for that.”
“Don’t be.” He held her at arm’s length and looked her over one last time, “Why not go to the arcade and play some games. It could help the time pass until you do get tired.”
“What about the explosions?”
“They blew up individual rooms but nothing too damaging. It’s weird, they felt and sounded bigger than they actually were.” Marinette nodded and he ruffled her hair a bit before pushing her in the direction of the game room. “Now go. Immerse yourself, beat some high scores, make sure Tim knows you beat those high scores because they’re all his and it’ll drive him nuts.”
She laughed, “I’m going. I’m going.” She began walking before turning back, “Thank you, Richard.”
“No problem, Marinette.”
She smiled and ran down the halls to the arcade, noting that this one was probably the biggest on the ship. She walked around and looked at the machines, not knowing where to start before hearing music playing in the background. It wasn’t like the normal arcade soundtracks, it was an actual song. She wandered closer to the source and found herself watching a certain Wayne playing a dancing game. The game looked different, but had the same premise of the ones she would play at Alya’s house. Hitting the arrows, in this case the symbols, as they appear on the screen to the music and rack up points. It was always fun watching Alya and Nino play, they added so much flair to their dances, but Damian was different. He was so concentrated on the screen and he didn’t add any unnecessary movements, working only towards efficiency. She watched him miss no beats and the score count got higher and higher until he set a new record at the end of the song. He leaned back on the bar behind him and jumped when Marinette clapped.
“You’re really good at that game. I’ll admit I didn’t take you for a dancer.”
He looked her over and shrugged, “I’m not. This game helps me concentrate and keeps me agile.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.” He watched her curiously as she made her way over on stage with him. She started to tease him, “Damian likes dancing games.”
“I do not.”
“Uh-huh, that’s why your name is all over this game’s leader board.” She pointed at the screen and sure enough ‘DAM’ was all over the board. He frowned and she grinned. “You like it.”
“So I enjoy this game? So what?”
“Nothing! Nothing!” She turned and opened her blanket a bit, letting Tikki know she was taking it off so she could find somewhere to hide, before putting it down neatly beside the stage. “I really like this game too.”
Damian raised an eyebrow at her, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, are you challenging me?”
“You said it not me.” Damian smirked, “What?”
“You’re going to lose.”
Marinette scoffed, “We’ll see.” Marinette went through the library of songs and noticed one that seemed to be cleared on every level, “I didn’t take you for a K-Pop fan.”
“I’m not. That was the first song I ever played on this game. It was at a carnival with some of my teammates and one of them was getting too cocky.” Damian thought back to that night and how great he felt beating Beast Boy at his own game. “Dethroned him real quick.”
“Then let’s do that one.” She pressed the button and the screen started its count down.
“Are you sure? It’s my best song.”
“I just want to see if I can keep up. If I beat you in the process then that’s just a bonus.” Damian rolled his eyes and honed on the screen as that music started to play. Marinette knew she wasn’t in the right mindset to be playing this, she was tired and had just finished crying, but she couldn’t help it. Her competitive nature got the better of her and her small desire to know Damian a bit better was satisfied with this new information. The arrows were replaced with a crescent moon facing downward, a lightning bolt, a circle, and a star and the song ‘Crazzee Boi’ filled her ears. She struggled and found herself not being able to keep up.
“Just concentrate.” She didn’t look over, keeping her eyes trained on the screen, but listened all the same. “Don’t think about what’s going on around you, just focus on the screen and focus on what’s coming next. There’s too many things happening at once for you to train your eyes on the stuff that’s hitting you in the moment. Focus on what you need to do next to continue moving forward.” She gulped and took a deep breath before honing in on the screen in front of her. She did what he told her to do and moved her eyed away from the action line and more towards the bottom half of the screen to see what was coming up. Soon enough, she felt a change in her body and she was moving to the beat of the music in a way she never could before.
If anyone were to look in, they’d see two teens on top of a dancing machine moving almost in sync to each other and the music. There were some differences, Damian’s motions were precise and efficient while Marinette’s were fluid and she added the tiniest bits of flair when she could. Still, they complimented each other, moving to the same beat and making the same moves. Marinette wouldn’t have noticed being so focused on the game, but Damian knew this song almost as well as he knew his brothers’ weaknesses. He could look away without penalty and he did, making sure to steal glances to watch the girl beside him. Admiring her concentration, determination, and the competitive shimmer in her eye.
The song was coming to a close and with one final jump, the song finished and the two waited with baited breath to see the winner. The game ultimately gave Damian the winner, but only by a few hundred points. “You did well.”
“Thanks, not bad for my first time on this machine.”
“Not bad at all.” The two laughed and in the glow of the congratulations screen he finally noticed her face. He noticed the slight hint of pink and the puffiness that had yet to go down. Damian decided she came for the same reason he did, he couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t escape his own thoughts. “Do you want to play some more games?” She nodded and grabbed her blanket as they made their way through the arcade. Trying every console at least once and winning prizes where they could. The two started to yawn and feel tired, Marinette laughed at Damian for actually being human enough to get tired. “Why is that so surprising?”
“It’s not. It’s just that your brothers always make fun of you for doing normal stuff. I figured this was appropriate.”
Damian rolled his eyes, “You catch on quickly.”
Marinette giggled, “I try.” The two continued to drag their feet the more tired they got until they finally went into a shooting game. The game had a bench and curtain to block out the outside lights and sounds to immerse the players in the game. Despite it being a shooter game with loud noises and flashing lights, Marinette felt herself nod off leaning against her gaming partner.
Damian yawned, “You’re making us lose.”
She shook her head, “You can do it.”
Damian tried, but ended up dying in the game due to lack of focus. He looked at the girl leaning next to him and tried to nudge her awake, but it didn’t help. One more yawn had him leaning against her and closing his eyes, unable to fight it anymore. The two nodded off in the arcade, cut off from the rest of the boat by a curtain and lulled to sleep by the sounds of gunshots from the game.
“Told you they were here.”
“They look so cute.”
“Yeah, but when she wakes up I will kick her butt for scaring me.”
“Oh come on, look at them. You can’t tell me this isn’t cute.”
“Sure, cute, but that doesn’t negate the fact that I wasted my precious time looking for her.”
“Chloe, hush!”
Damian groaned and tried to stretch, but felt a weight pressed against his chest. “Oh no, he’s waking up.”
“Quick, start recording!”
Damian rubbed his eyes and cracked one open, the first thing he noticed was Marinette sleeping on his chest and her blanket covering them. “Huh?” The second thing he noticed were the eyes. He looked around and saw his brothers and Marinette’s friends, one of which he didn’t recognize, looking past the curtains and watching them. Lastly, he noticed both Alya and Jason recording. He frowned and tried to sit up, his back hurting from the awkward sleeping place. “Can someone get her off of me?”
Jason shrugged, “I don’t know man, she looks pretty comfortable.”
Adrien snorted, “Besides, you don’t want to be the one to wake up Marinette before she’s ready. She gets hissy.”
The small pink-haired girl snickered, “Oh my god, didn’t she almost scratch you for trying to wake her up that one time?”
Tim grinned, “Oh perfect, those two are basically cats then. Just feed them, play with them, let them sleep, and then you’re golden.”
Chloe huffed, “Well, looking for her wasted our morning and she has to pay for that.”
Dick laughed, “Damian, it’s almost 1 in the afternoon.”
Damian groaned, “Grayson, that’s not funny.”
Tim rolled his eyes, “No. You know what isn’t funny? Us getting a frantic call from Alya that Marinette went missing and then you couldn’t be reached no matter what we did. Then Alix here came over to all of us panicking and told us you were sleeping here.” He crossed his arms and mimicked Chloe, “She’s right. You owe us.”
Alya shrugged, “I don’t know. Having this kind of dirt on them is great. Also, it’d be great to play this on their wedding day.”
Jason raised his hand, “We could sell it to Lois and Clark! Exclusive! ‘Demon Spawn Feels’! Or ‘Demon Spawn Finds Love’!”
Damian glared at Jason, “You’ll find your guns in the Gotham harbor if you even try to do that, Todd.” Damian suddenly felt a hand slap onto his mouth, “What?”
Marinette pressed her hand down harder and mumbled, “Still sleeping, shhhhh.”
Damian didn’t know how to respond while everyone else bit their lips to keep from laughing. Damian rolled his eyes before moving Marinette’s hand away, “Marinette, wake up.”
Marinette groaned and buried her face in the blanket, “No.”
Damian thought for a moment before getting an idea, “Marinette, my father is right next to us and wants to talk to you.” Marinette shot straight up and hit her head against the top of the machine’s pod, immediately sitting down and groaning. Damian sat up and grabbed her head gently, “Well, good news. No bleeding. You’ll live.”
Marinette pulled away and rubbed her head, “Wow, thanks.” She looked around and finally took in everything around her. “Please tell me you haven’t been recording this whole time.”
Alya shrugged, “Not the whole time, just most of the time.” She laughed, “Serves you right for sneaking out last night.”
Marinette wrapped herself in her blanker again and leaned back, “Do I have to get up?”
Adrien looked at Nino and then back to Marinette, “Marinette it’s almost one.”
“What?”
Alix shook her head, “The other girls will be dying to hear about this.”
Jason chuckled, “Plus, Bruce has been looking for you two since 11.”
In unison, the two yelled, “WHAT?”
The two bolted out of their respective sides and ran towards their rooms, leaving behind a group laughing and shaking their heads.
Jason looked over at Alya, “When do you think it’ll happen?”
Alya hummed, “I’m not sure. When she liked Adrien, she couldn’t even think straight. With Damian it’s different, she actually holds a conversation with him and teases him back.”
Adrien spoke up, “Wait, she liked me?”
Alix looked over and raised an eyebrow at Adrien, “Dude, she liked you for years.”
“YEARS?”
Chloe smiled, “You always were a bit dense, Adrikins.”
Adrien pouted, “Blame the lack of social interaction.”
Nino patted his shoulder, “We do. We always do.”
Tim shook his head, “No, no, no, no. We’re missing the bigger question here. One we can actually bet on. Who’s going to say it first? Marinette or Damian?”
Alix snorted, “Marinette no question. The girl can’t hold it in to save her life and unlike Adrien, Damian will pick up on it.”
Dick hummed, “I don’t know. Damian has been acting extremely tame with her around. He’s blunt so he might just blurt it out.”
The group bickered amongst themselves while the two in question were frantically trying to make themselves presentable to the one and only Bruce Wayne. The group slowly found themselves in other conversations as they waited on the couple. Alix and Jason made an instant bond through their competitive spirit and need to outdo the other. Alya and Tim were discussing researching techniques. Chloe, Adrien, and Dick started a conversation about dress and hairstyles after Chloe offered to ‘fix’ Dick’s hair. All the while, Nino stood back and stayed by Alya’s side just feeling present in the moment as he looked around the arcade. He found himself drawn to a few rhythm games until the group heard rapid footsteps approaching the room. Their two friends burst into the room, panting, dressed but disheveled as they rushed to get back to the group.
Alix looked away from her game, “Marinette, you look like you just got out of a tornado.”
Dick looked the two over and hummed, “Both of you do.”
The two kids looked up and looked each other over. Marinette made a face before walking over and fixing Damian’s collar, “Really? That shirt with those jeans?”
Damian rolled his eyes and started to fix the short sleeves on Marinette’s blouse, “Yeah, whatever. Aren’t you going to get cold wearing this?”
Marinette huffed and straighten out his shirt and cuffs, “You’re just mad because you looked like you got mugged by some back alley crook.”
Damian scoffed and smoothed out some of the wrinkles, “Yeah and your friend is right. Where’s Todo? Don’t you two have a wizard to find?”
Marinette stepped back, looking him over once more before messing with his hair a bit, “Oh ha-ha. Very funny. At least I got ready before you did.”
Damian shook his head and pulled away, “You did not!” Damian looked her over one last time before turning her around, “Hold on, this pigtail is uneven.”
“Really?”
He pulled at the hair carefully adjusting it, “I don’t want Father to see us looking like we just woke up.”
Marinette turned back around and scrunched up her nose, “We did just wake up.”
“Details, details.” They looked each other over one last time and nodded, satisfied with their work on the other and turned back to the group. “Where did Father want us to meet him?” The two noted how the group before them stared in a weird mix of shock and amusement. “What?”
Tim shook his head and blinked a few times, “That didn’t just happen.”
Alya’s eyebrows could’ve touched the high ceilings, “You guys are very comfortable with each other for someone you met a day ago.”
Marinette looked at her friend confused, “What do you mean?”
Jason laughed, “I have never seen that happen before. He won’t even let Alfred go near him without a fight.”
Alix whistled, “Yup, this is going way better than it ever did with Adrien.” Marinette made a face, but still looked confused at the implications.
Nino just shook his head and pointed at the two teens, “What a rare sight to behold!” The group started to giggle as Nino upped the antics, “Here we have an old married couple in their natural state of being. Bickering at each other and fixing each other up like they’ve been doing it for years!”
The two looked each other over before realizing how weird that must’ve been to just start fixing each other’s clothes the way they did. It was so natural, they didn’t even realize it. Marinette’s face heated up, “I blame the lack of sleep and everything else that happened that night.”
Damian tried his best to keep his own composure, “Likewise.”
Chloe rolled her eyes, “Bruce is still waiting for you, you know? Tick-Tock Dupain-Cheng.” The two tensed up, completely forgetting why they rushed in the first place and ran to look for the man. “Did anyone tell them where to find him?”
Dick just shrugged, “They’ll figure it out.”
The two were running through the halls, asking anyone and everyone if they knew where Bruce was. “Shouldn’t you know where he likes to hang out? He’s your father!”
“If I knew that, we wouldn’t be running around now would we?” Damian turned another corner towards a small office and bumped into another man, knocking out everything he held. “Hey! Watch it!”
Marinette walked over and frowned, “Oh my god, you hurt Charles.”
“Who?”
Marinette walked over and helped the man up, “Are you going to help or not?”
“We don’t have time for-”
Marinette glared at him, “Help.” Damian groaned and started to help pick up the various items Charles was holding, handing them over after Marinette was done looking after him. She noted how disoriented he looked, how tired he was, and how messy his ‘fancy uniform’ was. Damian waiting for her impatiently caused her to override her need to fuss over the man and instead asked, “Sorry about that, we’re looking for Bruce.”
Charles blinked a few times before rubbing his temples, “Mr. Wayne? He’s in the main atrium by the second floor’s main stairway.”
Damian grabbed Marinette’s wrist before she could ask any further questions and ran. Sure enough, his father was standing there with a few colleagues. He let Marinette go, straightened himself out, and walked over. Marinette didn’t know why he felt the need to act so formal with his father, but she didn’t pry. “Father, I hear you’ve been looking for us.”
Bruce excused himself and walked over to the two teens, “From what I hear, I wasn’t the only one looking for you two. Where did they find you?”
Marinette could feel her face heat up slightly from embarrassment, “We fell asleep in the arcade. It’s my fault, I insisted we play more games and I guess we just knocked out.”
Damian looked her over, he was sure he was the one to suggest more games, but his father snapped him out of his thoughts. Bruce looked at his son amused, “Well, you two seem lively today at least.” Damian glared at his father who just smirked, “Glad you’re making friends.”
Damian rolled his eyes, “I really don’t think you called us here just to ask about how we slept.”
“How did you sleep?”
Marinette thought for a moment and stretched, “Not bad considering the setting.” She yawned, “I just wish I slept more.”
Damian rubbed his eyes, “Yeah, I can agree with that.” He leaned back and stretched, “Father, why are we here?”
Bruce looked over the two teens and sighed, “Come with me.” Marinette looked over at Damian for some kind of clue, but Damian didn’t even look her way as he followed his father. Marinette walked beside Damian, getting nervous by all the silence between the three. “I must apologize to you, Marinette.”
“Huh?” She ran forward a bit to walk beside Bruce and look up at his face, “What do you mean?”
“This was supposed to be a relaxing vacation for your hard work. So far, you’ve been put into numerous upsetting situations and have been thrown overboard.”
Marinette was quick to reassure, “No! No! No need to apologize!” She sighed and played with her pigtails, voice becoming smaller as she uttered, “I’ve been through worse.” She thought back to the various Akumas and how they compared, last night was terrifying because she wasn’t transformed. Still, there have been other situations that trump being thrown overboard by far. However, the laughing gas that took control over her and the man being rough with her as he threw her over the rails placed this event in the top 10 worst incidents she’s ever been through.
He frowned and looked over the girl, “You did surprise me though.”
She looked up surprised, “Oh? Really?”
Bruce nodded, “Not every day a teenager comes up with a plan on the spot to save a ship.”
“Oh! That.” Marinette shook her head and just chuckled, “Honestly, it was nothing. You should see how Ladybug saves Paris sometimes. The items Lucky Charm gives her are, in Chloe’s words, ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.” Marinette laughed, “She’s saved the day using a towel, a traffic cone, a teapot, almost anything normal you could think of.” She held a bittersweet smile on her face, “Trust me. This was nothing.”
“I don’t call saving all these passengers and throwing yourself in front of my son ‘nothing’.” Damian knew he was leading them to a lounge on the upper deck. It was where his father would go to escape the crowds and someplace he refused to let him or any of the other boys enter without swearing to behave lest getting kicked out. “A natural leader.”
Marinette frowned, “What?”
Bruce smiled at her, “You’re a natural leader. Despite what you think about yourself, you’re the one who saved the ship last night.”
Marinette’s face lit up a bright pink and she shook her head, “No! No! Batman did with his partner! I just played some loud music.”
Damian spoke up, “You did not!” Bruce and Marinette stopped and turned to Damian, “You came up with a plan on the spot using mundane resources your friend brought onto the ship and lead a team of three to successfully execute a mission to distract the enemy. Not only that, but your teammates consisted of me, a model, and an idiot. While I can handle myself, Adrien isn’t trained for this kind of thing and Jason’s Jason.” Damian sighed, not really knowing where that outburst came from, “You risked your life for everyone. That’s heroic if you ask me.”
Bruce watched as Marinette and Damian looked at each other, each looking like they had more to add but unable to say it. Bruce cleared his throat, snapping the two back to the present, and nodded. “Damian’s right. You deserve a reward.”
“But I already got a reward.”
Bruce stopped in front of a door and unlocked it, “A new reward.” He opened the door to a den that was extravagant and Marinette couldn’t stop herself from roaming the room.
“This is so beautiful!” She looked around the different shelves and gasped, “Another ship in a bottle!” She carefully held it and bounced, full of childish excitement, “Where do you guys get these? I want one! I love looking at them, they’re so small and intricate and-” She looked back at the Waynes and noticed them staring at her, both amused as they watched her barge in and look around like a kid in a candy store. She cleared her throat, painfully aware of the blush spreading across her face and neck, and carefully placed the bottle back. “Sorry.”
Bruce shook his head, “Don’t be.” He walked over to a small safe hiding underneath a shelf, “We’ve docked at Santander, Spain for the time being as this whole mess gets sorted out. Santander is a lovely little city to explore and if you’d like to head to a bigger city you could head to Bilbao.” He pulled out some cash and closed the safe door, “Escorted of course.” Damian nodded, even if Bruce didn’t directly tell him to be the escort, he knew Bruce referred to him. “All expenses paid for you and your class.”
Marinette looked at the money Bruce placed in front of her, “No! I couldn’t possibly-”
Bruce thought for a second and sighed, turning away from Marinette and walking towards Damian, “My hopes for this trip was to be a vacation for you and your class. Not even a few days in and those plans are ruined. I just want to make it up to you and your classmates.” Bruce trailed off sounding disappointed and Marinette bit her lip.
Marinette sighed, “If my classmates are going to go, as their class president I should too. Thank you.”
Damian saw his father smirk before turning around and handing her some money, “Perfect. I’ll give each of your classmates some spending money so you can all explore.”
Damian rolled his eyes, acknowledging his father’s cute attempt at manipulation, “I’ll go too. Like Father said, you need an escort.”
Marinette raised an eyebrow at Damian, “You know your way around a city in Spain?”
Damian smirked, “Just give me a few minutes and I will.” He pulled out his phone and started typing some things in, “Come on. We can go look at the beaches or park or something.” Damian held the door open for Marinette, “I’m assuming we’ll be leaving tomorrow as today is already late into the afternoon.”
Bruce nodded, “Try not to sleep through your group leaving tomorrow morning.”
Damian scowled and Marinette shook her head, “Please don’t remind me.” She sighed and sent the man a very genuine smile, “Thank you. Despite everything that’s happened, I’m glad I got the chance to be on this ship.”
Bruce couldn’t help but smile back, “I’m glad you were the winner.” Marinette nodded and walked out the door, “Damian.”
Damian turned to his father, “Yes?”
“I know you’re not used to this type of thing, but try to loosen up. If anything happens I know you can take care of it, but know that this isn’t a mission. You aren’t Robin right now. You are just Damian.”
“Just Damian has gotten into his fair share of trouble these past few days.”
“Please try, Damian.” There was a moment of silence before Damian just walked out and ran to catch up with Marinette.
Marinette waited for him to catch up, “You okay?”
Damian shrugged, “No reason not to be.”
Marinette yawned and put the money in her purse, “What do you want to do now?”
Before Damian could respond Marinette’s stomach growled loudly and he chuckled, “I think we should eat.” Marinette covered her stomach, embarrassed, and just nodded. Damian chuckled at the girl who just nudged him before laughing along with him. The two chatted as they made their way through the ship to get some food, if anyone were to look over they would say the two were in their own little world. Content and calm as they held a steady conversation with each other. 
They eventually made their way to the food before being stopped in front of the dining hall when someone called Marinette’s name. She turned to see three people running towards her, “I see you’ve made it down here!” Alix smiled, “You look a lot more awake now.”
Rose smiled brightly at the two, “Yeah! Alix told us how she found you two sleeping in the game room. That’s so sweet!” The two teens blushed, Marinette more intensely than Damian, but both felt the same amount of embarrassment.
Juleka shook her head at Rose’s bluntness, “Rose why don’t you give Marinette the thing.”
Marinette looked at the three confused before Rose held out some red fabric and her black shoes, “My dress!”
Juleka shrugged, “Yeah, it was just on the floor. Honestly didn’t realize it was yours until Lila brought it up to us.”
Marinette took the fabric and shoes into her arms before looking at her friends confused, “Lila?”
“Yeah.” The five turned to see the brunette walking towards them, “See, I told you you’d reach her faster than I could.”
Alix smirked, “Obviously.”
Juleka rolled her eyes, knowing that the comment only stroked Alix’s ego, “Come on Rose. Marinette, if you want to you can come sit next to us for dinner.” Juleka dragged Rose away from the two, mainly to save them from Rose’s questions about their budding relationship. She could see they weren’t there quite yet, but something was definitely blooming between the two. She was sure others saw it too as they made their way across the ship. 
Alix’s stomach growled and she laughed nervously at the group, “I need some food before I starve. I’ll be sitting with Kim and Max towards the back if you decide you don’t want Rose interrogating you two.” Alix winked at them before running to get food, leaving three teens standing awkwardly in front of the entrance.
Damian already didn’t like this girl and could feel his anxiety spike around her. That was never a good sign, “Let’s go eat already.”
Lila frowned and looked down, playing with her bracelet and acting coy, “But don’t I get a thank you?”
Marinette sighed and reluctantly said, “Thank you, Lila.”
Lila looked the two over before smirking, “You must be proud of yourself. Coming up with that plan on the spot was really something.” She walked forward a bit, pushing herself into Marinette’s personal space.
Marinette did her best to stand her ground, but she noticeably tensed up as Lila got closer. Damian grabbed her arm not wanting this to end up like that time in the rec room, “Let’s go, Marinette.”
Lila completely ignored the boy and held steady eye contact with Marinette. Her smile became demeaning, “You know something, I will say that it was odd that you left your skirt behind. I didn’t see much, but you and your little friend here were in that closet for some time with no cameras or anything. From what I can tell, they couldn’t reach you right away either.”
Marinette could feel her heart rate spike the same way it did when she was facing an Akuma. She swallowed the saliva in her mouth and did her best to keep her voice steady, “What are you trying to get at, Lila?”
“Marinette!” The three looked over and saw a familiar group running towards them with a girl running towards the front. 
Marinette could feel the tension vanish from her, “Alya?” Alya tackled Marinette, almost causing her to fall back, “Alya! Stop doing that!”
“No way, after yesterday I’m going to do this as long as I have a running start.” Marinette rolled her eyes and hugged back. Alya pulled away and turned to the other girl, “Oh! Lila! Hey, what have you been up to?”
Lila smiled back at Alya and her voice became cheerful, “Oh just wandering the ship. I came to return Marinette’s dress that she left behind.”
Alya looked at the items in Marinette’s arms and smiled, “Oh, that’s really cool of you Lila.”
“It’s nothing really.” Lila gasped as if she remembered something and smiled, “I saw a dog on the boat. It was cute!”
The rest of the group caught up and Nino panted, “You have to stop doing that, babe.”
Alya, ignoring her boyfriend’s whine, got excited, “A dog? What type?”
Damian started to slowly pull Marinette away from the girl but not before Lila looked Marinette right in the eyes and smugly stated, “Oh, it was a tramp.”
Damian scowled and pulled Marinette away forcefully, taking her inside the room and sitting down at a large table alone. “Sit.” Marinette did as she was told, almost as if she were on autopilot, and looked down at her lap. Damian frowned, “I know you’re worried about an Akuma, but we’re in a different country. I don’t know why you put up with her.” Marinette tensed up and Damian glared at the girl as she talked to her classmates, not even noticing that his brothers followed them and sat down at the same table.
Jason looked confused, “What was that about?”
Tim sighed, also glaring at the girl, “I thought it was obvious.”
“What was obvious?”
“That she called Marinette a-” Marinette abruptly stood up and walked away from the table, leaving the four brothers behind at the table startled, “tramp.”
Damian switched his glare over to his brother, “Really?”
Dick shook his head, “It’s like her friends don’t even see it. As far as I can tell, the only other two not wrapped around her finger are Adrien and Chloe.” He watched as Chloe and Adrien did their best to peel themselves away from the conversation, “I don’t get it.”
Jason just growled and pleaded with his brothers, “Again, we have the presentation. Most of her classmates are here anyway, we could do this now.”
Damian rolled his eyes, “Yeah, and then Marinette will be mad at you forever and refuse to talk to you for the rest of the trip.”
“She’ll forgive me.”
“In your dreams.”
Jason rolled his eyes, “Seriously though, we can’t let her put up with this.” He looked over at Dick, “Give me five minutes, I can take her.”
“No Jason!”
Jason crossed his arms and huffed before turning to Damian, “Don’t think you’re out of the woods yet either.”
Damian looked over at his brother and narrowed his eyes, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
The second youngest of the group looked between the two and bit his lip. He sighed and asked, “Why didn’t you take out the gunman?”
“What?”
Jason tilted his head and remained unamused, “You took down Superman once when he was possessed by Trigon and you really expect us to believe you couldn’t take out a crazy guy with a gun?”
Damian became defensive, tensing up and leaning away from his brothers, “He had it pointed at her head and one wrong move could’ve gotten her shot at point-blank range.”
Dick shook his head, “Come on Damian. You’ve fought in worse situations, many of them with hostages, and you expect me to believe that?”
Damian crossed his arms, he didn’t like being interrogated, “Blame Father. When he told me about this trip he swore to me if he found out I did anything out of line he’d retire me for good. No Robin, no Titans, nothing. He threatened me with boarding school.”
Jason looked him over and gave Damian a look that could only be described as annoyed disbelief, “That’s never stopped you before.”
“Yeah, but before I had the energy to not give a damn about whatever he said.” He looked back at Marinette getting food and talking with a few classmates, “She looked terrified. She didn’t have to say anything, but she was practically begging me to comply.” He sighed, “If I did try to take him out I know I would’ve lost my composure and hurt him. Badly. Father would’ve been upset and I don’t think Marinette would’ve forgiven me either.” He watched her float around, catching up with everybody before she looked up and caught his eye. She smiled and waved at him prompting him to turn back to the table, embarrassed about being caught staring, “She doesn’t know I’m Robin and I don’t want her to. I’m just Damian to her and I want to keep it that way.”
Tim watched her as well and hummed, “You guys might have more in common than you think.”
“What are you-”
Dick licked his lips before interrupting, “We told him about your little conversation with Captain Staller.”
Damian looked at Dick for a second confused before realizing what he meant, “Oh.”
Tim sighed and took out his phone, “Look, as far as I can tell many different superheroes have popped up around Paris over the years and I’m 89% sure she’s one of them.” He scrolled through the digital file and looked at all the pictures he collected, “Because it���s magic, the suits alter their physical appearances enough to make it hard to pinpoint which one she is.”
Damian’s interest was peaked, “Do you have a guess?”
Jason scoffed, “Are you guys serious? She’s obviously Ladybug.” The table froze and turned to him, “What?”
Dick shrugged, “I don’t know. You just said you thought our new tiny friend over there could be a superhero who’s been fighting a crazy magic terrorist for two years. Maybe that’s it.”
Tim scrolled through before pulling up a mouse themed hero, “I was going to say this was Marinette.”
Jason looked at the photo and passed the phone over to his other two brothers while he shook his head, “No way, did you guys see the way she bossed Bruce around. No temporary, one time heroine has that type of confidence. She’s been doing this for years.”
Tim frowned, “Prove it.”
“What?”
“We need proof that she’s Ladybug.”
“That who’s Ladybug?” The four looked up to see Marinette’s friends walk over and sit around the table. Alya smiled, “I love hearing other people’s theories. I can post it on the Ladyblog if you’d like.”
Damian shook his head, “He thinks one of your classmates could be Ladybug.”
Chloe scoffed, “Oh please, no one in this class is hero material other than me and maybe Adrien.” Adrien tensed slightly but went unnoticed due to years of controlling his body during modeling sessions.
Alya rolled her eyes, “If you want to hear crazy theories, I got one.”
Dick smiled, happy to get away from the tense subject prior, “Do tell.”
Alya smirked, “Okay, there’s no reason Batman and Robin-”
“Red Robin!”
“Okay, Red Robin – Thanks Tim – should be here on the ship or in Europe unless he was one of the passengers.”
Nino rolled his eyes and smiled. Nino loved seeing Alya get this fired up, “And who exactly could be Batman in this ship?”
Alya looked over at Nino with a knowing smiled before confidently announcing, “Bruce Wayne.”
“WHAT?” The chorus of four boys alongside Marinette, who came within earshot of the table, resonated in the room. Marinette put her plate down and groaned, “Alya, you cannot actually believe Bruce is Batman.”
Alya huffed, “And why not? He’s the same build, plus he only showed up after Bruce left the room. Batman knew his way around the boat from what I could see in the cameras and he didn’t need to talk to any of us to understand the situation. He has to be a passenger and I’m betting on Bruce.”
Adrien laughed, “You’re going down a weird rabbit hole.”
“Watch it, Agreste.” She looked over the four Wayne boys, “If I’m right, blink once.” All four boys in that moment did their best to not blink until her attention went somewhere else. 
Marinette rolled her eyes and sighed, “And who is Red Robin then?”
Alya hummed, “I don’t know.” She looked up and narrowed her eyes at Tim, “You weren’t around either.”
Tim tensed and Dick stood up abruptly, “Okay! I think it’s time to get food.”
Alya jumped up before they left the table, “Wait you still didn’t tell us who you think Ladybug is!”
Jason shrugged and bluntly stated, “Marinette.”
“WHAT?” The Parisian students all stared at the man wide-eyed and shocked. There was a moment of heavy silence before three out of the five classmates started laughing, “You actually think it’s Marinette?”
Chloe wiped a tear from her eye, “Seriously, have you seen how clutzy she is? No offence, but you are a walking hazard.”
Marinette huffed, “I’m not that bad!” Her friends stared her down until she reluctantly tacked on, “Not anymore.”
Adrien shook his head and quickly jumped into the conversation to protect his lady, “No way. Marinette can’t be Ladybug.”
Jason crossed his arms, “And why not? No offense, but I know a badass when I see one.” Marinette, despite being accused smiled at Jason. She hasn’t heard someone compliment her as Marinette like that and it made her feel a bit of pride. Jason saw this small spark in her and winked, “She saved the day. I think she’s a good candidate.”
Nino shook his head, “No, you guys don’t get it. We’ve seen Marinette and Ladybug in the same place.”
Jason deflated, “Really? When?”
Alya sighed and thought for a moment, “That was way back when they were first starting out. Timebreaker, right?”
Chloe winced, “Oh yeah, I caused that one.”
Damian didn’t miss how relieved Marinette got, “Are you sure they were in the same place?”
Adrien nodded, “Yeah, Marinette ran away with the rest of us.”
Tim looked over at Jason with a smug look on his face, “So I was right. Again. She’s not Ladybug.”
Jason pouted and walked over to Marinette, “I think you’re cool enough to be a hero.”
Marinette smiled warmly at Jason, “Thanks, but I’m really not.”
Alya snorted, “Now that’s a lie. You totally could be a hero. Honestly, I’m surprised Ladybug hasn’t recruited you yet.”
Chloe simply nodded, “I hate to admit it, but you would make a good asset to the team.”
Damian noted how Marinette seemed touched by her friends’ words, “You guys are sweet.”
Alya smirked, “One theory shot down, but my theory still stands.” The four brothers groaned and left the table to grab their food, “What?”
Adrien shrugged and sarcastically said, “I don’t know Alya, you just accused their dad of being a vigilante.”
Alya rolled her eyes, “As if they don’t know.”
Marinette shook her head, “No way Bruce is Batman. He’s too nice.”
Chloe hummed, “That makes the perfect cover then, doesn’t it?  Playboy, dad millionaire by day, bat themed hero by night.”
Adrien thought for a moment, “Then why would he leave Gotham? Wouldn’t it be too dangerous?”
Alya laughed haughtily, “You guys need to do research. Luckily, you are talking to France’s biggest superhero addict.” She pulled up her phone and started scrolling through different pictures of bat themed heroes, “He has an army of different heroes under his watch. Batgirl, Batwing, Nightwing, Robin, Red Hood (although he’s questionable), and who knows who else!” She wore a smug smile, “We’re going to be here for a while so that gives plenty of chances to investigate and prove my theory.”
Marinette frowned and sent a small glare at her best friend, “Where was this determination during our last research project?”
Alya wilted and laughed nervously, “Oh, well, um-” The four brothers came back to the table and she perked up, “So if I find proof your dad is Batman will you admit I’m right?”
Damian rolled his eyes, “Yeah, sure Alya.”
Jason huffed, “I’m not giving up on my theory though.” He turned to Marinette and pointed at her, “Yesterday was crazy, but you kept your cool and saved the other passengers. I know you said it’s because you’re used to this stuff in Paris, but there’s no way a normal girl can push Bruce out of the way and take charge like that.” He took a large bite of his food and with a full mouth said, “You are a hero. I know you are.”
Damian watched Marinette’s reaction very closely, noting how she would tense up anytime they would directly accuse her. Damian had his own suspicions, if she wasn’t Ladybug, then Tim’s theory could be right. Still, she has too much experience for someone only called to be a hero once or twice. It didn’t add up. He looked over at his brother and noted the fire in his eyes, he’s never seen Jason so sure of himself. Marinette looked so serious, he knew Jason hit a nerve.
“I believe it too.” Marinette whipped her head around and stared at Damian, “I agree with Jason. I don’t know how, but you are a hero.”
Tim coughed up his drink and yanked his phone back, quickly typing something on it. “I need to record this. The little brat actually agrees with Jason on something.” Damian gritted his teeth and avoided the shocked expression on Dick’s face and definitely avoided the joy on Jason’s face. 
Marinette couldn’t believe what was happening around her. Two people she’s barely met both correctly guessed her secret identity. Weirdest thing? She wasn’t panicking. She felt confused. She didn’t know how she felt about any of it. She looked into herself and noted how even though she was nervous, she wasn’t going over the edge like she did yesterday when her friends interrogated her. She didn’t know what was different, but she still needed to answer the group. Her eyes met Adrien’s and in a quick moment of silent communication, she knew he would support her no matter what she said. She looked down and sighed, dejected and firmly stated, “No. I’m not a hero. I’m Marinette Dupain Cheng. That’s it.”
Alya pitied her friend, knowing that if she was Ladybug she would’ve given Marinette a Miraculous as soon as she had the chance. She shook her head, “Enough. Marinette’s a hero in her own right. Miraculous or not.” She pointed at the boys, “But I’m still convinced Bruce is Batman!”
Tim met her stare with an equally determined one of his own, “And we’re convinced Marinette’s a hero!” He put out his hand towards the future reported, leaning over the table with a determined look on his face, “May the best investigator win.”
Alya grinned and firmly grasped Tim’s hand, slightly startling him with her grip. Tension held the table hostage. The heavy air sat between the group as both sides had their own theories as to who’s the true hero. Marinette could feel Damian’s eyes glued onto her. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye, she just knew he’d know she was lying. She hated lying, but it was necessary to keep her secret hidden. Alya, unaware of the pressure she built, smugly stated, “I plan to.”
Dick sighed looked over to Damian and Marinette, “I wanted to ask you if Bruce told you about what happened late last night.”
The two snapped their attention to Dick and Marinette shook her head, “What are you talking about?”
Dick looked over at Jason and Tim, uncertain and nervous on how to proceed. Damian frowned, “What are you talking about Grayson?”
Dick shook his head and mumbled, “What the hell Bruce?” At this point, the whole table silently waited for a response and Dick could feel the pressure. Dick looked around and pointed, “Ask him yourself.”
The table all turned to see Bruce walking over, his smile fell after seeing everyone’s faces. The kids were all confused and the two teens of interest both held looks of concern. “What are we talking about?”
Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, “You didn’t tell them.”
Bruce glared at him, “No and I wasn’t going to. She doesn’t need to know.”
“To be fair,” the two men turned to a scowling Marinette, “I don’t like people talking about things concerning me behind my back.” Marinette narrowed her eyes at Bruce, “What don’t I know?”
Bruce was surprised, he didn’t realize this girl had it in her to look at anyone like that. Her resolve oozed out of every pore as she stared him down, something most Gotham villains can’t do. Bruce sighed and knelt down in front of her, Damian tensed considering he’s only ever seen him like this when he was about to give him bad news. “You know those men who attacked the ship last night?” Marinette nodded, already not liking where this was headed. “Those men disappeared last night from their holing cells. The authorities woke up this morning and found the cell only held two kids and all other evidence disappeared. It’s like they vanished into thin air and one of the kids was hurt.” Marinette held onto every word and felt her breath hitch, “Marinette, they may come back. I’m working with Batman to strengthen the security of the ship.”
There was a moment of silence before Marinette responded, “So that’s why you wanted me off the ship tomorrow.” Bruce looked at her confused while her expression became more serious, “You wanted me off the ship in case they came back while the ship was finishing its final repairs.”
Bruce nodded, “You saw how that man who threw you overboard had an interest in you. If he saw you again, he might try something.”
“That won’t happen.” The table turned to Damian, “We won’t let that happen. Father, if you haven’t realized she’s going to be safest when around us.”
Bruce nodded in agreement, “Which is why you four will be accompanying the class on their outing tomorrow.” He stood up and straightened out his shirt before turning to the rest of the classmates, “You will be given spending money to use and keep should you choose. I want you all to have fun while on this trip as promised, but it may be safer if you weren’t on the boat.”
Chloe brushed her bangs out of her face and pouted. “I don’t like running”, she sighed, “but without my Miraculous he’s right.”
Adrien bit his lip, “We’ll stay with Marinette tonight too. From what I hear, the room is big enough.” He let out a bittersweet laugh, “Great first sleepover.”
Alya pitied the boy but nodded, “It’s settled. We stay in Marinette’s room tonight and tomorrow we stay together as a group to explore the cities until Bruce gives us the okay.”  
Nino nodded, “I’m in.”
“Of course.”
“Ditto.”
“Marinette?” Alya realized her best friend’s gaze never looked away from Damian, “Marinette?”
Marinette glared at Damian, “Did you know?”
Damian looked over at the girl and realized her acuations were similar to those she had on the first night they met. “No. No, I didn’t.” Marinette held up her pinky, “What?”
“Swear to me.” He looked at her for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden request, but eventually wrapped his pinky around hers. Marinette relaxed a bit and she nodded, “Okay.” She looked over at Alya, “If he wants he’s allowed to the sleepover.”
Damian blinked, “Wait, what?”
Alya nodded, “Okay. Damian, you can meet up with the guys at their rooms and walk over together.” Alya put out her fist, “We’re going to make the most of this trip and keep each other safe. We are not letting Marinette’s efforts go to waste!” Nino sighed and stood up, placing his fist next to Alya’s. Adrien stood up next and placed his fist next to Nino’s. Chloe did the same. Marinette followed suit and the five classmates stared at the Waynes expectantly. “You guys in or not?” Jason stood up first out of the family and put his fist in. Next was Tim, then Dick, then Bruce. Damian was hesitant, but after meeting Marinette’s pleading expression he reluctantly stood and did the same. Alya smiled, “Okay.”
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455 notes · View notes
dreamer95 · 4 years
Text
Love Me Not (Part 2)
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Theme; Angst…Very Angst.
Warnings; Heartbreak, Sadness. Super Low Self-Esteem. Abuse & Toxic Relationship. Mention of sex.
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    “Congratulations you have been accepted to attend the University of Seoul. We cannot wait to see you and become part of our campus.”
    You looked down at the paper in your hand. You couldn’t believe it you got accepted into the biggest university in Korea. You remember you were so excited to tell Jimin about your application but now you couldn’t share the happiest moment. 
    You felt proud of yourself it was hard to get into the school, but you manage to get accepted. Maybe this was your new beginning to be happy.
    The day had finally arrived, and you got ready for your first day at school. You were excited and nervous but mostly happy. You made your way around the campus trying to figure out your schedule. 
When somebody bump into you.
    “Seriously you again!” You remember that voice like it was just yesterday it was screaming at you at the park.
    “I’m sorry but you bumped into me” you told him in a quiet voice. “Did I fucking ask you?” He stepped closer to you.
    You looked down at your hands scared to say anything else. You didn’t want a repeat of last time.
    “You know you still owe me for ruining my jacket last time” He was standing so close to you that you could feel his breath on your face.
    “I’ll pay you for the dry cleaning” you tried stepping away, but we are stuck between the wall and his body.
    “Nah, I have a better way for you to pay me. You know you’re not that bad looking when you’re not cover in coffee. From now on you’re my girl, got it. You do everything I tell you to do. If you don’t then I guess they would be some consequences” he told you feeling his hands on your waist.
    “I’m sorry but I just got out of a relationship and I’m not ready for another one. I can pay you instead.” This guy had danger all over his face, he didn’t give you a good vibe. And besides that, a relationship was the last thing you wanted at the moment. 
    Moving on from Jimin wasn’t easy, he was your longest relationship somebody that showed you that happily ever after did exist. Maybe not for you but for everybody else.
    “I don’t give a fuck what you want. I’m the head of the school, you wouldn’t want people to start talking about you. Would you?” He asked you with a smirk on his face.
    The last thing you wanted was drama, you just wanted to lay low, finish your first year and be able to move on with your life. He wasn’t kidding you know he would make your life living hell. 
    Maybe this can help you move on from Jimin. I mean he did move on from you rather quickly and this might not be the ideal relationship, but it was something.
    You were desperate to stop hurting, to stop yearning for Jimin to come back and tell you he loves you. You were tired of crying yourself to sleep at night because all you could think about was how Jimin was kissing and doing everything he did with you with her.
“Okay” You whispered.
    “Glad we are on the same page baby” he said letting you go. You could breathe again.
    You walked towards your locker pulling your books out for your class when you looked to your right and saw the girl that was dating Jimin.
“What is she doing here?” You asked yourself.
    She looked up at you and smile. “Hello I’m Yuri, nice to meet you! Are you new here?” She asked you smiling at you so kindly.
“Umm yea today is my first day.”
    “Oh goodie. You’re going to love it. This is my last year.” She told you closing her locker giving you her full attention.
“Oh really? What are you studying for?” You asked curiously.
    “Business. I’m actually an intern at BigHit just started working there a few months ago.” There it was you knew it was her Jimin was dating. You gave her a fake smile and closed your locker saying goodbye to her making you way to class. Your first day and you already hate it.
    School was finally over, and you were at your locker when someone slam their body next your locker. “Hey baby” you heard Jake say give you a kiss on the cheek.
    You felt yourself crinch at the feeling, it was nothing compare to Jimin’s kisses. “Stop thinking about him” you mentally smacked yourself.
    “Let’s go the boys are waiting and I hate being late” he said closing your locker  before you could finish and pulling you away rather harshly.
    You saw Yuri talking on the phone, while having a huge smile on her face. You saw her jump from joy and that’s when you saw him. Waiting for her at the end of the gate. He looked so happy to see her. You felt your heart breaking you didn’t think it could break any more than it already was. 
You missed him terribly and seeing him happy was just so heartbreaking.
“Hey stupid! I’m talking to you!” You heard Jake said smacking you on the head.
“I’m sorry. I was lost in thought”
    “I honestly don’t know what you could possibly be thinking about. You seem pretty stupid to me” Jake didn’t care about your feelings and to be honest with everything going on you felt like you deserved it for not being good enough. This is the only type of relationship you deserved to be in.
    You couldn’t stop looking at Jimin and Yuri. You had to admit they were perfect for each other. Yuri was beautiful from head to toe; she was kind and had a wonderful personality. She was the perfect fit for Jimin. You loved everything about Jimin. 
    Jimin was a whole package deal, he had an amazing personality, the cutest smile, he was drop dead handsome. He was an amazing dancer and singer. You couldn’t think of anything wrong with him. He was perfect and you could tell so was Yuri.
    When you started dating Jimin it surprised you that a guy like him would even give you a chance. You were so normal so boring, why would he give you the time of day. But Jimin proved to you that you were enough even if at the end you ended up getting hurt. 
    You sigh getting pulled out of your thoughts when Jake and his friends laughed about something you were clearly not paying attention too. But their loud laughs grabbed the attention of the people walking by even Jimin.
    You quickly looked away when you saw Jimin give you a confused look. 
    “Hey babe, lets get out of here. What do you say we go back to your place?” Jake said pulling you harshly by your wrist. You could already feel a bruise coming.
    “Oh, umm maybe another time. I have tons of homework and I want to get it done before tomorrow” You lied. You didn’t want to risk being alone with him.
    “Oh, come on baby! Maybe I can help you with some of that homework.”
    “No really It’s okay.” You said trying to get out of his hold.
    “Maybe you didn’t understand what I’m trying to say. But I’m coming over to help you with your homework” Jake said with through his gritted teeth.
    “Oh okay” you felt the pain in your wrist. Trying to mask the pain but failed miserably. Jake said goodbye to his friends and start walking towards his car, you following like a lost puppy behind him.
    You noticed Jimin was still staring at you, you quickly looked down at your feet and walked faster.
    Jimin recognized the guy, he couldn’t forget the face of the low life who dare put hands on a woman, nether less you. But he couldn’t stop thinking why you were with him in the first place. He was pulled out of his thought when Yuri called out for him starting to walk away towards his car but not before sparing you a second glance. You face had some many emotions but the one that stood out the most was sadness.
    You were back in your apartment, instead of doing homework Jake had other plans. You were in the shower trying to scrub off his scent, his touch everything out of your body. He was nowhere near as gentle as Jimin. Jimin was soft and gentle unless you wanted otherwise while Jake was rough and only care about himself not giving you the attention your body needed.
    After what felt like hours your got out of the shower and just threw on one of Jimin’s old shirt that he left behind. It still smelled like him, hugging yourself feeling safe.
    You stared at the wall in front of you wondering what you did to deserve this. Why couldn’t you be happy? You kept thinking of everything that was wrong with you. That is why Jimin left you.
That was all that was going through your mind.
    The doorbell went off pulling you out of your thoughts. Walking rather slowly towards the door you opened it not bothering to ask who it was. What else could go wrong that night.
You were shocked to see a very out of breath Jimin on the other side of the door.
“Jimin what are you doing here?” You questioned.
    Jimin took a while to answer you taking in how you looked. He noticed the bruises on your neck and your arms. He felt angry but only because he still cared about you… right?
“Can I come in?”
    “Oh, umm sure.” You moved away from the door to let him in closing it behind him. Making your way towards the living room. Sitting down on the couch him following your steps. This brought you back memories and not the good ones.
“Why are you here?” You asked.
    “Why were you with that guy? Wasn’t he the same guy you bumped into at the park?” Jimin asked giving you a confused look.
    “Oh jake? Yea he is umm my boyfriend?” You said looking down at your hands to scared to see Jimin’s reaction.
“I’m sorry Your what?” He almost yelled.
 Part 3 coming soon🦋
16 notes · View notes
lov3nerdstuff · 4 years
Text
Dark Stars {Part 5}
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*Loki x OFC*
Part: 5/10
Words: 5.6k
Warnings: violence, injuries 
Summary: ~Loki could just let her die here and now. His problems would be solved and he could go back to his usual ways. But then he would forever be left with an unsolved mystery and he hated the prospect of that even more than the fear of what would happen if she lived.~
A story of what happens when Loki stumbles upon someone who is like him in every way. Only better. Oh, and they just happen save Asgard too.
A.N.: MERRY CHRISTMAS to everyone who celebrates it, and happy times in general to absolutely everyone else 💗 To celebrate over 1000 people following me (how insane is that?!), I decided to share the newly edited version of the very first Loki fanfiction I ever wrote! Enjoy the mischief 💚
All Parts can be found on my Masterlist!
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Ivy remained standing exactly where she was, closing her eyes for a short moment, as she tried to breathe away the feelings that wanted to surface so badly. Who was she kidding, it had been too nice to be true. She had promised herself to not let anyone ever get close to her again. And out of all people who could possibly have broken down her walls, it of course had to be the only person in all the nine realms who was about just as broken and complicated as herself.
To hel with Loki... Ivy didn't even really know him, really! He and her had been in this mess for roughly a day and she was already this desperate for his affection. And here she was, calling HIM a loser…
It was stupid to get all upset about it now, and Ivy rolled her eyes at herself.
Only a few hours back they had been at each other's throats and he had been a total jerk… a rather charming jerk to be honest, but a jerk nonetheless. The teasing had been fun and games and all, but it didn't give her silly mind the right to hold her own expectations against him now. Ivy sighed to herself and chewed on her bottom lip, lost in thought as she still hadn't moved an inch. Why had he even gone with her in the first place, if he wanted to distance himself? Not to mention the dancing… the warming-up had been her own idea, admittedly, but the rest had been Loki's doing. Ivy could still feel his hand on her back as if it had left a lingering, burning print, a scorching mark of the first appreciated touch after years...
She should go looking for him, at least… or he might just get his godly ass locked into prison again. As soon as she had made up her mind, she walked out of her hideout and into the nightly forest at last.
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Once Loki had left the opening and found himself in the solemn company of swaying trees, he already missed her warmth. And her endless babbling. And her eyes. And her enchanting mind.
He frowned at himself in equal frustration and anger. Why had he allowed her get this close to him? She had gotten deep under his skin, and he hadn't been able to do a single thing about it, really. Surely she would only hurt him, eventually… or worse: he would end up hurting her. If he was being honest with himself, he feared the latter even more. For despite his love for messing with people, he just couldn't let himself be the reason for her doom. For once in his life he couldn't be selfish. For once, he would put someone else's well-being over his own, even if it was hurting him.
He would spare her the pain of finding out that he had been right all along: he was not a nice man. He was despicable, dangerous and mischievous and utterly broken. Thoroughly messed up. And honestly, she deserved so much better than the turmoil that was loving Loki.
Surely she hadn't become too attached to him after only a day, and he hadn't given her all that many reasons to like him after all. Surely, his leaving wouldn't hurt her.
But Loki would miss her indeed. Terribly so, even, and it annoyed and pained him equally. So he went to the only place he knew where she wouldn't dare to follow, unless she was completely and hopelessly stupid. Maybe, he just a little bit hoped that she was.
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Ivy stood in utter darkness, in silence but for the soughing trees, thinking... Loki was a smart man, beyond smart actually, so he would certainly not go back to the palace. On the other hand, he wouldn't go to a place where she could easily follow him to... That left one certain place, out of the likely choices, which popped into her head immediately and she rolled her eyes. That genius idiot…
She made a mental note to never tell him of something that bothered her ever again, and to simply keep her fears to herself. Though now… she had a plan where to go, and she had a plan on how to find him.
Once she had made her mind up, it didn't take her much to bring herself into the city, and even less to change her shape into that of a (by common standards) 'normal' woman. Long blonde hair, tall, thin, large blue eyes and pouty lips. In her opinion she looked stupid, like this was the most ridiculous of disguises her subconscious could've come up with, but the hungry glances she was already getting proved her wrong in that. Once she had made sure her disguise wouldn't indeed attract any attention, she went on to finding Loki. Knowing him even to the slightest, or rather knowing that he was uncomfortably much like herself, Ivy was led to assume the worst.
Thus, she walked around the city for a while, trying to find the busiest, most crowded place around. On her way through the streets, she still felt highly exposed, despite her desperate attempt to fit in. Almost every male she came across stared at her like a predator would ogle its prey… it made her stomach drop in disgust. Some women did stare oo, actually, but Ivy didn't discriminate, she simply despised all of them, regardless of their gender or status. Some people even whistled after her or shouted rude comments… It was as if the entire city had made it their mission to make her as miserable as she could be.
Ivy concentrated on the task at hand though. She was sure that Loki would've changed his appearance as well, and she was just as sure that he would be one of the very few people who didn't try to undress her with his eyes. The thought made her skin tingle.
Yet, at the present moment, she rather hated him for putting her through this… which actually he hadn't, for she had decided for herself to run after him like a lovesick teenager, but Ivy was mad at him nonetheless.
Following him seemed rather stupid now, given her circumstances, but she was still determined to find him and… what, apologize? Snap at him? She would have to find out once she actually found him.
Geez, that stupid idiot would be the end of her... and yet, for some unfathomable reason, she felt the dire need to save him. Not from the people in the city, or the guards, or even the allfather, for he was perfectly capable of doing all that himself. No, Ivy felt the need to save him from himself.
She finally reached a hopelessly crowded bar that was bursting with people inside out, and they were just everywhere, staring at her while she squeezed her way through the crowd towards the counter.
"Hello there, beautiful…" A tall blonde man cooed. "Wanna have some fun? You sure look like it." Then he pulled her against his chest with a start, and rather unceremoniously started groping at her butt. Ivy pushed him away in utter disgust and immediately moved to hide in the crowd, only to find herself in the arms of yet another smirking man who moved to grab her hand to pull her closer. Dear gods, had everyone suddenly gone insane?!
After threatening a few more people with a dagger once they came too close to her, Ivy finally reached a corner of the bar where she could stand with her back to the wall while having a look around the place. There were so impossibly many people… dancing and drinking and singing and eating and she hated every bit of it. They made her nervous, and almost dangerously tense.
How ridiculous… She could have fought all of them at once, easily eliminating the problem of too many people, but being here with the aim of NOT causing a fight made her feel sick to the stomach with anxiety. She would oh so gladly just kill anyone who had dared to touch her, but that would likely draw too much attention towards herself, and very likely end with her getting arrested again. Thus, with a defeated sigh, she sat down behind the bar and just went ahead to pour herself a drink, downing all of it in one go, hoping it would help numb her frayed nerves. But even after the fourth drink, she still felt on edge.
It wasn't so much the people who made her nervous, but rather the thought of what she might do to them if she wasn't careful. If she would just let her darkness surface for one second, allow it to take control over her, she would be doomed and everybody in the room along with her. And with all those annoying, disgusting creatures nagging at her self-control, she came dangerously close to losing the fight against herself.
Once more a man came sauntering towards her, looking over the counter and licking his lips in a very distasteful way. And once more it made her sick to the stomach. Thus, ignoring the man who was luckily held at a distance by the furniture, she downed another drink before she made her way back into the crowd at last, feeling all the hands on her, the elbows to her ribs, the feet kicking her... A deep frown fell onto her face as her heart began beating too quickly, and she let out a shivering breath in a vain attempt to keep her composure, as she shoved and staggered her way back towards the exit. The pain of holding herself together, of repressing the dark was almost unbearable now.
Escaping the crowd took forever, the door seemed miles away, and she was shoved around like a flag in the storm, a ship on the rough sea, until she was finally close to the exit. It had been a terrible idea, exposing herself to the crowds like that… Her heart was racing like it would explode any minute now, and she felt her chest aching like she wouldn't live to see another day. Her breathing became more ragged and steadily faster, her vision more blurry until she could hardly see the world but in a swirling storm of colors. And while small beads of sweat covered her skin as did goosebumps, she felt too hot and yet too cold at the very same time.
"How much for a night with you?" A short and chubby man murmured into her ear, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind all of a sudden. That was when Ivy finally lost it.
She closed her eyes and her entire being stilled for a few seconds, frozen in place and time, and only then a loud crack followed by a pained scream made the room fall silent. Both came from the man who had been holding onto Ivy's waist.
He let go of her immediately as he still screamed, holding his broken arm with his other hand before that arm cracked as well, causing him to drop to his knees in agony. All eyes fell on Ivy as she stood her ground in front of the man, motionless, expressionless. His arms hung limply at his sides, twisted and shattered, and he finally succumbed to pain and fell weeping onto the dirty floor. Then another scream cut through the silence, and another and another, as slowly one by one the people who had groped at her dropped down and wreathered on the ground. The lights flickered and the went out at last... bottles filled with various liquids exploded into a million shards, liquids forming dark pools all around, and some people started screaming in fear. And then the crowds began to move, screams echoing through the room and turning the previously happy, lively place into a scary symphony of carefully orchestrated screams. The walls of the bar slowly started to crack, stones crashing under their own weight and threatening to collapse and burry everyone beneath tons of massive brick.
People started pushing each other around, blindly rushing to the exits in mindless panic. More and more people dropped to the ground with broken limbs while others simply went stiff, lifeless in their run and tumbled down among the living.
Ivy for her part stood completely still and smiled, as if enjoying the omnipresent agony of everyone around her. Then however she was knocked to the ground by the panicked masses and hit her head on the floor, suddenly brought back into reality by the hard impact.
And only once she realized what had happened, what she had done, it came rushing onto her like she was struck by lightning… the unbearable pain and the graveness of her actions made her stomach drop at first, then she felt sick beyond measure. She struggled to her feet and let the masses drag her along to the exit, until she was finally free from the crowd, stumbling into the chilly night. It didn't make her feel any better nor calmer, only much colder, and thus she stumbled on and on and on, until she reached a dark and tiny alleyway and let herself sink down in a dark corner, allowing her form to change back into her normal self once more. There was no energy left within her being to uphold any form of pretense. Her breathing was still hysterical and she gagged a couple times when no air seemed to reach to her lungs despite any effort. Her chest, her heart, everything was in pain and she just felt too unbearably hot. Evey nerve of her body was on fire, scorching and frayed, yearning for release from this misery.
Meanwhile her mind jumped from the darkest place to an even darker one and another, a thousand thoughts per second, but she wasn't able to grasp any of them. A rush of pictures, a tightening of space and time forced to squeeze into a reality too narrow for comprehension. In a desperate attempt to calm herself down, she hugged her knees to her chest so tightly it hurt her bruised body even more, rocking forwards and backwards as she wept in silence. Her eyes were fixed on the opposed brick wall as she waited for this broken moment to pass, hoping it was nothing but a bad dream.
It wasn't like she didn't know what was happening to her body, didn't know what she had done… but she was merely unable to do anything about it, once it had started, once it had taken a hold of her. Nothing but waiting for it to pass.
That's why she did actually notice distant footsteps coming closer to her, rapidly closer, but still found herself unable to really care at the moment. Anyone could've come and done whatever they pleased to her, arrest her or beat her up maybe, or kill her in seek for revenge... she wouldn't have been able to do much about it. She only sat on the ground, staring wide eyed at the wall as her body had gone numb but for the pain. Then, suddenly and out of the cold nothingness, she felt a strong pair of arms wrap around her small body and she was pulled closely against a chilled, muscled frame. "It's alright…"
Loki… Ivy wasn't yet able to smile nor cry at the realization, but she did let herself fall against him, and tried to control her breathing for now. In his embrace, her body slowly stopped trembling and her breathing evened out after a long while.
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Of course Loki had been there from the very first moment Ivy had set foot into the city, he had seen what had happened back at the bar and honestly, he still hadn't fully processed it. He had never seen anything of the sort happening outside of war, and he surely hadn't expected to face it tonight.
Just when he had been about to reach out to her back at the bar, the masses had pulled him away like a river grabbing onto a fallen lief and carrying it with all the force of nature. He had lost sight of her in the crowd almost immediately, and had started looking for her nonetheless, running through the streets until he finally found her heavily shaking and barely breathing in that dark alleyway. At least for now, he ignored whether or not he was good for her, because right now, she needed him. And he would be there.
So he held her shaking form in his arms, hugging her tightly to his chest while they both waited for her to calm down into a less… lethal state.
He wanted to shout at her, for how stupid she had been for coming here… for how utterly, completely stupid she was for running after him. And for how sorry he was for believing she wouldn't.
But that could wait, until they were somewhere safe again. Or maybe even until he forgot about it. And definitely until she would be fine again.
"Loki..." Ivy breathed, after what seemed like hours of silence broken by heavy breaths.
"I'm here." His voice was quiet, yet soothing and soft as he had never heard himself speak. "I'm not leaving you."
Her shivering had stopped, and her breathing was almost back to a normal rate, but she still clung onto him for dear life. "I hate you." She whispered, and her voice broke without her consent.
"I know…" He said in the same sad voice. "I'm sorry."
"That doesn't nearly suffice. You are the single most stupid man in existence."
"I know."
"And I hate you."
"I know."
"Why did you just leave like that? I mean, I know, I have pushed you too far with the dancing and the sort, and you are obviously free to do whatever you please, but you did you have to run off like that? Without a word?" Her voice didn't reflect any anger, and yet he could tell that she had been hurt by his actions. And he actually cared, for once, that he had hurt someone.
"I thought it was the best I could do for both our sakes." He answered honestly.
"Well it was fucking stupid, and if you ever do stupid shit like that again I will kick your ass into chaos. Or Hel." She said and pulled away from him just enough to look at his face. He smirked slightly at her rather harsh choice of words, but otherwise he looked quite as shaken as she felt.
"I will not walk off without a word again…" He said with a sincere expression on his face, helping Ivy up to her feet. "But I have to ask… what happened back there?"
Ivy sighed and looked to the ground in what looked like both shame and sadness. "I don't want to talk about it."
"But… That was just incredible, I mean I have never seen anyone doing anything quite like this." Loki frowned, his voice a mix of astonishment and worry.
"Please, Loki… Just let it go." Ivy begged, and when she gazed back at his face, her eyes were reddened and filled with slightest glimmer of unshed tears. Loki nodded without another word, looking away, unable to bear the sadness this sight of her eyes inflicted in him.
He brought them back to the hidden opening in the forest a short moment later, and quietly let Ivy lead the way through the boulder. The sun had started to rise, but it was still rather dark around the little opening. Once they took place on Ivy's blanket camp, she sighed tiredly and laid on her back, facing the fading stars with a very much torn expression. Loki followed her example, crossing his arms under his head.
He didn't regret coming back here, nor coming back to Ivy. He had been foolish to believe that he could leave and forget, and to expect the very same of her. Life didn't work like that, and maybe he would have known that if he hadn't cared for solemnly his own sake for the last millenia or so.
"Loki?" She asked quietly, yet not looking at him. Likely to hide an expression of the kind she had tried to keep from him before.
"Yes?" He was still not sure whether he should allow himself to feel what he did, for her, but he knew now for sure that whether or not his feelings deserved a title, they were already changing him and his behavior. But was that so bad? They could be friends after all... Yes, Loki would be a friend to Ivy. He didn't quite know how to work that, but for her, he would find it out.
"Why did you really leave?" Her voice was quiet and soft and he couldn't help himself but tell her the truth. Half of it at least.
"Because I'm dangerous, Ivy. I mean harm to anyone who dares to come close to me. I could kill you in an instant and not feel remorse at all." He breathed. There had been so many times when his reason had abandoned him to be alone with the darkness lurking beneath the surface of a pretty face and flattering eloquence. Ready to lunge at whoever was unfortunate enough to be close to him.
"And what do you think now?" She asked in a quiet yet curious voice.
"I think that just the same might be true for you. I saw what you did there and I… it certainly was quite something."
"I wish you hadn't seen that." Ivy rested her head on her hands, looking almost shyly at Loki who merely turned his head towards her. "I wish you hadn't seen the monster that I am."
Loki smiled, a sad, bitter smile which made Ivy's eyes drop to the dusty ground beneath them. He wanted to tell her that she was no monster, never could be, not like him... that she was the most extraordinary, enchanting and interesting person he had ever met. That he cared about her. That there were many pretty women in the nine realms, beautiful creatures of elegance and pride, but never in a million lifetimes there would be someone with a more beautiful mind than hers. But Loki didn't say any of it.
"I think you should sleep now." He said instead, calmly, and rose to his feet.
"So you can run off again?" She frowned sadly, but she knew he was right. She needed to sleep, her body felt drained, weak and shivery as did her mind.
Loki thought about lecturing her about how she couldn't tell him what to do, about how he was a prince, a literal god, about how no one could restrain him, keep him from whatever he felt like doing… But he couldn't. "I will be here when you wake up. I promise." Was all he said.
"I hope so, for your own sake. Next time you go, I won't be following. And I doubt you would expect me to." With that Ivy turned her back towards him, and rolled herself into the blanket as tightly as possible. She had made enough stupid decisions for one day. And she had certainly done enough damage along the way.
Once Loki was sure Ivy had drifted off to sleep, he was gone once more, far away from her, as far as possible. He needed a plan, and he needed to think. And that was simply impossible when she was this close by, this close to tempting him to lay down with her and simply allow himself to dwell in her presence.
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The sound of thunder startled Ivy, and a second later she noticed the first raindrops hitting her chilled skin. She felt dizzy, confused and blinded while yet everything around her was too dark. Then it started pouring down onto her, buckets of water as thick as a wall.
There was no shelter anywhere around the opening, nor around the forest expect for trees towering high above. She stumbled to her feet and took in the impossible darkness that surrounded her.
Suddenly, when a strike of lightning left the opening as bright as day, she saw Loki standing a few feet in front of her. His back was facing her, dark frame contrasting against the too bright sky for a mere second, and her feet carried her over to him involuntarily.
Once she stood right in front of him, another lightning struck. He was covered in blood, dark and thick and all over him like the rain that was drenching Ivy herself. A grin, wicked and evil, played on his face, twisting his beautiful features in a way that made her blood freeze. Darkness again.
"I'm so sorry…" He whispered, confusing Ivy even more than she already was.
"What..?" She breathed. Lightning.
She could see his face had completely changed, and his wide eyes were filled with tears and horror. Ivy gasped. Darkness.
"I told you, I warned you…" His voice was low and thick with tears. Ivy felt a jolt of hot white pain rushing through her, sizzling through her being like a single droplet on hot stones, and she screamed. Lightning.
Loki was still staring at her with eyes of an almost complete black, yet filled with more emotions than Ivy could comprehend. His gaze left her own to travel down her body... And she followed his eyes down to the blade that was deeply imbedded in her stomach. Darkness.
She felt hot tears escape her eyes, scorching rivers down her skin, and the pain grew stronger by the second, making her drop to her knees. "Loki..." She breathed, and a second later she felt his bloodied hand on her cheek, gently caressing her skin.
"I told you… But you just wouldn't believe me." His voice was so sweet, so soothing… Ivy wanted to drown in it and never resurface. Lightning.
Ivy could barely hold herself on her knees, with Loki kneeling right in front of her, still caressing her cheek with the most pained and heartbreaking expression on his face.
"What did you tell me? What didn't I believe?" She cried in pain. Darkness.
The pain grew to the unbearable, and Ivy felt her head spin, the haze taking over any rational thought.
Suddenly soft lips touched hers, for not more than a second, yet so tenderly as if they feared to break her. "I love you…" It was nothing more than a breath, but Ivy had heard it. Lightning.
She blinked up at Loki through her tears, seeing an utterly grave, emotionless expression on his face before he rammed another blade right through her heart. Darkness.
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When Ivy woke up, the sun had already started to set far back in the west. She groaned… what a fucking weird dream. Her whole body hurt like she had been thoroughly beaten up. Then she remembered the past day and it all made a little more sense. At least the beat up feeling.
She looked around the opening then: no Loki. With a sigh she sat up, rubbing her head to maybe get rid of the strong headache that was starting to form right below her temples. Of course he wouldn't be here… He was the god of freaking lies after all. But honestly, Ivy didn't even feel that bothered by it anymore, the lies that is, not his absence, as if she had just gotten used to the betrayal and pain that was a constant companion in her life.
What had happened last night was purely due to the severe lack of sleep she had suffered from before. At least that's what she told herself to feel a little less like a clingy teen. On a normal day she would NEVER be that easy to crack, but also not that easy to stop once she actually did break down.
For now, she only felt ashamed of herself… this was supposed to be a part of her past, not her present. She didn't hurt people anymore.
Once she stood up, she tried to push everything back into the shadows where it had come from, taking a small moment to collect herself. This was a new day after all, a fresh start, and with a slightly less desperate feeling she walked a few steps, stretching out her sore muscles.
"Did I ever tell you that blond hair doesn't suit you?" Loki suddenly whispered into her ear, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of her neck.
In an instant Ivy turned around and punched him in the face as hard as she could, so hard in fact that he landed on his butt, on the floor a few feet back.
He looked equally surprised as she did herself, only frowning once she came to stand above him.
"Wow…" He said in full on sarcasm. "A simple 'Good morning Loki' would've sufficed, you know…"
"How about a 'Don't make me regret my life choices even more than I already do' for breakfast?" She stretched out a hand to help him up, but he eyed it curiously before popping himself up on his elbows.
"Is that what friends do? Mock each other even before breakfast?" He asked bemusedly.
"Yeah, they punch each other in the face, but then also help each other back up." Ivy replied with a roll of her eyes. "Now come one, I'm hungry."
With a sigh he accepted her hand, and once he stood back on his feet, he brushed the dust off his clothes with another frown. "That was a decent punch, by the way. I'm more into magic than direct combat, honestly, but you might want to meet my brother. HE can throw punches... you'd be surprised."
Ivy laughed, shaking her head to herself.. This, whatever it was between them right now, felt much better than last night. And it certainly distracted her from her terrible nightmare and the events at the bar, which she wished were also just that: a nightmare.
Maybe that was just what she should treat Loki as: a gigantic, living nightmare… but one she couldn't quite give up nonetheless. Geez, she really must be a masochist. The idea made her snort.
"You said you wouldn't run off again." She finally stated, teasing him with a small smirk. Honestly, she was quite relieved that he'd come back despite her attempts at convincing herself of the opposite thing.
"No, I merely said I would be back. That's something completely different." He winked at her in return. "Oh, and I brought you breakfast for the unlikely case that you were up already and out and about to kick my 'sorry ass' right to Hel." He pointed to a few items now lying on her blankets.
"Seriously Loki?! Wine for breakfast?" She rose an eyebrow at him.
"Well, it's breakfast for you and dinner for me, dear. Despite that, it's always wine time." He plopped down on the blanket and crossed his legs underneath himself. With another roll of her eyes, Ivy sat down next to him and began devouring the bread and fruit he had brought. Honestly, she didn't even care where he had gotten it… she was just feeling starved.
Loki on the other hand didn't touch any of the food and went straight for the wine.
"Aren't you gonna eat anything?" Ivy asked finally, frowning at him as she munched on a few grapes.
"I'm not hungry."
"And you didn't sleep at all, the entire night?"
"Who said I didn't?" He rose an eyebrow at her and threw a grape in the air only to catch it with his mouth. "There, I ate something. Happy now?"
Ivy sighed and finished her small meal. "So… Do we continue to pretend that yesterday didn't happen? I mean especially the part of me doing those..."
"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about." He interrupted with a small smirk, and then watched the clouds as they slowly drifted over the sky, colored in the shades of the sunset. "Though I'm most certain that I will never get rid of the image of you walking around the palace naked."
"I was not naked!" She groaned, nudging him in the side with her elbow.
"No, you were wearing my shirt. That doesn't really make it any more forgettable." He chuckled in return and took another sip of the wine. "Maybe alcohol will make my brain more forgetful at last."
"Gimme that!" She pulled the wine from his hands with a start, making him roll his eyes in amusement.
"Wine for breakfast? Seriously Ivy, you should be ashamed of yourself." He laughed, earning himself a sinister glare from her once she had taken a big gulp.
The bottle was empty in no time, leaving Ivy only mildly frustrated. He'd brought her something to eat… people who don't care wouldn't have.
"Why did you just bring one bottle?" She inquired with a small whine, eyeing the tall glass bottle almost sadly. It wasn't like the alcohol was affecting her much, but she surely wished it would. Would make it easier to forget and drown her feelings.
"Well, go and get yourself another if you want it so badly." He shrugged as he rose an eyebrow at her, pointing towards the direction of the city.
And while Loki had been joking, seriously joking only, he didn't expect her to actually do it. And yet, with an exaggerated sigh, Ivy grabbed Loki's wrist and they were off in a heartbeat.
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This chapter honestly needed so much editing 😅 I hope it's still somewhat enjoyable! Hugs to everyone and I hope you have a lovely time 💗
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urflowersdied · 4 years
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junebug
Long time no see! I’ve had a really rough past few months regarding finding the motivation and creativity to write, but I’ve been really wanting to get back into it. I wrote this piece in January of last year - 2019 - but left it to rot in my Google Drive... It’s not the best piece of writing, I’d say, but I feel the need to just put it up so that I hopefully can move on and post a more recent piece of writing soon-ish. Quarantine is boring me to the brink. Hope you’re all well and can get some enjoyment out of this! x
He had never cared for an animal on his own before, but Harry was convinced that every pet owner gained some sort of extrasensory perception - or rather, a sixth sense - upon deciding to house a little creature. With previous family cats, or even the hamster that his sister had convinced their parents to adopt when he was about 4 years old, his mother had handled all of the arising problems herself, usually trying to keep her children out of the sad aspects of living with a pet. Therefore, 23-year-old Harry didn’t have any pre-existing experience with spotting illness in animals, yet when he woke up one morning and saw Juniper - his little Jack Russell Terrier - not already impatiently sitting by her bowl, tail wagging about, that he sensed something was... off.
Now, two days later and Juniper still refusing to move about more than absolutely necessary (usually she would join him on his morning runs, zoom around his apartment after tennis balls and properly beg him to take her on another walk when he got in from lectures and classes), an immensely worried Harry knew he had to take action. The only issue was that veterinarian visits weren’t exactly easily affordable on a student budget. Sure, he could always contact his mother and request a little support, but he was well aware of her current financial situation and had previously made the decision to help her out rather than ask for money.
It seemed as though the stars aligned for him when he brought up his struggles to Adam, who often spared him an ear to let him vent about various issues. He had been Harry’s friend ever since they found themselves seated next to each other in the introductory lecture to their Psychology degree. In their two and a half years of friendship Adam had offered lots of (sometimes unsolicited) advice to Harry, which had rarely been useful. But this time around, Adam’s proposition might have the actual potential of leading towards a useful solution for his problem.
“Do you remember that girl David used to date? I think…. Emelie? Erica? Can’t really remember. Anyways, one time at pre-drinks I got into conversation with her - wanted to know who was silly enough to go out with that git. She told me she was studying to become a vet! Can you believe? She seemed really smart so I don’t really know what she was doing with… Not that important, actually. Few weeks later Sarah’s cat wasn’t feeling great and apparently she came by to do a check-up for free. Think I’d be able to get you her number if you wanna give that a shot!”
So here he was, stood in his kitchen at 7 am, waiting for this vet student to reply to the text message he’d sent her. Turns out Adam got the name wrong during their conversation and apparently she was actually called Emma, but that wasn’t really of any importance to him. What was important, instead, was that she would get back to Harry as quickly as possible. He was eyeing his little pup nervously, having just spent an exhausting night alongside her, and even though he knew it wasn’t really proper etiquette to contact someone before at least 8 in the morning, he really couldn’t help himself. Hopefully this Emma would be able to fulfill the high praises Adam, and upon inquiry their friend Sarah as well, had sung about her.
It seemed as though she was off to a good start, because no more than 10 minutes later he was alerted of a new text message through the bell-noise of his phone. Harry had been crouched next to Juniper, who seemed to currently prefer residing in the dog bed he had placed in the living room, but quickly shot up and slid towards the device on the kitchen counter.
“Hello Harry! Yes, this is Emma! I could come by and take a look at your pup after classes, which would be around 5. Would that work for you? I don’t want to promise that I’ll be able to do much, but I can definitely tell you what other steps you should take. Send me your address and let me know if that time works for you! x Emma”
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The light succession of knocks on his front door startled Harry. He had gotten in about an hour ago, after attending two lectures which he hadn’t completely focused on. While waiting for who he was hoping he would dub “saviour” by the end of her visit Harry had busied himself with cleaning the place up and doting on his poor doggo.
As he pulled the door open, some information lodged itself into place in his head. How could he have not made the link before? She had attended some pre-drinks and various night out’s on the arm of David, a tosser that was - sadly, really - the roommate of one of Harry’s better friends. He had never been fond of David, but remembers the moment distinctly in which he had laid eyes upon this girl now standing in front of him.
Remembers how his heart had beaten a little faster, because she truly looked like the sweetest girl around. Remembers how she had shot everyone the kindest smile as she was being introduced. Remembers how he had been convinced she must be mad and incredibly naive, for he knew no other reason why she would hang around his asshole acquaintance.
“Oh, hi! I figured it was you, but wasn’t entirely sure!” Her voice pulled Harry out of his little daydream. He felt a little taken aback, but reciprocated her enthusiastic smile and tone of voice while greeting her.
“Hey! What a surprise, didn’t know you were studying to be a vet. Thank you for stopping by, Emma.”
She toed off her shoes, discarded her winter jacket on the coat rack by the door and turned back towards him. He pretended to not notice the small once-over she gave him, for the sake of not making her uncomfortable before she just did him and his dog a huge favour. “So, where’s your pup? Juniper, is it?” Harry immediately led her towards the living room. Upon catching sight of the miserable looking animal, Emma, seemingly not being able to hold back, let out a tiny coo and immediately moved towards her.
“I’m honestly not really sure what happened. One day she was fine, coming on runs with me and going ballistic in the flat and then the next she was barely able to get up. I’ve never really cared for a dog myself before so I didn’t really know if she was just in a mood or hurt, but her situation didn’t really improve so…” Harry trailed off, keeping his eyes fixed on his dog as Emma lowered herself to the ground. The extreme amount of nervous energy coursing through his body almost made him want to chuckle. If this was how badly an ill dog affected him, how would he be able to deal with his own children in the future?
Hovering a hand over the dog’s head, Emma addressed Harry. “Are you alright with me touching her?” The young man hummed in agreement, willing to do just about everything at this point. “As I already mentioned in my text, I can’t really promise I’m gonna be able to help. I also just wanna let you know that I’ve obviously not finished my degree yet, so I’m not a legit veterinary yet. So I really need you to be aware of that. I won’t do anything that I’m not one hundred percent sure of, but I can definitely give you an assessment of her situation, at the very least.”
Harry was aware of this. It was also the information that his friend Sarah had given him. Emma was still at university, therefore not a licensed vet yet, but apparently extremely careful and trustworthy. And because taking at least a look at some other student’s sick animals was a great way to put all her training into practice, she did these sort of check ups for free. He appreciated Emma’s reiteration of this disclaimer though, and immediately let her know that he was alright with the situation.
And to be honest, had he not previously been made aware that she was still in the process of getting her degree, he probably would not have noticed any difference between her and the fully fledged veterinarian that had come round to his mother’s house a few times when he was younger. Emma had an extremely calm aura surrounding her, which put Juniper - who had been jittery every time Harry approached her - at ease quite quickly.
The next few moments introduced a concentrated silence to Harry’s living room. He didn’t quite know what to do with himself as her hands softly reached out towards different parts of Juniper’s little body, so he started gnawing on his lips and continuously shifting his weight from one leg onto the other and back. This seemed to amuse the girl on his living room floor, because she took a second to let her gaze move from the intense focus on the animal towards its agitated owner. “How about you sit down on the couch? Think you being stationary might help calm the pup down a little bit.”
So that’s what Harry did. Took a seat on the cushioning and waited for any potential questions he knew she was bound to ask him. When Emma spoke up after a few more moments, the questions she asked seemed pretty standard to him. How old was Juniper? What did she weigh? How often would he usually take her out on a walk? Did she still eat like usually? What was her behaviour like when she wasn’t feeling poorly? He answered every question she posed to the best of his abilities, but couldn’t really help and inquire himself after a while: “What do you reckon is the problem, then?”
She gracefully angled her body towards Harry’s sitting form. That was something he had been noticing the entire time she had conducted the little examination - Emma exuded grace and tranquility. She had only directed the most delicate of touches and softest words towards Juniper, and even though she had not made any sort of body contact with Harry, he had also felt immensely soothed simply by her presence. He wondered if that was just her natural demeanor or a way of handling herself she had acquired during her veterinary training. “From what you’ve been telling me about her being really energetic and playful usually, just like any Jack Russell Terrier really, I’d say it’s very likely she had some zoomies and hurt herself during. Looks and feels to me like there’s a little issue in the back of her vertebrae.”
Emma’s explanation made a lot of sense to Harry. Juniper was a very lively dog and often had little bursts of energy that she released by dashing in and out of every room in his small flat, jumping on various pieces of furniture and gliding around the wooden floors. It was likely that she had been a little overzealous and one point and gotten herself hurt without him noticing, even though that made him feel a little inadequate as a pet owner. “And… so… what happens now?”
With a few light pats on the top of Juniper’s head Emma parted from the animal and got back on her feet. “Well… Gotta be honest here, I don’t feel comfortable doing an osteopathic procedure on my own because I haven’t really mastered that training yet, but you’re in luck.” Harry motioned for her to follow him and the two of them stepped into the kitchen. He wanted to let his dog rest a little bit, and because he was sure animals understood the human language more than they let on, he located their conversation about her health to another room. “My dad’s got an animal osteopathy clinic up in Manchester. He’s supposed to be coming down to London for dinner tomorrow anyway, so if I butter him up well enough he’d probably be happy to take a detour before that and do a little session on Juniper.” After taking a little glance at Harry’s increasingly worried face - because he hadn’t ever really been aware that there were osteopaths specialised in animal care and also would any of this this hurt his pup even more? - Emma quickly added: “And don’t worry about paying him. He owes me a favour for helping out in the clinic for free during busy weekends.”
Harry hadn’t planned to tear up, he really hadn’t. Such a reaction wasn’t usually in the cards for him - sure, compared to his friends he was quite the emotional fella, but he was studying to be a psychologist and usually had his wits about him - but the gratitude he felt towards this tiny helper, who had just randomly appeared in his and his dog’s life, was indescribable. Here stood this gentle young woman, who had made time in her probably super busy and hectic student schedule to take a closer look at his dog because he struggled to afford a real vet visit, and who had miraculously calmed Juniper, who had been nervous and in pain, down seemingly by just entering the building, and now she was offering him her dad’s osteopathic services, also free of charge? How could he possibly hold it together in the face of such kindness?
Apparently, his depiction of emotion was a little surprising to Emma. With widened eyes she observed as he tried to get a grip, seemingly not really knowing how to approach this man who she had only spoken to a couple of brief times.”Sorry, sorry. That’s… Yeah, that’d be amazing. I’ve just been really stressed about this and you’re being really nice and just… thank you, really. Sorry.” Harry shot her an appreciative smile while willing the moisture in his eyes to subside quicker.
Catching a glimpse of the digital clock on his microwave, Emma let out a surprised noise and made a move towards the front door. “You’re alright, don’t worry about it. I’ll text you early tomorrow to figure out what time would be good for you, yeah? I’ve got to dash now, though. Got a paper to finish for this class of mine”, she said as she tucked her feet back into the black boots she had entered his flat in.
The last thing she said to Harry as they parted ways for the night made his cheeks light up with a rosy glow. Because he really had tried to clean his living space up well enough before she arrived earlier, wanting to seem put-together and rational for this (as he then had believed) stranger. It seemed as though he either hadn’t done a good enough job or Emma had, in addition to all of her other attributes he had taken notice of, a keen eye for observations. “Oh yeah, I think it’s super endearing that you’re willing to sleep on your couch to make her more comfortable. You seem like a great owner, don’t stress about it.”
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The shrieking laughter of his friends still reached Harry, even as he distanced himself from them and closed the door that connected Adam’s living room to his kitchen. He hadn’t really been in the mood to get hammered tonight, much less to make an appearance at some random bloke’s birthday party, but here he stood anyways. Already empty wine glass in his left hand, waiting for everyone’s intoxication levels to rise so that they could make their way out. The sooner Harry and his mates got to that celebration, the sooner it would be acceptable for him to duck out and return to the safe, warm, and especially calm confines of his flat.
Harry really didn’t pay attention to his surroundings as he was scavenging various shelves for the bottle of wine Adam had shooed him off of the comfortable armchair for. Adam was always a keen but awful host. He didn’t have any quarrels about their group of friends hanging out at his little apartment, but would make everyone else in attendance tend to any arising hosting duties - like sticking your head into the deep unknown of his cluttered cupboards to locate a new bottle of red. When a charming giggle erupted from behind him, a startled Harry turned around immediately. As his gaze fell upon his current favorite person in the world - yes, he was aware that he had a knack for dramatising - the alarmed heartbeat in his chest declined towards a way slower thud. “Don’t scare me like that.” He raised his hand to his chest theatrically in an attempt to garner a repeat of that wonderfully melodic giggle, and succeeded. After a few short seconds of exchanging glances and smiles, a thought crossed his mind: “Not to sound rude, but what are you doing here?”
Emma took a step closer to him and grabbed one of the long-stemmed wine glasses that had been placed on the kitchen counter by Sarah earlier in the evening. “Honestly, not completely sure. Adam - he’s your friend, right? - texted me out of the blue and so did Sarah. Said that even though I’m, and I quote, ‘thankfully’ not seeing David anymore I’m still invited to hang out with the gang so… Here I am, I guess.” The bright smile which appeared on her face was almost enough to lessen the annoyance rising up Harry’s throat. Almost.
No matter how hard he tried to keep mum, the endeared exclamations about his new acquaintance just broke past the barrier his lips had tried to keep aloft. Sitting in another early morning lecture, Adam had asked how the meeting with “little miss doctor” had gone - because of course that nosy shit was going to pester him about it - and Harry just… erupted. Had entertained his friend’s digs for information and explained how much of a calming effect the vet-in-training had supplied not only to his dog but him as well. How (pleasantly) surprised he had been to learn that he actually kind of knew the woman that appeared by his front door. And Harry didn’t really regret bringing Adam up to speed on that first meeting - he had arranged it, had he not? -, but rather he was embarrassed by his retelling of the following evening.
Emma and her dad had knocked on his door shortly after 6, excuses spilling from the woman’s lips about her class had run late and the older man slightly eyeing up Harry from behind his daughter’s body blocking the doorway. After a few initial moments of awkwardness, which Harry wasn’t really sure of why they had arisen, the trio moved towards Juniper’s sleepy figure, still located in the living room.
While her father went to work on his new patient - and now Harry was aware from whom the girl standing next to him had inherited her vast amount of calmness - Emma turned towards its owner. “She’ll be back to knocking into all your furniture during her zoomies in no time.” And man, had Harry felt assured by these softly spoken words.
During the whole procedure Harry fought a little battle in his mind. He didn’t really know this girl at all, did he? Hadn’t interacted much with Emma other than run-ins with her latched onto David’s arm - he had thought about that relationship quite a lot the previous night and he really could not come to a logical conclusion as to how that had established itself, but he was grateful that she seemed to have seen the light and dumped him a while back - and her visit to his sick dog which had taken place a mere 25 hours back. Yet she had displayed such an openness to him, that he just felt incredibly indebted to her.
He had wanted to repay her in some way, and perhaps selfishly use that opportunity to spend more time in her enchanting presence, but with her father there he could not find the right words to extend her a casual dinner invitation. And exactly this sentiment had Harry really hung up when he described the events of the past two days to Adam. Harry had wanted to ask Emma out, but in the end just couldn’t gather up the courage and he felt his chance had now passed. Juniper felt a lot better and there was no need to seek Emma’s veterinary advice.
Turns out, Harry’s friends weren’t as complacent as him and had decided to take matters into their own hands, inviting her to their get-together not purely out of kindness but also to create another opportunity for their friend to get off his arse and ask the sweet girl out already. And Harry was grateful, for sure, he just wasn’t prepared. He would have appreciated a little head’s up.
As it currently stood though, the evening was shaping itself up to becoming intriguing.
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