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ruth-writes · 4 months ago

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ruthswip Chapter 1

Chapter 1 of a rewrite of something I've been working on for a long time.

Content warnings: physical abuse (explicit scenes), homophobia

Jamie's POV

One-hundred and fifty-five days. That meant five months and two days. It had been almost half a year.

Half a year, which meant we were getting close to our first performance. Not that we were in any way ready. Lisa was supposed to be doing a step in front of me so we’d form a line facing the audience, but she kept stepping on my foot and tripping instead. If I had to hear the same few notes of This is Me one more time until she finally got it, I was rip my ears off.

Ms. Page looked as frustrated as I felt, but she knew how to handle it. She was exactly the kind of person who should be a teacher, never losing her patience or yelling at us. I wondered how she’d managed not to turn bitter like every other adult I knew. I considered asking her for tips, but it was probably too late for me anyway.

Lisa stepped on my little toe this time, the heel of her boot making me wince. “Sorry,” she apologized, as if that would make the throbbing pain magically disappear.

I glanced at Holden, who was watching us from the front of the room. He should be practicing his solo, but there wasn’t much of a point when the backup dancers couldn’t even get far enough for his cue. At least it meant we could make faces at each other, like the one I gave him now. He answered with a small grin, making my insides squirm. Even more when people looked over their shoulders to follow his gaze. I quickly fixed my gaze back on the gym floor, blending into the background as best as I could.

Ms. Page finally gave up on nobody tripping and told us to just try and get through the whole dance. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be, even though my feet were feeling very bruised by the end of it. I’d managed to do some improv to avoid the worst of the tripping, which Ms. Page praised me for while simultaneously scolding everyone else to practice more at home. Everyone grumbled their acknowledgement, and we were finally allowed to leave.

Outside, Michael asked, “Who wants to go to Taco Bell?” Michael was a senior, and he had a car.

A few people agreed, but Michael specifically looked in our direction. “Holden?”

Holden looked at me, even though I wasn’t the one being asked. “I think I’m just gonna go home,” I told him.

Holden turned to Michael. “Yeah, me too. I still have a lot of homework to do.”

Micheal rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. You used to hang out all the time.” Everyone knew what Michael wasn’t saying out loud. If there was any doubt, the glare he was giving me cemented it. Holden used to hang out last year, before he met me.

Holden noticed it, too, his usual carefree smile turning into a slight frown. “Well, things change, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turned on his heel and stalked toward the bus, me hurrying to catch up with him.

I hesitated when he threw himself on the seat at the very back, still glaring. “Are you mad at me?” I came out sounding a lot more like whine than I’d intended.

His expression immediately softened as he hurried to make room for me on the bench. “No, of course not!” When I sat down, he pressed a kiss to my temple and added, “I could never be mad at you.”

I relaxed into his arms.

If I was any good at drawing, I’d be able to draw Holden’s room purely from memory by now. I’d rarely spent a single day anywhere else for the past five months, and most of my time was spent staring at the walls while he worked on his homework. I’d given up trying with mine a while ago. I knew there was no point, especially in the afternoon once my Adderall had worn off.

Holden’s room was how I always imagined mine would be if I could decorate it the way I wanted to. There were two framed posters on the biggest wall, plants on the windowsill that he somehow managed to keep alive, and pieces of furniture he’d been allowed to pick out himself. Best of all was the wall of pictures over his desk. The pictures ranged from him as a baby ‘til now. Some were with friends, some with his family and some with me, and everyone was smiling in each one. I knew that even if I tried to create a wall like that, there wouldn’t be enough people who to cover it with.

That was fine, though. I could entertain myself, like I did now by opening The Battle of the Labyrinth again. I was rereading the entire series while I waited for The House of Hades to come out, even though I knew it all by heart. If I had to recite that instead of state capitals in school, I’d have A’s all around. When I was little, I used to think my ADHD was proof I was a demigod. I kept waiting for the day I’d be whisked to Camp Half-Blood and meet my real family. Of course, I’d have found a way to convince Chiron to let Alex come, too. Even in my wildest fantasies, I’d never considered leaving him for a second.

I jumped slightly when Holden sat down next to me suddenly, holding his laptop. He grimaced. “Oh God, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I assured him. “Are you done?”

He nodded and we cuddled up next to each other, my head resting on his shoulder. Holden tried opening Netflix, but announced after a few moments, “The Wifi’s not working. One of us has to go and reset the router.”

We looked at each other, having a tiny battle of who could do the best puppy-dog gaze.

“I don’t want to get up,” he complained.

“Well, neither do I,” I countered.

“I reset it yesterday!” he protested.

“Did you? I don’t remember.”

“I’m pretty sure I did.”

“I’m pretty sure you didn’t.”

He shut his laptop. “I guess we’re not watching anything then.”

That was a move I hadn’t been expecting. “Are you serious?” I pouted.

“Hey, if it’s that important to you, you can go,” he pointed out.

I thought about it. “Yeah, no.”

He laughed, leaning in close. “I know something we can do that we don’t have to leave the bed for.”

I smirked. “Yeah?”

We started off slow, kissing each other gently, but then letting things get more heated. He hummed when I kissed down his neck. I loved giving him hickeys. I wished he could give them to me too, but they’d be much too visible. I smiled into my kissed when he slowly started inching his hand up my shirt, but then frowned when he paused. I stopped to see what he was looking at.

“This one’s knew,” he commented, gently touching the fresh bruise on my chest.

I winced and he immediately withdrew his hand. “Sorry,” he apologized.

“It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt that much, I barely even noticed it,” I lied.

Alex would have known I was lying in a heartbeat, but Holden didn’t know me as well and looked slightly relieved. “Well, that’s good.” He pulled my shirt down again, covering the bruise. “What happened?”

“Nothing, really,” I explained. “He was just awake longer than usual and ran into me when I was coming home.”

I could tell Holden really didn’t like that answer. “Jamie, I think we should tell someone.”

I rolled my eyes. We’d had this conversation before, and he knew my answer hadn’t changed. “No.”

“Just one adult, Jamie,” he pleaded. “It can be anyone. If I told my parents, they’d know what to do.”

I struggled to keep my voice level as I bluntly stated, “They won’t because there’s nothing anyone can do.”

Holden just didn’t get it. “They could call the police,” he argued stubbornly.

I wondered what it was like living with such wholehearted trust in the system. It must be nice. “If we call the police, he’ll put on a nice smile for them an beat me half to death when they’re gone.” I knew I was right, because that was exactly how it had happened when my second-grade teacher called them. Afterwards, the hospital had sent me right back home to him.

A tear rolled down Holden’s cheek and he gave a sniffle, which pissed me off. He wasn’t the one who was in danger here. But he didn’t stop crying, and I guessed I felt a little bad, so I let him cry into my shirt. He was just worried and didn’t know any better. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to scare you,” I soothed him as I stroked his hair.

He sniffed. “I’m scared somethings gonna happen to you.”

“Well yeah, so am I,” I said a bit too bitterly, and immediately regretted it. But Holden never got mad at me, so he just hugged me even more tightly.

“Jamie! Holden! Dinner’s ready!” We heard his dad call from downstairs. They’d started simply assuming that I was eating with them a while back.

We went to wash our hands, spending an extra minute to wash away any evidence of Holden’s tears.

“Will you boys set the table?” Matt asked us once we arrived downstairs. He was carrying a large steaming pot, so I carefully maneuvered around him to get to the silverware.

We were having spaghetti. The homemade tomato sauce was a lot better than the cheap store-bought one Alex used to heat up in the microwave. I was pretty sure the strange chucks I was picking at were actual tomatoes. I tentatively poked a small one with my fork and forced myself to swallow it. I’d always hated eating in front of other people, especially when it wasn’t one of my safe foods. Having to pretend I wasn’t literally choking most things down was exhausting.

“So, how was everyone’s day?” Anna asked like she did every day. I’d only been dealing with it for five months, I couldn’t understand how Holden had managed it his entire life.

“It was fine, I guess,” Holden mumbled, trying to get out of the question as always. I’d come to realize it was their ritual, because Anna always managed to get all the details out of him in the end. There wasn’t a single aspect of his life Holden was allowed to keep private.

“You guess?” Anna pried.

Holden busied himself trying to roll the spaghetti onto his fork. He gave up on the polite way after a few tries and started rolling the fork in the air, which was pretty cute to watch.

“Holden, don’t play with your food,” Anna said gently but firmly.

He pouted. “I’m eating it!”

Whenever he talked back to his parents, I prepared myself for someone to start screaming before I remembered that wasn’t gonna happen here. Instead, Matt made Holden watch while he showed him the correct way to roll spaghetti. “Jamie’s doing it,” he pointed out. “Maybe you should watch him.”

I hated it when they did that. Pitted us against each other. Couldn’t he have just shown it to him and left it at that? Now, I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, and it was making my skin crawl.

Thankfully, Anna remembered that it was still supposed to be Holden’s turn in the spotlight. “How’s your solo coming along?”

Holden nodded with his mouth stuffed full of spaghetti, which Anna patiently waited for him to swallow. “We were mostly practicing the beginning of the routine today,” he finally explained.

Anna frowned. “Still? Your performance is next week.”

Holden snorted. “Yeah, and it’s gonna be a… bad show.” I knew he’d narrowly stopped himself from saying shitshow.

Anna didn’t mention his hiccup. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

She spent the next few minutes prying about how Ms. Page was handling it, how the moral was among the dancers (what did that even mean?) and figuring out exactly what Holden had ‘learned’ in school today. It was exhausting to watch, but I desperately wished it would go on forever, because once she was satisfied with him, she fixed her gaze on me.

“What about you, Jamie? What did you learn today?”

This was always the most uncomfortable part, because Anna definitely thought I was being rude when I didn’t answer, but I truly didn’t have a single idea what my teachers had droned on about on any given day. I could barely remember my classes. After what felt like an eternity, Anna gave up on the subject, but she wasn’t completely done with me.

“How are your parents? Are they still working hard?” Anna thought the reason my parents were so nonexistent was because they were workaholics. She’d kind of come up with it on her own, and I’d never corrected her.

“Um, yeah,” I replied, picking at my food. Everyone else had already served themselves seconds, but my plate was still half full.

Anna and Matt shared a look that I didn’t understand, then Matt cleared his throat. “We were thinking of maybe inviting them over to dinner some time. You know, since you’re here so often, and we’ve never met them. They might want to know who their son is spending all of his time with.” He gave a light chuckle at the end.

Red alert. Red alert. Red alert, my brain blared. Had Matt’s gaze always been so piercing? Why was my fork suddenly so heavy? It slipped out of my hand and landed on the plate with a lout clatter, making everyone at the table jump. “Sorry!” I exclaimed, quickly picking it up again.

“It’s alright,” Matt said, even though he looked slightly frazzled. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, so he looked to his wife for help.

She seemed as lost as him, but she didn’t let it stop her from trying something. “Jamie, honey, is everything… alright?”

My heart was pounding so intensely I could feel it in my fingertips. I set my fork down so I didn’t make the same mistake again and put on my best mask. “Yeah! Sorry, I was thinking of something else. I’ll ask my parents, but I honestly don’t think they’ll be free anytime soon. You've seen how much they work.”

My sudden change in attitude didn’t seem to convince Matt and Anna. I cursed myself for getting too comfortable and letting my mask slip.

“Okay, you do that,” Anna said. “But if you need anything, you can tell us, okay?”

No matter how annoying Anna was, my heart warmed at her genuineness. I almost felt guilty lying to her. Almost. It was a necessary means. I flashed her a brilliant smile. “Thanks, but really, everything’s fine.”

She gave me an uncertain smile back, then transferred the spotlight to Matt. He excelled in it, telling her every conversation he’d had that day almost word for word. Afterwards, he hung onto every sentence as she did the same for him.

Matt always drove me home after dinner. Usually he put on his favorite radio station that only played The Beatles, but today it was silent. Maybe he wanted to give me the room to tell him something. I liked Matt a lot more than I liked Anna. He never forced things out of you, so when we talked, it was always about things we both genuinely wanted to say. I imagined what would happen if I told him about my bruises. He’d freak out, but still manage to keep his cool. He’d wait for me to finish talking and then figure out what to do. He’d only want to call the cops, though, no matter what I said. So I kept my mouth shut.

We said our goodbyes, and I watched him drive off before walking home from the house I always told him was mine. It was only a block away from my actual front door. Taking off, my shoes, I unlocked the front door as slowly as I could before tiptoeing through and closing it a millimeter a second. Then came the stairs, which I inched along, making sure to avoid the creaky ones. If that even mattered with how loudly I could hear the blood rushing through my ears. After maybe ten minutes, I reached the top, where Alex’s bedroom door was waiting open for me. It was right next to mine, which had remained firmly shut since he’d left. I pulled myself under the covers that had stopped smelling like him a long time ago and fell into an uneasy sleep.

The next week went by in a blur. Ms. Page made us put in insane hours of extra practice, even managing to pull us out of class, and by the end of it we were actually kind of okay. Lisa wasn’t even stepping on me anymore, and Ms. Page seemed to be finding the joy in her job again.

Then it was an hour before the show, all the parents were trickling into the auditorium, and things were absolutely chaotic backstage. People were running around looking for their missing props, then crashing into others who were pacing out of nervousness. I found a quiet corner and watched. We were all in basic black outfits except for Holden, who had a white skintight shirt. It made him look pretty hot as he frantically tried to help Ms. Page keep everything in order. I saw him scan the room until his eyes fell on me. He tilted his head, silently asking if I was okay. I gave him a thumbs up, and he immediately went back to yelling orders.

Once we were under the blinding lights of the stage, adrenaline took over. I loved these moments, when I didn’t have to think and my body just did. It gave me a few precious moments of peace that were over way too soon, especially considering all the hours of sweat and tears we’d put into the routine. It was humbling realizing that we’d needed half a year to get a few minutes of simple steps right so that our parents could politely clap and forget about it the next day. The adrenaline was already mostly gone by the time Anna and Matt greeted us after the show.

“You did so well!” Anna squealed. “I’m so proud of you both.”

Matt agreed with her, and I let them hug me after they’d nearly suffocated Holden. At first it was awkward, but then I realized I didn’t want to let go. I might have been imagining it, but Matt did seem to let me hold onto him a little longer than normal before they both started fawning over Holden’s solo. I happily joined in, seeing as he had been incredible. He was all smiles, eating the attention up like the shining star he was. And he was my shining star.

I didn’t know what came over me. Maybe it was seeing him so happy, maybe Matt’s hug had given me a false sense of security. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek.

After that, everything seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. Holden blushed slightly, and Anna and Matt laughed. Anny got out her phone to take a picture of us, but then her eyes fixed on something behind us. I heard someone gasp and then a voice that never failed to make my blook run cold said, “What the fuck?”

The first hit slammed into my head before I had the time to react. People screamed. I stumbled, dots in front of my eyes, and Holden caught me.

“Get your hands off my son, you fucking fag!”

He was ripped away from me and I fell, Something slammed into my face, then my arm, then my ribs. I was pretty sure I heard a crack. More people were screaming now, some of them calling my name. I ignored them, choosing to curl into a ball and close my eyes. I accepted the beatings until finally, everything went black.

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exanimateisacomic · 1 year ago

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Levi was led outside by Reuben. It seems that he was offering a chance for them to improve their relationship.

They ended up at an abandoned warehouse district only a few miles from the house.

“So what- what are we doing here?” Levi asked as he went to sit down.

“Oh, we’re meeting some of my friends.” Reuben said with a smile.

Levi suddenly felt uneasy. “F-friends?” He repeated. “Oh, y-you did not say anything about friends.”

Levi then saw something dart past him quickly. He jumped as he tried to see what it was “uh-“

Suddenly he was shoved from behind off his seat and fell to the ground. “Oof”

Levi looked up and saw that there were now three other younger looking demons, similar to Reuben’s age. He cowered and looked at them with confusion.

“Oh-are these your f-friends?” He said with a worried smile.

“Yeah. Fellas, this is Levi. The guy who moved in with my folks. Levi, meet Justin, Dustin, and Austin.”

Levi raised his head and was easing a hand for them to shake “Nice to me-“

The taller one, Justin, delivered a steel toed kick to his stomach. Levi let out a groan and a shocked look spread across his face.

“So this is the fucker you were talking about?” Justin said

Reuben nodded. “Yep.”

The thinner one, Dustin, grabbed Levi by the arm to raise him up before punching him in the face. Levi let out an “ugh” before falling back down, tears now rolling down his face

Levi tried to talk “Reuben- why is this”

The shorter one, Austin, silenced him with a swift kick to his back.

The three continued to kick and punch him, reducing Levi to a sobbing bruised mess.

He laid curled up and tried to protect himself, but the punches and kicks kept coming.

At some point they stopped. Levi dared not to move in a vain effort that they think he’s dead.

He was wrong.

Suddenly, Austin grabbed him by his longer horn and dragged him towards a dilapidated wall and slams him against it, breaking Levi’s curled up pose and held him against the wall.

Justin reached into his jacket pocket, Levi noting that his hand was clad in a leather glove. He pulled out a closed switchblade knife, Levi could smell the oil used to live the hinge and-

His eyes widened in fear“W-wrought iron?” He managed to get out before getting punched again.

Reuben suddenly jumped from his sitting position “woah woah hey wait guys, I just wanted you to rough him up, what-“

Justin turned around and flicked the blade open in front of Reuben. “Listen you poser, you don’t know how much this freak goes for. He’s got a bounty on him that would set me-“

“Don’t forget us” Austin piped up, grinning menacingly. Dusting giving a nod in agreement.

Justin sneered at the, before turning back to face Reuben “-us up for the rest of our lives. And all it took was to hang out with a shit head like you.” He pointed the knife at him “With your shit head life, your shithead dad and your stuck up bicycle of a mo-“

Just then, Justin’s head exploded as a suppressed shot rang out.

Reuben jolted back as blood splattered on his face. He fell to the ground as he watched the lifeless body fall limp, the knife clattering on the concrete.

“What the fuck?!” Dustin yelled out just as another shot rang out, causing his neck to explode in a cascade of blood. He fell, choking on his own blood as he gurgled his remaining life away. Reuben looked on as he saw the life leave his eyes.

Austin started to hyperventilate seeing his brothers shot from an unseen assailant. “Who’s there?!” He shouted, drawing a steak knife from his jacket as he kept Levi pinned to the wall “wherever you are, I’ll kill this fucker right here” then holding the knife to Levi as he winced away as the blade rested on his neck.

Eliza peered through her sniper scope as she trained her optics on the blathering idiot that had Levi pinned. He pressed the comm in her ear.

“Lu, I’ve got sights on Levi and Reuben. There’s still one of the bogies holding Levi at Knifepoint, you got him?”

Luis snuck up until he was behind the wall that Levi was pinned on

“I’m right behind them.” He said, cocking the hammer on his revolver and resting the barrel in between the bricks and mortar “watch this.” He said to her

Eliza released the command looked on.

Austin looked around panicked “You hear me? I. WILL-“

BLAM!!

Levi shut his eyes as the shot rang out near his ear as he saw the goon’s head turn into a tumbling mess of brain matter and skull fragments, the body springing away from him and falling with a defiant SPLAT.

Levi looked on, holing a hand up to his ear in an attempt to ease the pain from the shot. He jumped when he felt a hand rest in his shoulder but relaxed when he saw Luis’ face.

“Luis.” He muttered

“Hey, I’m here Bud” he said calmly before embracing him in a hug “you’re gonna be okay.” Levi tightly clung onto him.

Reuben got up and looked on. “What- but- I-“ he squinted as he saw who was helping Levi “Dad? How did you?”

Eliza walked up behind him, swinging the sniper rifle behind her shoulder and grasped at the strap. “We always track you when you head out. Especially when you meet up with your…’friends’. “ she said, wincing at the last word.

Reuben looked up at her “So, you-you’ve known?”

She looked down at him “Of course, you’re our son and this place is really fucking dangerous. If I could, I’d keep you in your room like Levi.”

“That’s true.” Said Luis as he walked up to them, Levi resting his head on his shoulder. “But it was my idea to let you have some freedom. So this was the compromise, we’d keep a close eye on you. Hell, I almost told Liza here to hang back.” He gave Levi’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze “I’m lucky I didn’t. We knew these guys were trouble…but not like this.”

Reuben felt sick. His stomach somersaulting in his body. He looked down at the knife on the ground “Oh god, I almost got killed.”

Levi locked on him, his face bruised and starting to swell up “No, you almost got me killed.” He said coldly, almost sounding like Seth.

Reuben looked to him. “I- wuh-“

Levi continued “I never did anything to you, Not directly. I stayed out of your way. I wanted to be friends, or at least someone you could talk to. You could talk to Seth just fine…”

Levi’s brow scrunched up in distress and sadness as tears rolled down his face once more “but it is just me you have problems with and I-I just do not understand why…why?…” he dove his face into Luis’ shoulder and started to sob heavily. Luis hugged him “Okay Levi, I’ll take you back home. My car is just over here” he said as he slowly started walking past Reuben and Eliza.

Reuben was left standing there with his mom. “My car is nearby too. You’re riding with me.” She reached into her field jacket and pulled out a pack of wet wipes, and practically shoved them into his hands “clean yourself up, we’ll talk more at home.”

#exanimate story idea #levi morris #reuben lynch #eliza lynch #luis lynch #personal project #exanimate

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bayonetbunny · 2 years ago

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So I realize I haven't posted anything in awhile lol. So have a little one shot between my bunny WoL and Thancred, that may or may not make it into my longer fic lol. Set sometime after the Ifrit fight but before the Sylph Management quests.

pairing: thancred waters x viera!warrior of light (Saryu Eventide)

word count: 955

rating: g (pure fluff)

He catches her nosing through the kitchens that night.

Saryu doesn't suffer insomnia very frequently, so when sleep eludes her this night, she doesn't know what to do with the wakefulness. Daenne is the opposite, and the fact that he is asleep means she will not under any circumstances wake him. No, this is a problem for her to solve on her own, and that means being out of the room if nothing else. She slips from the room with barely a creak of the door and pads softly through the quiet halls of the Waking Sands. Her belly gurgles insistently. Kitchen it is.

The kitchen is one of the few rooms with a window, the glass panes set just above the pier. Moonlight pours in, washing the space in silvery blue, and she's glad as she's rather forgotten a lantern. It's while she's kneeling on the counter, rifling through the well stocked cabinets that she hears something.

Or rather, someone.

"Ah, and here I thought we might have a mouse problem," says a low male voice, just beyond the purview of the cabinet.

Saryu yelps in surprise, and it's only the fact that she holds onto the shelf that she doesn't fall from her perch. She swings the cabinet door shut, to see Thancred, a bemused smile on his face.

"My apologies. Have I startled you, my sweet?"

She pouts, returning to her cabinet foraging. "No, I always like to yelp once or twice while getting a midnight snack."

"Interesting. Does it improve the flavor?"

She snorts, rolling her eyes though he can't see. "Oh yes, it gives a certain lightness to it. Infuses it with a touch of air if you can believe it."

He chuckles, and she listens to the swish of his clothes as he moves to another cabinet, taking up a rifling of his own. A moment later, she curses, unable to find what she is looking for. She feels a tap on her shoulder, and closes the cabinet to see Thancred giving her a knowing grin.

"Looking for this, silly rabbit?"

He holds a jar shaped like a spriggan, its curled ears serving as a lid. The smell of cookies, faint but true, wafts from it. She lets out a small cheer and snatches the cookie jar, letting her feet dangle as she sits on the counter to eat them. Thancred retrieves what appears to be pretzels for himself, and leans his hip against the counter as he tucks in to his chosen snack.

They eat like this, in companionable silence for several minutes.

When her stomach has stopped its protests, she glances at him, the moonlight washing him in soft white. He's not in sleep clothes, but properly dressed. Had he…just returned? There's no smell of alcohol on him, so he likely hasn't been drinking, or at least not much. There are bruise-like circles under his eyes, and he looks just a bit disheveled; were it anyone else but Thancred she wouldn't have thought anything of it. But his hair looks less like he's brushed it and more like he's simply run his hands through it, his tunic just a bit askance. He's running himself ragged, she thinks. Her heart lurches, thinking how alike he and her brother are, always, always taking on ever more burden on behalf of others.

"A portrait lasts longer, you know."

She blinks, ears twitching as he takes a casual bite of his pretzels. He's looking at her now, brown eyes dark like the bed of a river.

"So it may," she says slowly, and now that he's said it, she wants to draw him. "But you don't sit still long enough."

His eyes widen just a fraction, and he laughs, dry and humorless.

"There's no rest for the wicked, I'm afraid."

"Then they should make an exception," she replied sourly. He searches her gaze for a moment, and suddenly he's in front of her, pressing against her knees, hands splayed on either side of her.

"Are you worried about me?"

Saryu swallows as a searing heat spreads from cheek to chest. Standing this close, he smells of the pretzels he was eating, and spice, and the cool air of Vesper Bay at night. She's tempted to lean into him; he's warm and her skin prickles with cold. Thancred stares at her, gaze soft as he takes in her face, her neck, her ears. He draws a finger across her nose, tracing the line of freckles there, and then down her neck, and over her collar, and gods, but it’s like levin through her. She shivers at the touch, at the smoldering look in his eyes. Why must he look at her like that? It sets her heart to racing a malm a minute, and she thinks she must say something to break the tension building between them—

"Do you think," he murmurs, taking a silvery lock of her hair between his fingers, "that the sky misses you at night?"

She blinks, clears her throat a few times, trying to find her voice. "W-what?"

“I should think it might,” he continues, and tugs that lock of hair, the brief, sharp pain eliciting a small gasp from her. “Though I must begrudge any attempts it may make to have you return. I rather like having the stars here in front of me.”

Oh. She forgets to breathe for a moment, and she thinks, no, she wants—

A loud clatter; she’s dropped the cookie jar, which she had forgotten she was holding. The sound breaks the strange air about them. Thancred breathes out slowly through his nose and steps back, and she nearly cries out at the loss of his warmth. He gives her a small, tired smile.

“You should get some rest, silly rabbit. I have a feeling the days ahead will prove to be busy.” And then he bids her good night, disappearing through the door like the shadow that he is.

#ffxiv #ffxiv fanfic #final fantasy xiv #thancred x wol #viera wol #thancred waters #wol x thancred

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vioofc · 14 days ago

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Oc info dump

Aamon is a very important character for me and is one of my favorites, while as for Solar they’re one of the oldest characters that I’ve had that are still living in my head and the one who went trough the most changes, both in their design and characterization. So putting the littlest details in my drawings of them to hint into their story is one of my favorite things to do.

Something very important about them is that Solar is unnatural being, without any emotions or feelings for anything or anybody, they’re also a big liar and mimics emotions in order to get what they want. In contrast of Aamon who, despite their intimidating and aggressive first impression, is a being who is very alive and feels very strong emotions, specially regarding Solar, They’re the being who they feel the strongest emotions about. So whenever I made drawings of them I thought, how could I depict that major but subtle difference between the two of them? And so I thought about stuff that humans usually dislike that happen to them but shows a strong sense of emotion and life to them, making it very strong on Aamon, but missing in Solar.

For example, there’s this one sketch I made. It looks wholesome at first glance right?

Well if you look closer into it, you can see very clear differences in how Aamon and Solar express themselves.

In Aamon, they’re very flustered and nervous, having some sweat in their face and their ears pointing down to indicate embarrassment, while they’re also trying to hide that emotion by looking away and putting their hand in front of their mouth. Their shoulders are straight, there’s a grin in their mouth and their eyebrows are very tensed. They have a lot of emotion and exaggeration into their feelings and they feel genuine

While as for Solar, their expression of their emotions are very subtle, still noticeable, but not even close as tense as Aamons, there’s some blush but it’s almost unnoticeable, making it seem how the feelings Solar has for Aamon are much weaker and smaller than Aamon has for Solar. Also, one of their eyes is closed and they’re covering their mouth, but instead of hiding it from Aamon(like Aamon is doing to Solar), Solar is hiding it from the cámara, indicating how they are hiding something they don’t want anyone to know, not even the viewers. Their eyes and eyebrows are relaxed, no sign of sweat and there’s not a single wrinkle or “imperfection” to be found, giving that subtle inhuman look I wanted to go for.

This is not to glaze my work btw, I just wanted to make a little info dump about my characters and I wanted to explore my own work in how I usually do to other people’s work in order to criticize myself and see how I could improve the way I express stuff in my drawings

(Plus I wanted and excuse to yap about my ocs but that not important)

#art #artist #oc #oc art #oc artist #original character #info dump #oc info dump

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kanisema-blog · 5 months ago

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Love Bet

Chapter 19

I arrived at the construction site early in the morning, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. The air was cool, filled with the scent of freshly turned earth and sawdust. Jay Absom, the Construction Superintendent, was already there, overseeing the preparations. He greeted me with a warm smile as I approached.

"Morning, Jeya. Ready to see your vision come to life?" he asked, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

I nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. "Absolutely. It's always amazing to see a project move from paper to reality."

Jay chuckled. "Well, you're in good hands. I make sure everything runs smoothly. I manage the crew, coordinate the materials, and handle any issues that come up. And I brought a special guest today." He gestured towards a playful golden retriever bounding around the site.

I smiled, crouching down to pet the dog. "Who's this little guy?"

"That's Max. He loves coming to the site. Keeps the morale up," Jay said with a grin.

Max wagged his tail enthusiastically as I scratched behind his ears. "He's adorable. A nice distraction from all the stress."

Jay nodded. "Definitely. Alright, let's get to work. We've got a lot to do."

I spent the morning watching the crew start laying the foundation, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. This mansion was going to be something special, and despite everything with Felix, I was determined to make it perfect.

After a few hours, I headed back to the firm. My desk was piled high with sketches, blueprints, and notes. I needed to review everything and ensure the construction team had all the information they needed.

As I settled into my chair, Rheiny walked by, rubbing her arm. "Ugh, my arm is killing me," she complained.

I looked up, concerned. "What happened?"

"Just overworked, I guess. Too much drawing and typing," she replied, wincing slightly.

"Take it easy, Rheiny. Maybe get it checked out if it doesn't improve," I suggested.

Yana, passing by, stopped and leaned against my desk. "Hey, Jeya. How's the mansion project going?"

I smiled, feeling a bit of the day's excitement returning. "It's going great. We started laying the foundation today. Jay's team is fantastic."

Yana nodded. "That's good to hear. I can't wait to see the finished product. It's going to be amazing."

I spent the rest of the day engrossed in my work, occasionally interrupted by the chatter of my coworkers. Despite the noise and distractions, I managed to stay focused, making sure every detail was perfect.

When the workday finally ended, I gathered my things and headed to the parking lot. The drive home was uneventful, my mind occupied with thoughts of the mansion and the progress we were making.

At home, I followed my usual routine. I made myself a simple dinner, washed the dishes, and took a long, relaxing bath. As I brushed my teeth and went through my skincare routine, I thought about the day and the conversations I had.

Settling into bed, I scrolled through Instagram, looking at pictures of beautiful homes and architectural designs. It was both inspiring and a bit overwhelming, seeing the incredible work others were doing. But it also fueled my determination to make this mansion project a success.

As I finally drifted off to sleep, my dreams were filled with images of the mansion, each room coming to life with every detail meticulously planned. I saw Felix there, walking through the halls, but I pushed those thoughts away, focusing instead on the future and what lay ahead.

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theriu · 1 month ago

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PART 2

Another fun part about your body resetting with each time loop is that the whole "skipping the sleeping hours" part doesn't take a toll. Sometimes I'll take a loop off (after my morning no-coffee latte and Protagonist snoop) and nap the day away, but it isn't necessary. That's the main reason I do it—I'm a little paranoid of what my sleep schedule will be like when the Problem gets solved if I'm out of practice with sleeping. Thank the Lord I wasn't particularly groggy that first Tuesday. It would be miserable going through dozens of days in a mental fog.

When I walk into the cafe and greet Claudia behind the counter, I'm not too surprised to see the Protagonists there earlier than usual. I've noticed they do that sometimes when they've had a particularly frustrating previous loop. It's no problem for me; I follow my routine, ordering the same drink and breakfast sandwich, going to my usual table under the huge painting of an Italian cafe, and setting up my laptop. I don't even have to worry about pretending to ignore them, because they're talking just loud enough that anyone might look over in interest.

"I can't believe we got the cops called on us," the brunette groans over her espresso. I think she's the oldest of the group, maybe early 40's? She has a slight Spanish accent.

"I can," Nasa qips. "We broke a window in broad daylight."

"It's not like we could wait until nightfall!" she rejoins. "What kind of stupid time loop is only twelve hours long?"

"At least it's not the other way," Jessica offers, a grimace creasing her round nose. She's likely the youngest, looks to be in her early 20s. "I don't think I could stand it if we only saw daylight for a couple of hours every time."

The grumbler heaves a sigh. "Stop pointing out the silver lining, Jess, it's ruining my bad mood."

"Nothing could ruin your bad moods, Martina," Nasa says with a grin. "It'd be like snuffing a fusion reactor."

Martina, ha! Got another one!

The one remaining member whose name I haven't gleaned breaks in, his face as serious as ever. "That's enough, guys. We're drawing attention." He's older than Nasa but younger than Martina. His broody eyes dart towards me, and I pretend to focus back on my computer. "Let's get into today's plan. I still think the Rite Aid is worth investigating..."

His voice lowers until it's hard to make out anymore, and the others follow his lead. Well, that was nice while it lasted! Keeping one ear cocked for any interesting tidbits, I turned my eyes back to my laptop.

Maybe you're wondering why I don't let on to the Protagonists that I'm also aware of the time loop. Well, first of all, it would just be awkward at this point. How do you walk up to people and be like, "Hey, I've been lurking in the background of your sci-fi adventure for the last three weeks, thought I should finally introduce myself"? Great way to out myself as a weirdo.

But there's also the fact that I don't really want to get dragged into their quest. Once you reveal that you're one of a select few who are self-aware in a perpetual time loop, you can't really peace out after that. They'll expect me to help. Especially whats-his-face, the leader guy; I have not seen him crack a single smile since I noticed he was aware. He's like a military commander. He's the one I keep expecting to notice I'm not perfectly duplicating my own actions every day.

I mean, I guess I could just avoid where I know they're going to be, but that seems like a lot of work, and how would I get updates on their progress? Obviously I hope they figure this thing out eventually. But the point is, there's already FOUR of them working the problem, and I doubt I could contribute significantly. I'd much rather continue my established cycle of self-improvement and keep a casual eye out for clues on my own than endure the stress and/or judgemental glares that seem to be the only possible outcomes of revealing myself.

So, yeah. I spend the next hour half-listening to the Protagonists arguing and planning while I binge another serial webcomic. It's really too bad you can't take notes in a time loop; I'm going to have a time of it trying to remember the names of all the good series I've dug up. Knowing that I can't expect any of them to update until a week after the indefinite time loop ends is also a bit of a bummer.

I head out shortly after the Protagonists take their leave. Naturally, my first stop is the Mexican grocery, where I grab a container of candy sticks called Tamarrico. "Hola," I say to Francisco in slightly less halting Spanish. "Estas saben bien?"

"Ah, si, si! Es una de mis favoritas," he replies, a big grin spreading over his face. I grin back as I pay, knowing he says that about any candy I bring to the counter. He's a friendly guy, and what do I know? Maybe they really are all his favorites.

"Gracias! Hasta manana," I reply with a wave. I hurry out the door to hide my grin at the confusion that flits over his face. Okay, so it'll still be Tuesday when I see him again, but hey, it'll be "tomorrow" for me.

The Protagonists are barely visible around the back of the RiteAid, probably trying to jimmy the lock on the fire entrance. I quickly check my watch; shoot, it's half an hour earlier than when I came out yesterday! But none of them are looking my way, not even Jessica, so I hurry on down the street and gamble on her not noticing my no-show at the appointed time.

Every other loop, I try to find a new spot to visit. I've explored all the open shops on Main Street twice over, and even braved walking into the insurance building despite having no need for insurance. I've just always wondered what the interior design looks like. (Blue carpet, boring office pictures, a surprising toy cat.) Today, I wander around in a little hole-in-the-wall thrift store. I end up buying a ridiculous hat that I wear proudly back out into the street.

I take a detour to buy snacks at Mister Maxx, a little store that sells bulk food items that are past their expiration date for cheap. (Don't flip out, it's perfectly safe. Plus you get a lot of variety!) I shove some canned smoke salmon into my satchel alongside the Tamarrico container, then it's on down the street to the library for another afternoon of hitting the books.

I've noticed I can get slightly different responses from the librarians depending on when I come by and what I'm carrying. Maj is my 2:00 librarian, and she starts to beam her usual welcoming smile but stops short at the sight of my neon-yellow sunhat. I think she enters a stare-off with the rubber duck nestled on the front brim. Her lips twitch, and she barely manages a welcoming nod to me before she has to turn away quickly, both hands trying to stifle the laughter shaking her shoulders.

I grin. That was an even better reaction than I'd hoped! I'll have to try this out for Janice at 3:00 next loop.

The afternoon slips away between Spanish studies and origami practice. (They don't have the perfectly square papers here, but I make do with cut-up printer paper from the library's copy center.) There's something really peaceful about being in a library. No loud noises, no shouting, no expectations I'll have to buy something. With a library at hand, I could spend years in a time loop without running out of new materials.

Do I want that? Years of the same repeated day? The question niggles at me, making me crease a fold wrong. I shake it off as quickly as I can, though. Surely the Protagonists will figure things out before that becomes an actual question to worry over.

I almost lose track of time, until I hear Librarian George making the rounds to announce closing time is imminent. I bolt to my feet, checking my phone as I abandon my misshapen paper frogs. Crap! I can't be late! Someone calls after me, probably to say not to run in the library, but I skid around the few corners between me and the door and burst out into the lowering sunlight.

I almost don't make it in time. Kevin is two steps onto the crosswalk when I pelt up, grab him by the collar, and dive us both back towards the sidewalk. He yells, I yell, the truck roars by honking loudly, he yells again. There is a mad scramble of limbs as me and the older guy struggle to sort ourselves out. I get up first and help him to his feet. "Are you okay?!" It would be pretty rotten if I broke his hip or something.

He sways shakily, feeling himself over. I pick up his glasses and he ever-so-carefully puts them on, peering at me, then the truck speeding into the distance. His eyes are bright with shock and moisture as he looks at me again. "Young lady, you just saved my life."

I almost blurt an apology for being late, but my better senses catch up and do a similar dive-tackle on my tongue. Instead I smile, a little shaky myself, and put a hand on his arm. "Lets get across this road and you can thank me with a Speedway hot chocolate."

His mouth quirks up, and he barks a laugh. "How did you know my favorite?" That shouldn't have startled me, but I'm off-kilter enough that I actually miss a step. Kevin apologizes profusely, thinking he tripped me somehow.

By the time we make it to our usual spot, I'm feeling much more stable. That had been too close. I need to keep better track of the time in future loops.

Maybe it seems unnecessary, me worrying about stopping an event when it will just be erased barely an hour after the fact. I could just leave the library early, skip the whole thing, right?

Wrong, for two reasons. First, it's easy to joke about being hit by a truck. But have you actually seen what it's like? The damage? I have, after seeing it happen to Kevin. He was still alive when the ambulance came, but by how much, I couldn't have guessed.

The thought of just letting that happen to someone... knowing the exact minute he is being hit and ignoring it because I can't be bothered to save his life...somehow, it just doesn't matter if the whole thing will be undone and forgotten shortly after it happens.

The other reason should be obvious. Since I don't know what's caused the time loop, I don't know what will end it. I can't risk the chance that the loop I decide to skip saving Kevin will be the final one where the Protagonists fix everything. I can't take that gamble with his life.

So I sit with Kevin, and we share bland gas station hot chocolate (seriously, why does he like this stuff), and I make a large mental note with a lot of exclamation points and underlining to make sure I'm out here early in future loops. By the time he's told me about his dogs Rusty and Pogo and their penchant for climbing each other to get over the yard fence like canine escape artists, I'm feeling much calmer. It's okay, I didn't mess up too badly. Everything is as it should be.

Well, as it should be within the scope of an inexplicable infinite time loop, anyway.

Kevin's alarm goes off, and he jumps to his feet. "For Pete’s sake, I’m late! Sorry, Miss Jackie, I have to run. You’re sure I can’t offer you a reward of some kind for what you did?”

I tip my still-half-full cup of hot chocolate to him. "Just knowing you're safe and getting to chat with you like this is plenty enough reward."

"You're a real blessing, miss," he says warmly as he shakes my hand. He says that line sometimes when my rescue efforts cut it a bit too close, and I shoot a prayer up that I won't give him a reason to say it again. But it's still nice to hear.

He hurries away, and I decide to walk down the street towards home this time instead of chilling at the Speedway. The air is pleasantly balmy with the setting sun, cool but not cold, a soft breeze washing away the remnants of the day's heat from the pavement. I drink in that air and let it out again slowly. By the time I reach my front porch, I'm feeling all settled and content, and I wave a hand at the few stars. It feels so refreshing to be able to slow down and really appreciate the beauty of this pleasant evening.

With a glance at my phone to note the time, I walk up the front steps and start to reach for the doorknob. Let's see if I can get the timing right this go-round. My hand closes around the knob, and I close my eyes, holding my breath. A few moments pass, longer than I was hoping, and then the popping, fizzling sensation comes and there's a new brightness past my eyelids. I'm opening my eyes from a blink, and it's a bright, sunny morning. My hand is on the knob, having just closed it on my way out before this all began.

Darn! Five seconds off. I'm getting closer to a perfect time loop transition, though! I grin to myself, release the doorknob, and turn around to head back to the cafe for a fresh new Tuesday.

someone should write a story where there’s ppl stuck in a time loop, but the pov is from someone who rlly doesn’t care. there’s a whole ‘protagonist group’ or whatever trying to figure out how to escape the loop but this dude has just kept living their life so no one has noticed that they’re also stuck. they’re just sipping the exact same coffee order for the hundredth time watching the group strategize at an adjacent table and thinkin “man, wonder if they’re gonna figure out how to fix that today.”

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chubbyheadquarters · 2 years ago

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hi can I request monkey king reborn sun wukong x fem artest reader where the the the reader was doing a sun wukong sketch on their Journal and the group were busy to notice it accept sun wukong that he was looking above the tree he was in and sun wukong grabbed the journal and started looking in the journal as sun wukong was teasing reader but he was blushing the rest I don't know but you can change it donI 't mind

Genre: Romantic

Pronouns: Female

TW/CW: None

Character(s): Monkey King-Sun Wukong

Finally!

After a long walk, the group had decided to take a long needed break. Sha Wujing was setting the camp up and Tang Sanzang was meditating, while Zhu Bajie and Wukong had gone to get food.

Meanwhile, you were tasked with getting some firewood, which you had just finished.

So now, you were sitting under the shade of a large tree, drawing the one and only Sun Wukong.

That grumpy monkey, always making you feel such strong emotions. From happiness, to anger, to sadness. He just seemed to become the center of your world.

He made you feel like you were the only girl that mattered in his life, and he never judged you for your appearance.

Maybe that's why you began to draw him so much?

To help alleviate and pour your feelings into something?

You knew that Wukong wasn't one to worry nor care about love, always calling it useless, unnecessary or even weak.

It hurt to hear him say it over and over again, but even so, you were happy to be by his side.

Maybe one day you'd be able to get over your feelings.

With a sad hum, you looked over the page, unaware of the newcomer.

"Drawing again, are we Princess?"

Your hands quickly pulled the sketchbook towards your chest, hoping that the being in question hadn't seen the drawing.

At that moment, you thanked your body for being more voluptuous, allowing the sketchbook to be more hidden.

You looked up, seeing Wukong rest comfortably on a branch right above you, munching away on an apple. He expected an answer, but you turned away, trying to hide your nervousness.

"It's my little secret."

You stood up, trying to get away, but before you knew it, your sketchbook was snatched away. Wukong took the book from his tail, now on a higher branch, and began looking through each page with curiousity.

"Wukong!"

Said monkey turned his attention to you, only for it to quickly go back to your sketchbook.

You shrieked when he began flipping through.

He had always been curious about what you drew, since you never showed anybody. You would always get embarrassed when someone asked to see it, always downplaying your skills. But looking at it all, he knew he was right.

It was all beautiful.

Everything was drawn so well, with details and shading making it look much more realistic.

Especially his portraits.

Seeing how much more detail went into his drawings made his ego shoot up.

Of course.

He WAS the best looking one of the group.

Who wouldn't want to draw him?

As he continued to look through the book, you were scrambling up the tree.

"I didn't realise I was such an inspiration for you. "

You picked up the pace, now cursing your plush and less athletic body.

You'd definitely have to improve on your tree climbing skills later.

"You sure do like drawing me alot~."

Finally reaching the top, you snatched the book, holding it to your chest. The hue of red that had washed over your face became much darker.

Just how much had he seen?

"Not bad at all."

You're a bit shocked at the comment, expecting something a bit more harsh-

"But you didn't capture my brilliance enough~."

You yelped, not expecting him to whisper so closely in your ear, and unconsciously turned around. The shit eating grin on his face made you stutter, and you proceeded to climb down before embarrassing yourself even further.

Wukong couldn't help the laugh that left him.

He'd never say it out loud, but he enjoyed teasing you, seeing that blush cover your face when you became embarrassed or listening to you stumble over your words.

It was cute.

You stormed off, mumbling under your breath, unaware of the small blush that covered Wukong's face.

It was there and then that he had decided.

He was definitely going to amp up his teasing.

You were the first woman to ever give him those type of nervous reactions, to ever catch his interest.

...

You're the first woman he's ever fallen in love with.

And hopefully, if those drawings meant what they did, you felt the same.

...

Maybe he could make you his wife?

Sorry for any spelling/grammar errors!

#chubby reader #x chubby reader #sun wukong x chubby reader #sun wukong x reader #wukong x chubby reader #wukong x reader #monkey king reborn x reader #monkey king reborn x chubby reader

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dearchilde · 3 years ago

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Look At You Go (I Just Adore You)

summary; sparring with the commissioner. a few shenanigans happen, but it's all in good fun.

pairing; kamisato ayato x gn!reader

warnings; mutual pining, sparring, teasing (on both ends), slight jealousy, slight angst (just a sprinkle), once again reader has a cryo vision, and fluff.

…ᘛnotes; I've read so many ayato fics just to understand his character, so I hope I did him some justice! this was inspired by @celestair whose post made me get off my ass and write for someone else that wasn't diluc or kaeya.

“Perhaps you need to work on your posture.”

“My posture is great, you just lack providing me the thrill of excitement that I'm looking for,” You retorted, blocking another swing of Ayato's sword with your own. He was still holding back for the sake of the rules of the spar. It wasn't a rare sight to see you in the courtyard with the Head of the Kamisato Estate. The two of you would meet up often, sometimes together as friends, other times to spar.

You twist your sword in your hand, a bit of cryo mist emitting from the blade. “Come on, Commissioner,” you taunt with a grin. “I thought you were competent enough to take this seriously, are you not?” He meets your words with a sly smile of his own. The spar continues.

Sword meets sword, the two blades clash together in an almost rhythmic pattern that soothes your ears. The whole world was but a mere blur to you, keeping your focus solely on Ayato and his blade. Dodge. Block. Attack. Use your surroundings to catch him off-guard. That's it.

You throw your entire body to the ground, just narrowly avoiding what could've been a cut to your cheek. Above you, Ayato smirks at your sandy figure, “You seem distracted down there. Have you yielded?” You could almost howl in laughter at the mere suggestion. Surrendering was never a valid option, not to you.

It doesn't help that Ayato's words seem like they're mocking you. Your spars always ended in a draw between the two of you, so you refuse to hand over a win that you could easily turn in your favor. Screw your crush on this handsome man, someone needs to knock that grin off the Commissioner's face.

Much to his surprise, Ayato watched with curious eyes as you all but tossed your sword to the side, tightening his grip on his own weapon. You were a very curious person by nature, and it wasn't rare for you to experiment various ways to improve your combat during these spars. Ayato will admit, your willingness to try new things is what makes these spars very enjoyable—likeable, so what could you be planning now?

It was a new experience, definitely not one you were going to shy away from. You tapped into your vision, feeling it's coolness throughout your body. Focus on where you want the power, whether it be offensive or defensive, the vision will shape itself into what you want it to be, Thoma's voice rings through, his advice two weeks from when you received your vision still resonating with you.

“Follow through with it,” You look up to see Ayato's encouraging smile being directed at you. His sword was lowered, as if he was aware of the breakthrough you were about to make. Despite your questionable "friendly rivalry" with each other, you respected Ayato and Ayato respected you. “You can do it.”

Had it been in any other situation, you likely would've been restraining yourself from proposing to him on the spot. Right now, however, you could only thank him for understanding and helping you through this mid sparring. You nodded at him in gratitude, finding that your Ayato-focused thoughts had caused something to happen while you weren't paying attention. It was kind of difficult to notice since he was wearing white sleeves, but your cryo was easily distinguishable to your sharp eye.

It happened before Ayato himself could realize. One moment he had been urging you on, the next both of his arms had been encased in cryo energy. How interesting, he mused, admiring the armor like layer in fascination. He flexed his hand to test its tensile strength, noticing how the cryo didn't particularly feel cold at all. The shell was a little stiff, but movement was still possible. It wasn't long before the cryo protection shattered, disolving into mist that disappeared back into the air. That lasted seven seconds, minium.

He saw you jump in the air after a pregnant pause, excitement and joy painted on your face. “That was totally unintentional!” You exclaimed, startling a few guards stationed by the entrance who shot you some glares. Ayato felt the corners of his lips slowly curl into a smile, finding that your happiness was very infectious. This was another aspect of your presence that he felt fond of.

Naturally, your sounds of excitement drew in the attention of a certain pair that were just arriving from a few errands. As if sensing their mere presence, you turn towards the two with such speed it was a surprise you didn't pull a muscle. “Thoma, Thoma! You won't believe what just happened!”

“Must've been good if its got you this happy,” The blonde chuckled, and then you went off on a tangent while the two siblings watched on the sidelines.

Ayaka lowered her fan to chuckle at the two of them, turning her attention over at her brother. He was staring at you with rapture, arms crossed and an awfully fond smile that seemed out of character of him. This was the first time Ayato had ever been like this, and it was pretty clear as to why it was. Ayaka wasn't going to let an opportunity like this fly by.

She flicked her fan closed, snapping the elder out of his daze. He schooled his expression to one of his usual masks, but still maintaining that familiar smile he always wore when it was just the two of them. “Ayaka, welcome back. How was your trip?”

“Quite pleasant, yes. However, we shouldn't discuss about me,” She discreetly nudged his arm, a cunning smile that seemed out of character of her adorned her features. Ayato seemed almost proud at that, “It seems like you harbor some feelings for them, brother. It's written all over your face.”

Ayato kept his composed mask. “I must be doing something wrong if even my little sister has gotten wind of this,” he said, a gentle laugh pouring out of his lips. “But I find it useless to try and hide these feelings, so if you were planning on playing matchmaker, I'm afraid it won't work. They are aware of my feelings as I am aware of theirs.” Ayaka rose her eyebrows at that, redirecting her gaze over at you only to do a double-take over what she just witnessed.

Ayato, who had been interested to see her reaction, turned to look at what got her so surprised, only to feel his previous smile grow rigid and tense. There you were embracing another man—Thoma, to be more specific. His Retainer had his arms around you, seemingly praising you for whatever you two were previously discussing. What was worse was that you were hugging him as well, thanking the blonde profusely for what, Ayato didn't have the slightest clue.

Normally, this wouldn't have bothered him this greatly. Thoma and you were friends, too. It was normal for friends to share intimacy, so why was this bothering him so much? Ayato despised this ugly feeling that bubbled in his chest, but alas, like he had practiced for so many years, he kept a cool composure and cleared his throat. Thoma, sensing the rather tense atmosphere emitting from the man, swiftly released you with a placating smile. You glanced over at Ayato, clear suspicion in those slightly narrowed eyes of yours.

Ayato moved on as if nothing had happened, “Thoma, can you go fetch them a glass of water? Our spar must've tired them out greatly.”

Thoma nodded. “Yes, My Lord.”

Ayaka couldn't help but stifle a giggle behind her hand. He couldn't hide that jealousy even if he tried, and it was evident that you had picked up on it like a hawk as well. Surely this would quicken the process of the two of you getting together, right?

She flashed you a kind smile, “Anyway, I must excuse myself, unfortunately. Our trip seems to have exhausted me greatly, I hope you don't mind.”

You returned the gesture, bidding her a good rest as she retreated to her quarters. Now, you were left with a smiling Ayato, who seemed determined to not address his sudden interruption. “Cat got your tongue, Kamisato Ayato?” You teased.

“No, but it seems like it was caught by something else, though it seems like it ran away unfortunately.”

Walking over to him, you lightly poked his shoe with your own, your soft expression soothing his previous jealousy. “Thoma's a friend, you know? He's helped me with my vision a great deal, so it's only natural I thank him for his efforts.” Ayato sighed, allowing himself this momentary vulnerability with you. Something he wouldn't have done with you before.

“Trust me when I say it won't happen again. I despised the feeling, and it wouldn't be fair to you when I haven't even...” His sentence trailed off, but you knew what he wanted to say. There was a reason the two of you haven't gotten together despite your obvious feelings for each other. For starters, your drive to improve your battling skills. This required you to move around from location to location, so you were never one to stay in one place. Inazuma was your homeland, so you would occasionally settle in for a while to rest your weary bones.

The Kamisato Estate had become some place you could call "home" after losing your own family. The loss wasn't something you dwelt in for too long, because soon after you had received your vision and it had inspired you to learn new things. Improving yourself was your utmost priority, hence why you wouldn't allow yourself to completely settle until you could rebuild your family name on your own. This was one of the first few things you told Ayato when you met him, and he respected your decision.

You let out a deep breath, the slight gloomy atmosphere that had hung over the two of you leaving with it. You were learning, so it was only natural, “Hey,” Ayato regarded you with a leveled stare. That was fine, you just needed to reassure him even if he didn't need it. Sticking out your hand, you wiggled your fingers, a teasing smile on your face as he tentatively placed his hand over yours, “Look at the Commissioner acting like a puppy learning his basic commands~”

“Don't get used to it, you merely have me in a mellow mood at the moment. Besides,” You let out a startled gasp as he pulls you towards him, crashing on to his chest with a deadpan glare as he gazed into your eyes with mirth. “This little puppy deserves a treat after what you subjected him to today, don't you think?” You lightly shove him away, the urge to hit him growing when his laughter reached your ears.

“You owe me another spar for that. Get your sword, Ayato, we're going again.”

He smiled. “Why, of course. Who am I to refuse such a request?”

Do Not Plagiarize/Copy to Another Site.

#–;dearchilde's library!#kamisato ayato genshin #kamisato ayato x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #kamisato ayato fluff #x reader

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mimi-cee-hq · 3 years ago

Text

A Genuine Mess - Atsumu x f!reader

Pairing: Atsumu x f!reader

Summary: Atsumu insults you, the quietest girl in his class. But as he gets to know you, your few words often leave him blushing.

Genre, etc.: Tooth rotting fluff, Atsumu is a dork in love but still consistent with his canon character, reader is quiet but not timid

Warnings: none

Author's Notes: I wanted to try a different personality for the reader as well as taking one of Atsumu's negative character traits and flipping it on its head :) This was fun to write. Hehehe.

Words: 1.9k

*****

"What? She's here for me?" said Atsumu. He pressed his lips together to hide the smile forming on his lips. As he attempted to walk to the gym doors as normally as possible, Aran tilted his head while Osamu wore an amusing smirk.

Atsumu leaned on the frame of the gym doors. "What'd ya want?" he asked you, trying to be as smooth as possible. His voice didn't reveal his usual arrogance and was unexpectedly gentle.

"Could I see your hand?" you asked him with a quiet but direct tone.

When he held his hand out in front of you, you delicately turned it over, palm faced down, and positioned his fingers one by one. You didn't notice him gripping the side of his jersey in his other hand, trying to keep it together every time your fingers grazed his skin. You let go of his hand to pull out your phone and angled it to get a good shot of his hand.

Click.

"Thank you Atsumu-san," you told him, putting your phone away and leaving the gym.

Atsumu returned to the court, not even able to hide the childish grin from his teammates anymore. Some widened their eyes and others dropped their jaws as they witnessed the entire scene.

"So when did you start liking her?" Suna asked him.

"I don't like her," Atsumu adamantly responded.

A laugh escaped Osamu's lips and Atsumu told him to shut up. He hated that his twin knew exactly why he was acting like this.

*****

"Well that looks ugly."

Seated at your desk, you looked up from your sketch to see Atsumu's scrunched up nose. It didn't take long for it to disappear. Osamu whacked him on the head for insulting the quietest girl in class two and quite possibly their whole year.

"Sorry about this jerk," Osamu told you. "He doesn't have a filter."

But when he started to drag Atsumu away from you, they heard the rare sound of your voice.

"Miya-san," you said.

They both turned around but after looking at each other, they assumed you were referring to your classmate Atsumu.

"Why does it look ugly?"

"Ha?" Atsumu gawked at you. He scratched the back of his head. "I dunno. The shoulders just looked gross"–he got whacked on the head again–"Hey!" He glared at Osamu.

After they bickered for a bit, they turned their attention back to you, but you were already facing your desk, immersed in your sketch. Osamu raised an eyebrow at Atsumu, expecting him to know what that was all about, but he only shrugged his shoulders, not having a clue either.

The next time Atsumu heard your voice was when you came to see him at his desk.

"Ha? What's this?" he asked.

In front of him, you had placed another sketch. You didn't say a word but looked at him as if you were expecting some sort of comment.

Atsumu raised an eyebrow but looked at the sketch anyway.

"What's wrong with this dude's hand?" he asked as he squinted at the drawing, holding your sketchbook up to his eyes. "It looks like it's dislocated or something."

The classmate beside him shot his eyes open. He then looked up at you to see your reaction.

"Thank you," you told Atsumu with a little nod before returning to your desk. Those were the only words you had for Atsumu and they had left him and his classmate speechless.

Atsumu's eyes lit up the third time you came to his desk.

"Which one looks the worst?" you asked him, showing him three different sketches.

"This one," he said, pointing to the one in the middle. "There's no way a person could have hair like that."

You ignored his comment and asked him again which one looked worse. He still chose the middle one, saying the expression reminded him too much of his brother.

You gave him a nod as thanks and as he watched you return to your desk, there was a small uptick at the corner of his mouth, gazing at you gathering your pencils together and continuing your progress.

Over the next couple of weeks, he watched you from afar as you drew doodles during class when you should've been paying attention. He wondered if he should actually write notes from the lesson in case you needed them. Maybe he'd pass them to you the next time you showed him your artwork.

But you hadn't made a trip to his desk during the next two weeks. Why did you stop coming? So when you left the classroom, he quickly opened the sketchbook that was left on your desk and went through it page by page, curious to see what you'd been drawing this whole time. As he flipped through the pages, he saw how your drawings had gradually improved. He couldn't help but smile at your growth as an artist.

"Miya-san."

He jumped at your voice and snapped the book shut. He fumbled over his words. "I wasn't looking! It just fell and I picked it up from the ground!" he told you. "When I put it back on yer desk it just happened t' be like that!"

He then saw an expression he had never seen on your face. Your brows were furrowed and your lips turned into a frown. You let out a deep breath. "Miya-san, you're free to look through my sketchbook, but please don't lie to me."

His eyes widened before he lowered them to stare at the classroom floor. Shoulders sagging, he told you in a hushed voice, "I'm sorry." He sighed and dragged his feet back towards his desk. But just when he was about to pull out his chair, he heard your soft voice.

"Miya-san," you said, looking directly at him when he turned to you. "Like I said, you can come and look at it whenever you want."

Atsumu pressed his lips together, trying to hold back a stupid grin on his face. But his eyes betrayed his attempt as they crinkled and turned into crescents, elated at your offer.

*****

Over the next several weeks, Atsumu used any excuse he could to chat with you at your desk before he finally settled on talking to you about anything and everything. He tried to get to know you, asking you questions, but your answers were short and simple, not knowing how else to respond.

However, Atsumu shamelessly continued to talk about himself, his brother, the team, and whatever else was on his mind that day. You always nodded and listened with a smile.

"I think she's just being nice to you," commented Osamu.

"She's never stopped me," Atsumu replied with a huff, crossing his arms, which only resulted in Osamu shaking his head.

Without looking up from your sketch, you told him, "I like hearing him talk."

Osamu's eyes grew at your response but when he glanced over at his twin, Atsumu's ears and cheeks had turned red.

"Oh?" the silver haired twin said with a sly grin. "You're blushing 'Tsumu."

"No I'm not!" Atsumu said after clearing his throat and turning his head away. Osamu was about to tease him when instead, you said something that deepened his blush.

"It's cute."

Osamu's jaw dropped. Atsumu froze at your comment before deciding to put his face down on your desk, burying it into his arms.

As you and Atsumu got to know each other, he learned that you were still close with your friends from middle school. They were there for you, always supporting you and your passion for art. But when you asked them what they thought about your drawings, they had always said they looked good. You were grateful for them but you couldn't tell if they were just being nice.

"So is that why you asked me about yer drawings?" Atsumu noted. You confirmed it with a nod and he looked at you with longing eyes and a soft smile.

You caught him off-guard when you took a photo of him. "Your expression was interesting just now," you told him. "I want to use it as reference."

Atsumu blushed and covered the lower half of his face. He muttered something through his hands that you didn't quite catch.

"Hm?" you asked.

"Y-you can use me as reference any time."

You took him up on his offer. You'd often snap pictures of him, casually pulling out your phone when you'd find an interesting expression on his face. You even came to see him at practice when you wanted to practice drawing some hands. He often wondered what you noticed about him when you used him as reference, what expressions you saw in him.

One day after classes had ended and volleyball practice was cancelled, he sat at the other side of your desk as you switched to a different drawing pencil from your set. What did you see when you looked at him? His eyes? His nose? His lips?

His hand rose next to your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. When you looked up at him from your drawing, he pulled his hand back, suddenly realizing what he was doing.

He bit his lip, scolding himself for doing that to you. You called his name and his attention was back on you.

"Why did you stop?" you asked.

Butterflies were fluttering in his stomach, not at all expecting those words. Looking at you through his eyelashes, he saw you directly looking back at him. Were you serious?

Somehow getting the courage to make a move, he drew his hand toward you and gently cupped your cheek. He bent over your desk and brought his lips near yours, stopping midway as if waiting for permission to follow through. You leaned in a little closer and he closed the gap, feeling your soft lips against his.

Pulling back, his eyes studied your face for some sort of reaction. He bit his lip, doubting if that was what you wanted. Perhaps he didn't do a good job or you had changed your mind after the kiss.

What if you were just doing this for reference?

He searched your eyes for an answer, not knowing that you saw the insecurity in his.

"I liked it, Atsumu."

His eyes grew. He was both delighted and flustered, not believing that he got to kiss you, that you'd accept a kiss from someone like him. He hugged you and placed a kiss on your forehead, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close.

*****

"Guys! I have a girlfriend!" Atsumu declared, storming into the gym the next day. They all raised their brows when they saw who was holding his hand.

"Are you serious?" asked Aran.

"It's probably fake," Suna commented.

"He must have bribed her or something," Osamu added.

"All of ya just shut up!" Atsumu yelled at them as they all gave him a skeptical look. He sighed and dropped his shoulders as he held your hand.

They snickered and teased him, but when there was a silent pause in the air, they heard your voice for the first time.

"I like him," you told his team. Your voice was quiet but they heard every word. They freaked out, gawking at the two of you, an unlikely pair.

Atsumu turned his face away because his cheeks went red again. Your words, more often than not, caused him to be up in a fluster.

*****

I hope you enjoyed it.

I couldn't help but have Suna say it was fake for all my "A Glimpse of Yellow" readers. lolll.

If you liked this one, you might like one of these:

1) my Tendou one-shot (timid!reader)

2) my Sakusa one-shot (where he gets a crush on exchange student!reader)

3) my Kyoutani one-shot (another unexpected pairing)

And I want to shamelessly throw in my Suna chaptered fic (fake dating) just because it's my current series. lol.

I also have a Google form for my taglist if any of you are interested in it.

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fanfic #atsumu fanfic #hihqnetwork #animehorizons #angelwalker’s virtues

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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years ago

Text

Quiet Music: Obbligato (Chapter Seven)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Off to the races with no time for nights gone wrong. Being at a wit's end deserves a reward, one of teasing breaths and words, adding to the stories the hallway could tell. Vulnerable words pinned to the wall and kissing it all better.

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 7187

***

The morning was awkward, to say the least. Y/n had woken up first and before she could even look at the man beside her, her phone started ringing, management was calling. So she was off to work. No time for the thoughts that were still running around in her mind. No time to process.

They didn’t get to talk, she and Damiano. Both of them were hurrying to get packed up and get the others woken up to then get to the airport. It seemed impossible to find a quiet minute with just the two of them, some privacy, some peace of mind. The call from that morning was their manager, who had already been up for two hours ranting about some of the changes that needed to be made. Today it was going from zero to one hundred with no end in sight.

She had hoped things would calm down as they reached the airport, but chaos seemed to follow wherever they went. It started with Victoria panicking because she couldn’t locate her jacket anymore - she made sure to let everyone in the greater vicinity know that it was her absolute favourite and she had worn it in Rotterdam and she could not go anywhere, much less fly to London, without it. Luckily this ended up being one of Y/n’s easiest tricks that day. After retracing their steps throughout the terminal the jacket was quickly reclaimed from a lovely barista at a café who had collected it for safekeeping.

Y/n was hoping to catch her breath for a moment, but then Chili was being an absolute nuisance. Contrary to her normally chill and relaxed state of being, she now insisted on being cuddled and petted and having all the attention on her. Unfortunately, no one’s but Y/n’s attention would do, so she was stuck with a wriggling fur ball in her arms for the foreseeable future. It didn’t help when Ethan ran up to her in a panic, having realised that his hairbrush was missing. She wanted to calm him down, explain that there were more than enough shops to get a new one in London, but apparently, there was no hairbrush quite like it as if it was the magical reason behind his shiny hair. So with a sigh and Chili pressed against her, she called the hotel in Amsterdam requesting for them to look for the missing item and please send it to London. Express. They would be there for three days and it better arrive during that time. The confused receptionist promised to do her best.

When Y/n heavily fell into her seat on the plane she was looking forward to either a quick nap or a chance to talk to Damiano, who she conveniently chose to sit next to, but all plans evaporated as soon as Thomas claimed the aisle seat, excitedly chattering away. She could tell he was looking forward to getting back to London and having some free time there on top of it, but she really didn’t need to hear the story of how they all lived there for a while yet again. Damiano sent her a pitiful look, but all she could do was shrug. Shrug, lean back, and let Thomas’ talk lure her into sleep, hopefully.

***

Luckily, the flight wasn’t as bad this time around. Y/n still held tightly to her coat on lift-off and landing, but that seemed to be the extent of her uncomfortableness. Damiano kept his eyes on her, on the bandage around her wrist, as if waiting for it to come undone and her right along with it. It didn’t happen. They touched down in London within less than an hour.

Heathrow airport was crowded with fans. For the first time on that tour, it had gotten really bad. Security managed to keep people at bay though as the band and crew made their exit, not stopping for photos and full of apologies for having to leave. The shouting, the reaching hands, and the flashing cameras seemingly did nothing to improve Y/n’s mood, Damiano thought. Her face remained neutral, but he could see the little signs underneath. A short cab ride later, and the usual busy atmosphere of arriving at a hotel for the first time engulfed them. People moving luggage, figuring out rooming arrangements, crowding the lobby. Damiano stayed out of it, smoking a quick cigarette with Thomas and Ethan outside, before heading inside as well.

Damiano didn’t notice that anything was wrong until Y/n started raising her voice. It wasn’t like her. In the past two weeks of working with her, he had encountered her in a number of stressful situations. Enough that would make him lose his mind, but she was calm and collected, the type to take a deep breath instead of shouting at someone. So the way she was currently staring down the receptionist at the hotel that they were checking into both intrigued and bothered him. Trying not to draw too much attention to himself, he got closer to the scene, fumbling with some of their luggage standing next to the desk, just to listen in more closely.

“Check again, please,” Y/n requested, politeness nothing but a necessary feature in this conversation. “I do not have the time or the patience to deal with this mistake at this current moment.”

Damiano could see she was at her wit’s end, yet the need to stay professional was obvious.

“Bloody hell... You’d think after all of today at least one thing would go well. But no, I am stuck dealing with a broken computer and missing rooms.”

The man behind the counter sent her a slightly panicky look, hands shuffling between papers and typing on the keyboard in front of him.

“I can only apologise, I will do my absolute best to rectify this mistake,” the receptionist stated, voice much less steady than Y/n’s. She shook her head slightly, pulling out her phone and starting to type something into it. Probably updating their manager on what is happening.

“I sincerely hope that this is the last of the mistakes your hotel will be committing. We’re paying good money for this hotel, but London is big and I don’t think anyone would hesitate to book us somewhere else next time if the service here doesn’t suffice.” The air around her felt like static electricity, everything was prickly and on fire. “Now, please check again and then either have the correct number of rooms waiting for us or figure out another way to solve this problem. I know this probably isn’t your fault, but this needs a solution.”

The man standing in front of them quickly understood what was being asked of him. Y/n's body had remained creepily still through this, her eyes never leaving the person in front of her.

It was over as soon as it hard started. The receptionist handed her the keys and quickly mumbled something about the rooms being on the fifth floor and to the left. Y/n nodded, not necessarily happy, but visibly glad it was over. Turning around she faced Dami with an indescribable look on her face. He couldn’t believe what just happened, and how it was handled by their assistant. Looking at her right now she was agitated, sure, but whatever power she had just possessed? Damiano wanted to see it again.

***

The band crowded into the lift, and with each ding passing a floor Damiano’s need to do something grew. Attention was an easy thing for the singer to come by. Most of the time it was freely given and even then tenfold due to - well, Damiano being Damiano. But wanting attention was different, and wanting her attention, in particular, was a relatively new concept.

“Fifth Floor,” the monotone voice announced. Y/n made quick work handing everyone their room keys until she was only hanging to her own and Damiano’s. He took his chance.

“Can I walk you to your room?”

“Sure,” she answered, but the look in her eyes told him she was a little suspicious of his actions.

As they got closer to the door Damiano saw his chance. Reassuring himself that the hallway was now deserted of his bandmates, he quickly grabbed her - healthy! - wrist, turning her around and pressing her against the wall next to the door. Her expression was one of shock and surprise as he moved in closer, keeping her wrist against the wall and trapping her between his arms as he leaned against his hand on the other side of her head. Her breathing quickened noticeably and he couldn’t suppress a grin as he watched her look into his eyes, before flickering down to his lips and back up again. There was very little doubt concerning what she was thinking about. He had her in the palm of his hand. Right where he wanted her.

“You know, seeing you getting all hot and bothered down there… Very sexy.” His voice was low and gravelly. He was doing his absolute best to get her to falter under him, not shying away from employing all the tricks in the book. He moved in even closer now, only breaking eye contact when the angle made it impossible. His mouth to her ear, not quite touching, but close enough that he was sure she could feel his breath on her skin. “I should thank you… for all the… hard work you do.”

He resisted the temptation of pushing into her, letting his body collide with hers, letting her know exactly what he was talking about. Not now, not yet, he told himself. Instead, his hand carefully let go of her wrist, travelling down her arm, her side, across her body, with the softest touch, until he reached her other hand, which was grasping tightly onto the remaining room key. In a flash, he had snatched it out of her palm, backed away from her, and with a wink and a smirk that hopefully told her all she needed to know, he turned around to make his way to his room.

“Damiano! We still need to talk!” Y/n whisper-shouted. One look at her face was enough. Her skin had turned that favorable shade of red that Damiano had grown to love so much. She was still leaning against the wall, apparently not trusting her feet to carry her just yet. As he made his way to his room he couldn’t help but notice the bubbling of pride in his chest. Whatever she wanted to talk about, he was convinced it was going to go his way.

***

There was one person in this entire world that would be able to help sort out the mess in Y/n’s head. Stepping out onto the balcony, she quickly clicked her best friend’s name. One, two rings, and the familiar face popped up on her screen with a wide smile.

“Hi, love! How- oh my god, what is wrong?” Y/n’s face had always been much too easy to read for her friends.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Y/n protested, but the way her friend raised her eyebrows let her know that she would not get away with it. “Fine, that was a lie. Couple of things have gone wrong actually. Starting with my wrist!”

Y/n held the offending body park up into view, speech getting quicker as she continued.

“Fell onto it trying to escape Damiano and a private conversation he had with Victoria that I probably shouldn’t have heard. But I did, and I’ve not been able to stop thinking about it, and it’s bothering me quite a bit actually, which is silly, because all I’m supposed to do here is my job, right? But now I think that he doesn’t want to be in the same space as me, which is a problem, to say the least, but at the same time he does? He literally just got all up in my space actually, so I don’t know what’s happening?”

“Wow okay, take a breath and start from the beginning, please.”

And so Y/n did, catching her friend up on every single detail of the past days, every little look, every single word uttered, every movement made. She didn’t spare a single detail or blush-inducing moment.

“I don’t know what to do, or think, or say. I think I know what is happening, but then he turns around and does the opposite of what I’m expecting. It's infuriating.”

“Ah yes, let me guess. He’s constantly around, whatever you do? Checkin up on your, catching your eyes, always happens to sit next to you?”

“He does… Why do I feel like everyone here knows what is going on but me?”

"Y/n, listen. You're my best friend, but you're the dumbest human being I've ever encountered. It is so obvious that he likes you, it's almost painful to hear you talk about and not realise. Look at the way he is taking care of you, the way he tries to make you laugh, how he constantly wants your attention on him - why on earth do you think he's doing that? You need to talk to him, seriously."

“But I overheard-”

"You didn't hear shit! You don't even know the context of what he said! Now listen to me: You like him. He likes you. If I'm wrong about this, I'll personally allow you to come back home and beat me up ok?" A sigh came through the line, her friend's voice getting softer. "I know the past years have been hard on you. And I know you don't like letting people in. But you've got to take a chance every now and then and Damiano sounds like he'll be worth it. From what you've told me, it sounds like he sees you exactly for what you are: brilliant, clever, caring, beautiful. Don't let this go to waste, love."

"You know I hate it when you're right. But you probably are." Y/n felt much calmer already, even though the mere thought of having that talk with Damiano made her feel slightly queasy again. "I should talk to him. My head will never stop spinning otherwise."

"Well, I love it when I'm right! So I'm hanging up right now so you can go talk to him, bye love!"

Her face disappeared from the screen in an instant.

***

“She’s right, you know? You should talk to him.” Victoria watched as Y/n almost jumped at the sound of her voice. She had concentrated so hard on whoever she was video-calling that she hadn’t noticed her enter the balcony next door. Now, Vic hadn’t meant to listen, but privacy on tour was a fickle thing and as soon as she realised what - or who - the topic of conversation was, she couldn’t help herself.

“Oh! Hi, Vic. Sorry, what?” Y/n asked, quite obviously startled. “I’m assuming you heard most of that conversation then.”

“I did. But that’s okay, please don’t worry about it. You know, I’m saying this as your friend as well as Damiano’s friend: Talk this thing out, whatever it is. We’ve all been watching you dance around each other, but one of you needs to have the guts to make a move. I know Damiano seems like a cocky know-it-all sometimes, but if you get down to it, he’s just as insecure and shy. So I think this is on you. Invite him over, order some room service, have a talk. If it goes poorly, you can always text me and I’ll come over. And help you finish the food.”

Victoria was glad to see Y/n let out a small giggle. Over the course of the whole tour, she had never seen her quite this stressed out. Sooner or later it would impact her job performance - just as it was starting to affect Damiano’s. She’d long noticed how distracted he was. It didn’t even matter whether Y/n was in the room or not, his thoughts constantly seemed to be spinning around the same thing. The same person, rather. At this point, it was in everyone’s best interest to get these two to talk it out. She trusted them to be sensible enough about it not to let it affect their work if it went wrong. At least not the way their mutual obsession with each other was doing now.

Y/n nodded.

“Thanks, Vic. What do I have to lose, right? I mean, a lot, technically, but you know. Thanks.”

Victoria watched as Y/n shot her one more worried look, before turning and getting back to her room. She made sure to shout after her just before the door closed.

“Tell me how it goes!”

***

“It’s going to be fine, it’s going to be fine, this is going to go my way, I’m going to say my part and it will all be fine,” Y/n mumbled to herself as she paced back and forth in her hotel room. Time and time again, she found herself checking her phone, needing to convince herself she had actually sent the message to Damiano, inviting him to her room for a conversation. He hadn’t replied, but the little blue check marks told her he had read it.

Okay, keep calm. You're going to have a conversation about this, like the adults that you are. You ask to clarify what you overheard and you'll stay calm, whatever his answer is. At the end of the day, this is work. And if you need to cry, you can do it once he's left. Easy.

A knock on the door interrupted her thought process. For a moment, she considered ignoring it. Pretending like she wasn’t there. But that wasn’t going to work, was it? Not forever, anyway.

“Y/n, you said you wanted to talk?” Damiano’s voice came from the other side of the door.

Time to face the music, I guess, Y/n thought to herself. With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped to the side to let him in. Damiano hesitated for a second, as if contemplating how to greet her, but then simply smiled at her before stepping in. The nervous energy engulfed both of them immediately and she caught him looking around the room for a moment before deciding to take a seat at the foot of her bed. She couldn’t even think about sitting down. Instead, she was pacing the room like a caged animal.

“Um, so, I called you here for a meeting.” Y/n picked at her nails looking anywhere in the room that wasn’t at Damiano.

“A meeting? Y/n, really?” He chuckled. “If these meetings involve me visiting your hotel room, feel free to invite me over for them more often.”

“Damiano! I’m trying to be serious here!”

“Sorry, sorry, go ahead.” He waved at her to continue as he leaned back on the bed. He looked delectable, and Y/n had to actively tear her eyes away to focus on what she had meant to talk about with him.

“I overheard you and Vic talking at the second-hand shop. Something about you not wanting me around? Before I overthink this even more than I already have, I should probably ask you what that was about.” She stopped pacing and quickly looked at Damiano waiting for a reaction.

“Wait, you heard that?” He suddenly sat up again, urgency visible in his face. “Did you hear the whole thing or… only me saying that?”

“Only that apparently ‘I'm everywhere you look’ and you can’t seem to get rid of me.” She forced a scoff, although she would rather cry at the memory if she was being honest. “I know I shouldn’t have heard that conversation, but I did. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. That's why I ran out of the shop.”

She watched as Damiano buried his head in his hands, making a sound that was something between a laugh and a groan. “Seems like you missed the important part.” A deep sigh rattled through his chest as he looked up at her. “What I said before that was that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About kissing you. That’s why it’s so hard to see you everywhere, to have you around so much.” He slowly stood up, walking over to her in tentative movements. “It’s because I want to kiss you all the time.”

She took a step back, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Anything to protect herself, to keep up some sort of composure. Letting her guard down too early was the worst thing she felt she could do. An expression that was both alarmed and confused flashed across her face. “You - wait … no, that's not - hold on.” She squinted her eyes at him trying to figure out if there was any hint of deception in him. “You wouldn’t lie to me… would you?”

He stood in front of her now, eyes staring her down with nothing but honesty. “I like to joke around but not with things like these, okay? I would never put you in that position. But when we accidentally kissed in Amsterdam? I wish it hadn’t been accidental at all.” His hand was reaching out to her, softly touching her arm, as if to test the waters. To see if she would pull away.

She stayed quiet for what felt like an eternity. Yet, she didn’t move away from him this time. “I’m sorry... for how I acted at the hospital. I didn’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do with you most of the time it seems.” A small smile flickered on her lips, unable to keep it at bay. “I’m sorry, I’m… not all that good at being vulnerable. In case that hadn’t become obvious yet. But I agree, you know. Kissing you should be on purpose.”

“It’s fine, it was a rough day. Now that I know what you heard, even more so for you,” he smiled back at her. His hand was wandering up her arm now, softly resting on her shoulder, just inches away from the bare skin on her neck. She was sure she could feel his warmth there already. “We’ll figure it out together, yeah? Starting with an actual kiss? On purpose?”

She blinked at him, before looking down at his chest, slowly grabbing onto the collar of his shirt. Playing the fabric between her fingers, anything to keep her nervousness under control. “Yeah, that would be good. Gotta test it out, right?” She looked back up at him, a pink tint growing across her cheeks.

“Yeah, just a test,” he mumbled, coming closer still. His hand wandered further upwards, tingling along her bare skin, before softly grabbing her neck to pull her into him. He was moving slowly, almost tormentingly so, as his breath fanned her face, eyes wandering back and forth between her own and her mouth. Her heart was beating impossibly fast now. If he wasn’t going to do anything soon, she would collapse, she was sure of it.

“Just kiss me already.”

And then his lips were on hers, soft and gentle, but with a force behind it that let her know he meant it. It was nothing like the kiss in Amsterdam. This was a kiss with purpose, long-lived desire finally being realised, feeling poured into every move they made. If this was a test, they were passing it with flying colours. Everything felt simply right. His lips against hers, his hand tangling in her hair, her arms wrapping themselves around him. Any doubt whether this was the right thing to do, whether this was what she wanted, ceased to exist. She couldn’t tell how long they were standing there, kissing, exploring, enjoying each other, but when they finally parted, she found herself catching her breath. Silly smiles painted on both of their faces. She buried her face in his chest, almost a little embarrassed now.

“That went well,” she giggled, unlike she did in Amsterdam. This high was different.

Damiano’s hand pushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear, tender touch lasting on her face a little too long, but she wouldn’t complain. He quickly pressed another needy kiss against her lips, before pulling her to sit on the bed with him. “So, now what? Not that I wasn’t enjoying that, but we should probably talk about where we’re gonna go from here.”

She nodded. “Well, work comes first. Not that I wasn’t having fun either. But, both of us know that the most important thing is you performing the best you can. I guess we go with your plan. Figure it out together. I don’t want to force anything.” Always trying to ground herself back into reality - it was the way she was built. A moment of insanity, yes, but never more. “Though, on days off… if you...” Her mouth opened but no more words came.

“I like the sound of that,” Damiano grinned, seemingly unable to stop himself from stealing another kiss from her lips. “And on days off...? Say it, Y/n, no need for shyness here.”

“Ah!” Grabbing a pillow off the bed, she smacked him playfully. “I was trying to have a semi-serious conversation here, Dami!” Her face screwed into a pout, before transforming into a teasing smile. “If you’re gonna be like that, you won’t hear my idea at all.”

He immediately let go of her, hands in the air in surrender. “Fine, woman, no more teasing from me… for now.”

She leaned in closer. “Is that a threat? Or a promise? I was gonna say we could go out on a date. But,” she shrugged, “up to you.” Standing up she walked over to the phone on the desk, picking up the room service menu with her other hand. “Do you want anything? If we are gonna figure this out, we might as well have food.” It was no secret that she was trying to create space between the two of them. A little distance, a little chance to breathe, too afraid of a fire being set ablaze if they stayed any closer.

“Whatever pizza they have, please. It won’t quite be like home but even bad pizza is still pizza.” He watched as she picked up the phone, quickly muttering some words he didn’t understand down the line. “And then come back here. We should probably talk some more.”

She nodded, quickly finishing the conversation on the line, before sitting back down on the bed next to him, backs resting against the headboard. “Alright, so, talk about what? I know there are things to discuss but, what are you thinking right now?”

“How do you want to go on about this?” He asked, taking her hand and playing with it absentmindedly. “Do you want to tell the others anything?”

“We have to tell Vic, probably. She’ll never get off our case otherwise. Apart from that... I assumed that we would sort of make up for lost time. Be a bit more open, affection-wise. Or at least not feel like we have to hide it when I wanna kiss you. I don’t want to say we are dating. I don’t want to put a label on something that's this new. Rushing into something like this is just a recipe for hurt.” She found herself staring into the distance for a moment, thoughts running away with her, before turning back to him. “Do you want to tell people? I mean if you did that would be fine. I’d manage, you know.”

“No, actually. I’m quite fine with as few people knowing as possible. I just… There’s no need to get everyone involved in something that we’re literally still figuring out ourselves, right? And I definitely don’t need the fans to know. At least not yet. If that’s okay with you?”

“Dami, you do know that, if this becomes a long-term thing... They will hate me. It won’t be just your fans either. Management, event organisers, they won’t want me there, people will tell you to break up with me all the time. There will be a lot of rude comments. People will edit me out of pictures. Because that's how it is. Are you sure you’re okay with all that? This won’t be easy and I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of your success. The band's success.” She wasn’t making eye contact now, nervously picking at her nails instead. This was his chance to step back, to change his mind, and she was more afraid of it than she let on.

“Well, first of all, they can all fuck off, okay? No one gets to talk about you like that, not in front of me. If they don’t see you the way that I see you - or at least respect it-, they’re no real fans anyway.” He reached out, softly holding onto her chin and turning her face towards him. “I don’t care about anyone but you in this, okay? If anything, you’re the one pushing me to go farther, work harder, be better. Yeah?”

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” Her hand went to the one holding her face, kissing his palm and then pressing it into her cheek. “I mean it though. It will be hard and confusing, and I am not that good at communicating my feelings. You could have anyone in the world and you picked me which I will never understand, but I’m thankful for it. Both of us are workaholics. It won’t just be you having a busy schedule. Are you absolutely positive? Because if not...”

Taking her face into both of his hands now, he made sure she was looking at him. “I am more than positive. I want this, I want you, I want it all. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes for you to believe that.” He pressed another kiss to her lips, warm and inviting, and she was sure she could feel every single one of his emotions in it. There was nothing but love. Coming up for air, they let their foreheads meet, a moment of unspoken agreement.

“We will do it together, yeah?” She whispered as she pressed a kiss onto his lips once again before her face broke out in a grin. “Fuckin hell… Sorry, I just realized that we can kiss and hug and everything all the time now and without it being weird.” Grabbing his hand and interlacing their fingers, she rested her head on his shoulder. Both of them simply content in the silence of the room and the company of each other. After a while, Y/n looked up at him again. “Do you have any concerns though?”

“No real worries. Just... I don’t know. I just want to stare at you for a bit. Do you even know how crazy you make me? Throughout this whole tour I have been losing my mind!” His eyes flickered over her face, down her body, and back up. He kissed the top of her head. “Y/n you have no clue what you do to me. You remember when you body checked that guy into the wall in Germany?” She nodded as he lowered his head to whisper in her ear. “Cold showers did nothing for me that night.”

Giggles rattled her chest as she hid her face in her hand, feeling a slight blush coming on.

“Hey, no hiding that face from me!” Grabbing at her hands, he tried to pull them back down, but she resisted through her laughter. Desperately trying to pry her hands away, Damiano pinned her down onto the bed, back flush against the mattress, but he still wasn’t succeeding. In a last-ditch effort, he straddled her ample hips. The surprise of it all had her removing her hands on her own immediately, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Now, was that so hard?”

In one quick move, she locked her knees under his and flipped him over, making her sit on top of him. His body thudded into the mattress, jaw dropping, and a little hint of a blush appearing out of nowhere.

“Sorry love, won’t happen again,” she grinned, sending him another wink, before getting off of the stunned singer.

Y/n jumped up off the bed and started to rummage through the mini-fridge. Behind her, she heard the unmistakable sound of Damiano’s phone vibrating. And again. And again.

“What’s going on with that thing?” She asked over her shoulder, unable to hide a grin. Damiano sighed heavily, reading through the messages that seemed to keep coming.

“It’s Vic.”

“What’s she saying?”

Another buzzing sound interrupted them.

“Asking if we’re making out yet. Letting us know that she can hear us laughing. Wanting to know if we’ve fucked yet. Complaining that I’m not answering her messages.”

Damiano’s speech was, in turn, interrupted by Y/n’s phone letting out a similar buzzing noise. With a frown on her face, she gathered it from the nightstand, only to erupt into giggles at the message displayed on her screen.

“What’s so funny?”

“Vic has written, and I quote: ‘As happy as I am that this seems to be going well, I was actually looking forward to indulging in room-service food with you’ with a lot of frowny emojis added.”

Forming a fist with his hand, Damiano roughly hit the wall behind him - the one he knew connected the room to Victoria’s.

“Go get your own room service!” He shouted, and the laughter on the other side, paired with a flurry of emojis reaching both of their phones shortly after let them know she had heard.

“Oh stop it, whatever will you do without a bassist if she starves!” Y/n laughed. “Wait, how’s this.” Y/n coughed, preparing to change her voice into the best impression of Victoria she could muster. “Dami, you bastardo! Give me food!”

A knock on the door - much too polite to be Victoria’s - caught their attention, and Y/n scrambled to open it. A little wagon full of silver plates adorned with various meals greeted her. Not even caring about the confused look on the waiter’s face, she made quick work of grabbing most of what was on the tray and carrying it over to the desk, until only a few things were left.

“Would you mind bringing the rest to the woman next door? Thank you very much.”

As soon as she had closed the door behind her, she caught Damiano’s gaze, wide smile on his face.

“Whatever it takes to make Vic happy, hm?”

Y/n grinned. “Whatever it takes to get Vic to leave us alone.”

***

Y/n had no idea where she was when she woke up the next morning. It only lasted for a moment though - until it all came crashing down on her, the talk with Damiano, the kisses they'd shared, how they had spent the rest of the evening watching trash tv and stuffing themselves with food, until he had left for his own room, placing one last lingering kiss on her lips. She couldn't contain a smile at the memories. For a minute, she allowed herself to lay in bed, reminiscing about the way his mouth felt on hers and how she was now allowed to do that all the time. But work called, and the usual routine caught up with her. Getting ready for the day, re-checking the busy plan for the day, waking up the band. It was only in front of Damiano's room that she faltered a bit, before shaking it off and entering.

Damiano looked peaceful, fast asleep, the blanket only coming up to his waist. With quiet footsteps, she walked over to the bed, taking the view in for as long as she allowed herself. Her usual wake-up tricks would include pulling back curtains, gently talking, stealing blankets, a little shake if necessary. But the turn of their relationship was now providing her with new possibilities. Leaning down, she blew a bit of air against his cheek, watching as his eyelids fluttered but not quite opened yet. A little kiss followed on his cheek, just barely touching his skin. Then a kiss on his inviting lips. She almost pulled back, when a strong hand held onto the back of her head, Damiano suddenly wide awake and kissing her back.

"I could get used to these wake-up calls."

“Well, be a good boy and get dressed and you might be getting them more often,” she grinned, already halfway out the door. She knew if she didn’t leave now she probably wouldn’t for a while, and they did not have time for any delays.

“That better be a promise!” Damiano shouted after her, and she giggled, all the way back to her room, never having looked forward to a day of work quite this much.

***

The day was one of their most hectic ones yet, jumping between the hotel, the venue for soundcheck, dinner, a radio station, and back to the venue. Yet, for once, Damiano didn’t mind in the slightest. Not with the way he was now allowed to stare at Y/n all the time. No more worries about having to hide it, no more being afraid of being caught in the way his eyes kept lingering on her whenever she was nearby. Never mind the fact that he enjoyed teasing her.

He was well aware of how important her professionalism was for her, and he’d be the last person to slack off work because he was smitten. But, in the little moments in between, the waiting to go on air, the walking along a hallway, the little breaks and breathers, he simply couldn’t help himself. Especially not with the way she kept blushing and scolding him.

It was the small things. Brushing past her when he walked by. Letting his hand rest on her waist a little too long, always threatening to move lower, but never making the jump. Winking at her with the meanest smirk when the radio host asked a particularly spicy question. Texting her with the suggestion to unbutton her blouse just slightly more to keep him motivated. The latter was met with a stern look and her hands buttoning up the blouse a little more instead. Yet, throughout the day Y/n seemed to be more relaxed, while keeping up the impression of ‘everything is normal’. Well, she did the best she could when Damiano wasn’t giving her a hard time.

Victoria seemed to think it was the funniest thing in the world, constantly watching the two of them and snickering to herself. When Damiano told her to mind her own business - just for once - she only became more curious. Ethan and Thomas hadn’t caught on yet. Well, Thomas definitely hadn’t. Ethan had looked at Damiano a little strangely, eyebrows raised in question, when the singer had stared at Y/n a little too long, trying to catch her attention, but he hadn’t mentioned it.

Now it was less than an hour until showtime, everyone gathered backstage, and Damiano couldn’t remember the last time he had been quite this excited to play. London being their biggest gig on this tour certainly played a part, but the butterflies in his stomach every time he laid eyes on Y/n surely did the rest.

The dressing room was a mess, clothes everywhere, stylists and make-up artists scrambling to get their work done in time, which was proven increasingly difficult as Victoria and Thomas kept starting tickle fights. Damiano was sure the crew was ready to murder them at this point. Still waiting for his own turn to get dressed up, he let his gaze wander over to Y/n, who was sitting with Ethan, the drummer patiently painting her nails black.

“There,” he concluded. “You’re becoming more like us every single day.”

Damiano watched as she held up her hands, admiring the way the colour contrasted with her skin. Walking over to her, he let his hands rest on her shoulders as he stood behind her.

“And you’re barely even flinching anymore when one of us gets naked,” he grinned, shooting a glance at Victoria, who was running away from Thomas in a shirt and panties only. He bent down to whisper in her ear. “Unless that one of us is me, I hope.”

The smack on his arm landed harder than expected, Y/n once again a blushing mess, but Damiano couldn’t help but laugh. As long as he still had that kind of hold over her, he’d gladly make use of it.

***

Y/n took her usual seat, sending smiles to the crew and band as they readied up for the show. The crowd outside was deafening already, volume only increasing when the lights were slowly starting to dim. One by one, the band members came up to her, ready to get a last wish of good luck, but Damiano made quick work of shoving them away, giggling as he reached her first. Without a word of warning, he grabbed her head, planting a deft kiss on her lips, before letting go of her with the biggest grin on his face. Her eyes closed as soon as she felt his lips on hers, an involuntary reaction to the feeling of having him close.

“Are all of us gonna get some good-luck kisses like that now?” Victoria giggled from behind them, and Y/n couldn’t help landing yet another smack on Damiano’s arm that day.

“Nope,” he replied. “Singer privileges.”

With the proudest smile on his face he finally bounced on stage. The others quickly followed and Y/n was left in her seat, shaking her head. That man was going to be the death of her, she was sure of it. They hadn’t even gone official, and he was already clouding her mind every single second of the day. She watched him as he ran around on stage, energy higher yet than all of the other shows on that tour, thinking about how he never failed to amaze her, both as a performer and as a human being all in itself. She wasn’t quite sure what the future held for them, what the rest of this tour would bring them, but as she stared at him, she decided she was going to be fine with whatever it was. Despite her anxiety about the future, he would be there. As long as she could have a piece of him, a smile, a touch, a kiss, every now and then, she was going to be fine. Right? Watching him on stage was a blessing and a curse. She was so proud of him, of the band. As much as she loved them there still left a small voice of fear. How much was she willing to let them see? Let him see? The rest of the tour was still there, but she reminded herself of what he had told her the day before in her hotel room. They would figure it out together.

***

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#maneskin fiction #damiano david imagine #damiano david x you #damiano david x reader #damiano david fiction #maneskin imagine #maneskin x you #maneskin x reader #quiet music #bethanysnow #mywriting

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hlizr50 · 3 years ago

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Gwynriel Week Day 2 - Favorite Headcanon

Bow or Bleed

Read on AO3

-Gwyn-

Gwyn examined herself in the mirror, turning her hips and looking over her shoulder. She was technically covered, but also decidedly not, navy chiffon so dark it was nearly black waterfalled down her legs, the milky skin of her leg exposed by the hip-high opening. The top of the gown had long sleeves and a deep neckline past her breastbone, but it was also sheer – strategically placed beading and applique crept up her stomach and over her breasts. It was certainly the most scandalous thing she’d ever worn.

Azriel had warned her before the meeting with the High Lord, nearly three weeks before. Times were peaceful – something they were all thankful for – but Rhysand wanted to remind the denizens of the Hewn City of the Night Court’s might, introducing the new division of their defenses. Therefore, the three female leaders of the Valkyries were requested. Her mate had kept her hand firmly gripped in his for the duration of the discussion, and that silent support was just one of the many reasons she loved him. So was his deference to her decision. That was something that had been a little more difficult to achieve, the shadowsinger being as protective as he was, particularly where Gwyn was concerned.

They had discussed in depth what she would find in the Court of Nightmares and the expectations that came along with being in attendance in a position of power. And while, in the three years they had been together, they had explored any number of intimate situations and dynamics in the comfort of their private home, it was Azriel who had suggested that Gwyn be regarded as the dominant one of the two.

The inhabitants of the Hewn City know that I am to be feared. And I want them to see the woman who has tamed the infamous spymaster and cower. Not only from a perspective of your safety, but to be perfectly frank it would be incredibly arousing.

She had laughed at that.

And so Azriel and Gwyn had painstakingly discussed every detail, the two of them valuing preparedness and knowledge above all else. Where would they be expected to stand? How were they expected to interact with the rest of the inner circle and the Valkyries? He came with her to dress fittings, discussing how the fabric would move and working with the Valkyrie and the seamstress to ensure she looked tempting enough to draw attention, but covered enough that she wouldn’t be constantly pulling and tugging. They had even come home with a replica of the skirt so they could train together, for the unfortunate possibility that violence might become a necessity.

So here she was, with her chosen sisters, examining herself one last time before their entrance into the Court of Nightmares. When she looked up she found Nesta at her shoulder.

“Ready, Gwyn?” The redhead could see the faint glimmer of concern in her friend’s eyes.

A reassuring grin crinkled the freckles dotting the former priestess’ nose and the corners of her eyes. She trailed her fingers over the hilt of the dark blade sheathed at her thigh, drawing strength from its weight and the lingering power from the hands that wielded it. Gwyn nodded, the copper waterfall of her high ponytail brushing past her ears and cheeks.

“Let’s give them a show,” Emerie quipped with a smirk.

Gwyn regarded the two females that had been at her side, constant support and friendship and love over the past four years. Nesta was a queen in every sense, beautiful and dangerous, with a neckline that dipped even lower than her own. Her gown fit tight against her, black velvet rich and luxurious. She wore her weapon for everyone to see, the sword Ataraxia hanging from the black leather riding her hips. Her leg was also revealed by a near-indecent slit in the midnight cloth, the tightness of the dress pulling the ends apart and baring it for all to see.

And then there was Emerie, who had opted for pants, tailored just right to show off the strength in her legs. Black silk fell loosely from her honey brown shoulders creating lovely drapes over her front and baring her smooth muscled arms. The back of the garment only met at the small of her back, letting all appreciate the ripples and cords of muscle and the incredible wings that marked her as Illyrian.

Emerie smiled wryly, ready to intimidate, but it was Nesta who pushed open the wooden doors with as much force as she could muster. Gwyn was inwardly satisfied at the sound that cut through the cavern. She lifted her chin and fixed her gaze forward toward the raised dais, where the High Lord and Lady sat enthroned in dark power. She would not turn her gaze toward the shadowsinger as they strode in, footfalls synchronized as if they marched into battle. She kept her head lifted, near-arrogant smirk on her wine-painted lips.

But, Mother, could she feelhim. The flicker of power, the gold thread between them taut with heat and tightly coiled desire. Gwyn didn’t dare a glance, but she could feel the burn of his hazel gaze – likely now closer to molten gold – roaming over her.

The three Valkyries stopped at the foot of the dais, Nesta in front with Gwyn and Emerie at her shoulders. When they each fell to one knee before their High Lord and Lady, the copper-haired warrior could feel the cool, moist air prickling the skin of her now-exposed thigh. But she didn’t feel exposed, even with so much less of her covered than she was accustomed to. She didn’t feel weak, even as she bowed in the midst of this infamous court. She was a wholly different person from the quaking priestess that had been rescued from Sangravah, and it was this court that had helped build her up. She was a warrior, a Valkyrie, one of eight Carynthians to ever exist, and now she was a general. And through all that she had become a sister, friend, lover, and mate, and it was those bonds that truly gave her strength.

They rose and turned to face the court, and Gwyn did her best to observe nonchalantly. So many leering stares, expressions of disgust – so many fragile males opposed to the concept of powerful women.

“The Valkyries were legendary in the Great War, and we are pleased that these three females have resurrected their practice and built new ranks.” Rhysand’s voice was rich and dark, like the velvet that clung to Nesta’s skin. “As their skills have improved and their ranks have deepened, the Valkyries have been inducted as an official division of the Night Court defense. Even in times of peace we all know that it is imperative to remain dedicated and prepared. These three females join the ranks of my Inner Circle as generals, and they will be respected as such.” There was a pregnant pause after his statement, the court regarding the three of them, sizing them up. “Any word or action against them will be counted as a word or action against myself or the High Lady. And while all of the denizens of the Hewn City understand how I manage those slights, let them rest assured that these women will exact their own justice.” After one more glower over the crowd the females split apart, turning toward their respective mates.

That’s when she finally laid her eyes on the Spymaster of the Night Court, clothed in black leather and swathed in shadows. The angles and planes of his face, in this dark place, made him impossibly more beautiful. He was an imposing creature when he needed to be, and in the Court of Nightmares he would only be seen as this man of malice – an angel of death.

With near-glowing eyes fixed on her and her alone.

-Azriel-

This plan could have been a grave mistake.

Not because Gwyn wasn’t absolutely breathtaking and fearless, and not because he didn’t believe that any male would think twice before approaching her with the shadowsinger apparently on her leash.

No, this plan was very potentially a mistake because Azriel wasn’t sure he would be able to keep himself from swathing them in shadows and ravishing her in the middle of the damned great hall as soon as she was within arm’s reach.

He’d known what the dress would look like on her tall frame – he had accompanied her to consultations and fittings, ensuring that his mate would feel comfortable and safe during this foray into the sinister underbelly of the Night Court. The inspiration for Amarantha’s domain not-so-long ago.

To say that the idea of Gwyn stepping foot in this place had given him pause would be a grievous understatement. His shadows had twirled around his wings in agitation when Rhys had informed him, but he also knew that his mate was not the same girl he had rescued from Sangravah those years ago. He had agreed to let her hear the request and decide for herself what she would do, and he would be happy to do everything in his power to ensure that she was prepared.

The female that faced him now was nothing short of a queen.

Azriel found himself thinking back through the times that he had been rendered breathless by her astonishing beauty – more times than he could count. The first time he’d seen her in the Valkyrie leathers he thought he might have to leave the room, lest he melt into a heap on the floor before her. Their first Starfall together his shadows had frozen around him as he remembered how to breathe, her dress and eyes outsparkling the heavens. The evening of their mating ceremony, where a simple silk shift had sent tendrils of inky mist dancing and had nearly set his soul on fire.

Before him was a warrior, confident and ferocious. And his. Her skin was moonlight against the darkest blue the seamstress could find, curves barely concealed beneath lace and beading that had been expertly placed to toe the line between demure and deadly. Makeup was not something the former priestess indulged in often, but the wine-red that painted her full lips tempted him to lick his own and the kohl lining her teal pools only seemed to set them ablaze. The high ponytail was somewhat unexpected, but it was the sight of the blade strapped to her thigh – so dark it seemed to absorb any light that dared touch it – that had the breeches of his leathers tightening considerably and his twirling shadows thickening.

Truth-teller.

Neither of them needed weapons to be deadly, but that didn’t mean they would venture into the Court of Nightmares unarmed. And there would be no better way to send a message to any who dared covet his mate than for her to brandish the deadly blade that was known throughout the continent.

Gwyn strode toward him, head held high. She had schooled her expressive eyes into cool indifference, something she had likely learned from him, but Azriel could spy a glimmer of mischief. She was enjoying this game, and he was more than content to play it with her. He lowered his chin and dropped to one knee as she approached, and his shadows could hear the whispers of stunned onlookers as the spymaster placed himself firmly beneath the Valkyrie in the hierarchy. A wry grin curled his lips as he watched those exquisitely formed legs come to a halt before him and the hand at her right hip present itself. He kept his gaze fixed on the speckled flesh of her knuckles as he raised his own scarred hand, cobalt siphon flickering, and grasped her fingers before leaning in to reverently press his lips to her knuckles. He could feel the golden warmth of her satisfaction in his chest, sparks of desire intermixed.

When he released her hand it moved to his face, two long elegant fingers landing under his chin and pulling it upward. Lifting his gaze, he found her face alight with fierce confidence.

“Shadowsinger,” she purred, applying more pressure to encourage him to rise before her. Their stares were transfixed in the eyes of the other as he did so, her hand only moving far enough to land in a possessive grip toward the back of his neck. He couldn’t hide the smirk that crawled over his lips, enamored as he was with the predatory confidence that she wore.

“My lady,” he murmured, dipping his chin. “You look absolutely exquisite.” The slightest pink blossomed on her cheeks, proving that she was not completely immune to his charm. She circled him and stepped up behind him onto the first stair to the dais, keeping her palm on is neck. He had to stifle a groan, reveling in her possessive touch and the heat of her at his back between his wings. Her breath snaked across his ear and his skin pebbled, her lips like a phantom touch over the shell of it.

“You are beautiful and dark, as always, love,” Gwyn whispered before dipping her chin and pressing those soft painted lips just below where the sharp line of his jaw met his neck. His breath shuddered and his mate gave a soft giggle. “Your shadows are quite… friendly tonight.”

“Well, lovely general, I can hardly be expected to control them when you make it so difficult for me to even manage myself,” Azriel breathed.

“Hmmm. You do make an excellent point.” She gripped his jaw and pulled it to the side to claim his lips with a bruising kiss. When she released him he nearly drowned in the teal pools that captured his gaze. He could see the challenge there, the desire, the pride. He loved when he could glimpse those things in her expression, when he could put those feelings there. Gods, the way it felt to bow before her, to be the one she trusted to submit to her will. It was a distinct possibility he wouldn’t survive the night.

“I know you have duties, Shadowsinger,” the Valkyrie stated softly, dropping her fingers from his jaw. His permission to leave her side, to stride through the shadows and dark corners of this hall to ensure that members of this court still understood the price of disrespect and the power of fear. He turned, tucking his wings tight to avoid striking her. He meant to look back into those piercing, starlit eyes, but his gaze caught on Truth-teller at her thigh. He lifted a mottled hand and settled his palm over the hilt, letting his callused fingers brush delicately over that tempting sliver of porcelain flesh. Leaning down, he brushed his mouth over the peek of skin just above his thumb.

“Wine, my lady?” He straightened and grinned crookedly at her flushed neck and chest. She dipped her chin in confirmation and he turned, striding into the throng of revelers. Hopefully his High Lord didn’t expect him to listen too closely. It was peacetime, after all, and he had to contend with every delicious image of Gwyn flashing through his mind. Hopefully his shadows would pick up on anything glaring and drag his attention out of the gutter.

He had retrieved two goblets and turned back toward the dais when he felt a twinge of anxiety in his chest, tightening the golden thread that connected the Shadowsinger and the Valkyrie. He weaved quickly in and out of the dark swaths in the hall, his shadows carrying to him the echoes of words between her and a yet-unknown male.

“…quite an actress, priestess…”

Azriel quieted the snarl that threatened to push through his lips as he rounded a pillar silently, finding Gwyn’s back pressed against it and the male – one of the darkbringers, he realized – doing his best to tower over her. He stayed silent, tucked into the darkness. He had vowed not to intervene until it became obvious that she couldn’t handle the situation. And while he had felt the moment of uncertainty in their bond, his mate looked calm and nonchalant – if not a small bit annoyed.

“Although I find it difficult to believe that a timid acolyte from the library sanctuary could best the Spymaster. They say the women in the great library have experienced great horrors, but perhaps if you warm the bed of the angel of death, you’re into that kind of thing.”

The male had lifted a hand to Gwyn’s face, making to touch her. And quick as the wind she had Truth-teller in her hand, blade against a particularly sensitive part of the male who thought he could dare to insinuate what he did, much less dare to touch her. Azriel saw the rage sparkling in her gaze, all traces of anxiety and annoyance gone.

“Think very carefully about the next thing you say,” she hissed. When the male tried to smirk and play it off she pushed the blade the slightest bit deeper, the edge biting into the leather of his pants. “I am a general. I won the Illyrian Blood Rite. I have bested far more intimidating creatures than yourself. So do ask yourself if you want to test your luck.”

Azriel’s lips twisted into a sadistic smile, basking in the glow of his mate’s strength. Her eyes darted to him for a split second, and the male’s eyes followed. The color drained from his face when he saw the rippling shadows twisting and rising like flames over his shoulders and wings. But a push against the dagger at his crotch shifted his attention back to Gwyn.

“Hear me now, brute,” she seethed. “I do not always keep my Shadowsinger so tightly leashed. And he does not take kindly to unimpressive, brainless males touching the female that he belongs to.” My Shadowsinger. The female that he belongs to. Mother above, those words went straight to his already-straining cock. “So I hope that little thrill that pulsed through your undoubtedly underwhelming dick when you thought you could intimidate me and bend me to your desires… I do so hope it was worth it.”

The male stepped away with hands raised, but the copper-haired queen kept her blazing stare on him, dagger still ready in her hand.

“Shadowsinger, I hope you have that wine,” she cooed, sheathing the weapon when Azriel stepped to her side. He offered her the goblet and then offered her an arm, muscles and shadows tremoring from barely contained fury. His instincts warred within him, an urge to rip the male limb from limb against the desire to whisk his mate into an alcove and plunge his tongue between her legs until she was screaming his name. He wasn’t sure if he had ever desired her with such a feral male pride, and from the heat blooming across her chest he could tell that she could feel that pulsing need through their bond. But her breathing was slightly more shallow than normal, and he remembered that nervous twinge he’d felt before she’d nearly castrated the man. The spymaster let them to a darkened corner, shadows swallowing them and hiding them from prying eyes and ears.

“Are you alright, songbird?” All pretense and games were gone, leaving only the soft voice of a protective male concerned for the love of his eternity. He took her wine glass and set both of them on the stone floor. When he straightened he pinned her with his gaze and raised callused fingers to trace the freckles on her cheek. Gwyn sighed a calming breath and leaned into his touch.

“Yes, love. I was nervous for a moment, but I think I handled things quite well,” she smiled widely. He released a dark chuckle of his own, stepping into her and pinning her gently against the wall. Azriel tilted his head and leaned down, pressing his lips against the sensitive space under hear ear. Nipping at it, then flicking his tongue over the spot to soothe it, smiling against her soft flesh as he felt her gasp beneath him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more aroused in my life, Gwyneth Berdara,” he uttered into her neck, voice low and guttural. He pressed his hips against her, letting her feel what she had done to him. “When you called me yours, when you said I belong to you… Gods, nothing has ever been truer.”

Azriel dragged his lips wantonly over her jaw toward her mouth, nipping at her bottom lip when he got there. He was on fire for her, every inch of him aflame with want for his warrior queen. He crushed his lips into hers, tongue beseeching. She gave in without pause, and he greedily pulled at her lips and tongue. He wanted to breathe her in, needed to taste her.

“Azriel,” she gasped, but he continued pouring himself into her, only stopping when her hands cupped his face gently. He pulled back and took in her swollen lips and lust-darkened eyes. “We need to behave, remember?” The shadowsinger groaned, earning a musical laugh from the Valkyrie. He leaned his forehead against hers.

“Fine,” he growled. “But as soon as we get home, rest assured, I will have you. And I want you to keep Truth-teller on that pretty thigh.”

Gwyn’s cheeks turned crimson and his throat rumbled with approval. He pressed a quick, hard kiss into her lips before stepping back, giving her some air to cool the heat on her face. Swiftly, he scooped up their wine goblets and offered his elbow to her.

“Ready to terrorize more unsuspecting males, my lady?” Azriel grinned wickedly, and she threw her head back, a cackle erupting from her throat. She tucked her starkissed hand into the crook of his arm.

“Always, Shadowsinger.” Quickly, before he let his shadows disperse, she pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek. “I love you.”

The bond burned golden fire in his chest, swelling with love and contentment and bliss. “I love you, too, Berdara.” He murmured, and then they were in the throng again, the music and revelry of the Hewn City swallowing them. He let his shadows wander and listen, but his attention was focused on his mate for the remainder of the evening. He marveled at her confidence, her strength, the pride she felt at being able to conquer this moment. Feyre may be his High Lady, but Gwyneth Berdara was his queen. And, if tonight was any indication, he would gladly bow before her for the rest of his immortal life.

#gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel week #gwynriel fanfic #gwynriel supremacy #gwynriel

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kimnjss · 4 years ago

Text

petty games | pjm

⇢ pairing: ot7 x reader // jimin focus. ⇢ genre: smut. // pure unedited filth. ⇢ word count: 6.2K ⇢ theme: established relationships. ⇢ rating: explicit. ⇢ warnings: cursing, slight dirty talk, fingering, light dry humping, oral sex (m. receiving), orgasm denial, jimin is petty as hell lmao, squirting, unprotected sex, two quick handjobs, interrupted orgasms, blowjobs, masturbation, finger licking... i think that’s it?? idk let me know . ⇢ A/N: sooo if this feels all over the place it’s because i wrote this nd the newest update for ‘be my baby’ literally an hour apart from each other nd my brain is fried.

Jimin has always been the biggest tease out of your seven boys. He loved to watch you squirm and never passed up an opportunity to make you beg. You could always tell when he was in a particularly teasing mood because he'd always start out by flat out ignoring you. Denying you the attention that you wanted throughout the day, that sexy smirk weighing on his lips the entire time.

Today was one of those days. It had started when you opted to ride with Jin and Jungkook on your way back to the mountains. A lighthearted joke about his reckless driving which was met with a playful eye roll and mocking laughter.

Not thinking much of it after that, you enjoyed the smooth ride back. Filling up on the yummy food from Tae's mom and chatting with the other cars through the walkie-talkie's.

It's when you're pulling up to the house land do you realize your mistake. May have laughed a little too hard at the fact he left his luggage behind, joining in with Hobi on the teasing. Jimin laughs along too, not entirely annoyed – especially after he's finding out his luggage is being brought in a different car.

That didn't mean he wasn't going to get his own version of payback for all your teasing in the few hours you were with each other.

He's moving in close as you make you way up toward the house, strong hands landing on your hips as he halts your step – pulling your body into his chest. You're instantly surrounded by his warmth, can feel the ripples of his stomach through the fabric of your clothing. The blow of breath against your ear has a shiver running down your spine.

And warmth pooling between your legs.

“You just think everything's so funny, huh?” His voice is gruff in your ear, much deeper than the usual sweet tone he uses when he's talking to you. Without even making the effort to peak at his face, you just know there's fire in his eyes.

You were never one to just cower away, though. “Is it not funny?” You challenge, feeling his grip slightly tighten around you.

He's scoffing quietly in your ear, brow lifting as he tilts his head. Your body shivers when you feel the sharpness of his teeth nibble at your lobe. “Alright, we'll see.” He mumbles, all at once releasing you.

Walking the rest of the way into the house as if he didn't just shake you to the core. Easily had you near drooling, ready for him with a set of simple words. 'We'll see' and you were more than ready to figure out what that was.

After a delicious lunch, where you spent the majority of it sat close to Hoseok, joining in on the random conversation that flowed around you, you're following Yoongi up to the Upper House.

The entire short walk up, he's filling you in on how much he improved on the game he was currently interested in. A long arm wrapping around your waist as he speaks. Not forgetting to mention how he once asked Jimin what his score is, laughing cutely when he reveals what the young boy's answer was.

Yoongi is easily pulling you into his lap as his long fingers tap against the mouse, waking up the desktop. You're able to relax against him at once, his strong arm wrapped around your waist and your head resting on his shoulder.

The sweet smell of him intoxicates you, always smelt a bit like honey. But beneath all of that a scent you can only describe as him. His chin rests on your shoulder, eyes staring on the screen and you're sure this is the most comfortable you've ever felt. He's focused on the game but the gentle stroke of his fingers over your belly never falters.

Drawing random patterns against your skin, soothing you against him. You don't talk. Simply enjoying the comfortable silence that comes with being in his arms. Watching as he mumbles at the screen, controlling his character on the screen in hopes to up his ranking.

The touch against your skin never strays too far from innocent. Even with the cool dampness of his fingers from his drink against your warm skin, he doesn't push it. No matter how many times you shift in his arms. Fingers dragging down the front of your body until he's able to grasp your thigh, the shorts you're wearing allowing him to meet the smoothness of your skin.

“You just shaved?” He wonders, eyes never lifting from the screen. He speaks like it's an afterthought, a mere observation instead of something that was done for his benefit. Either way, you're nodding, tilting your head up so you can steal a glance at his features.

Lips brushing gently over the shell of his ear as you speak. “Full body wax,” His brow lifts, fingers twitching against your skin as if he's daring to check just how 'full body' you're talking. Yoongi doesn't go right for it, takes him time with his advances. Half his focused still on the game, but now he's a bit more tuned into you.

Open-mouthed kisses are pressed against the skin of your shoulder, tongue lightly brushing you just before he's closing his lips around a bit of skin. That paired with the teasing stroke of his fingers on your thighs has you squirming in his arms. He's gentle with the way he touches you, simply enjoying how soft you feel underneath his fingertips.

Yet, each movement is inching higher every time. His kisses growing a bit more heated, teeth coming out to scrape against your skin. Still, one hand still remains on the mouse, directing his character on the screen and even though he wasn't doing all that well, you still didn't have the full attention you wanted.

So you're shifting in his lap, wiggling until you're straddling his thigh. His eyes flicker from the screen to your hand that travels down the front of his body, the tips of your fingers sneaking underneath the waistband of his pants. And he hisses, you've barely touched him and a sharp hiss has left his lips.

Sat in anticipation as you take your time with lowering your hand underneath the band, fingers tense on the mouse. “Shit,” The curse falls from his lips in the same moment his character loses, but you're positive he's referring to the fact that you've wrapped your hand around his shaft.

He's warm in your hand, quickly hardening as you move your hand toward the tip – rolling your thumb over it slowly. Without the game stealing his attention, Yoongi's hand moves more deliberately on you, fingers sneaking into your shorts to meet the lace of your panties.

“Let me take care of you, baby.” His words mumbling into your ear, free hand lifting to pull yours from his pants. Needing a clear head to concentrate on pleasuring you. A jolt of pleasure rushes through your body from the feeling of him teasing your clit. Slowly rolling it between his middle and ring finger as whimpers fall from your lips. “Feel good, baby?”

You're nodding, breathlessly, legs spreading wide for him. It's not long before a wet patch is forming at the front of your panties, the fabric sticking to your skin as he strokes you through it. The feeling has grin pulling at his lips, instantly sliding his hand underneath to meet the softness of your bare pussy.

“Soft,” He sighs in appreciation, a finger dipping into your wanting hole. Walls squeezing around the digit, protesting each time he draws back. His thumb comes up to tease your clit with each thrust, loosening you up until he's able to slide another finger inside of you.

Yoongi pushes in deep, despite the tightness of your walls around him. Groaning along with you when they constrict around the digits. “You're so tight... would feel so good around my cock,” His hips lift at the thought, ready to try out his theory.

He doesn't make any moves to do so, fingers staying buried deep inside of you as his thumb teases your clit. Your hips are doing all the work, fucking yourself on his fingers and he watches with great fascination each roll of your hips. Soft lips press against the side of your neck, allowing you to have your fun.

But only for a moment. It's not long before he's lifting his hand, stilling the movement of your hips, and pulling his fingers back. You're whining out in protest, attempting to chase his fingers with your hips – but he's got a good hold on you.

“Oh!” You're shouting when his fingers drive back into you. Curved upward to drag over the most sensitive spot buried inside of you. Your legs shake with the sudden pleasure, fist gripping his thigh, taking advantage of his loosened grip to rock your hips. “I'm c-close, fuck, Yoongi!” The tingle starts between your legs, quickly traveling throughout your limbs.

It's not long before your hips begin to buck, walls clenched tight around his fingers. Eyes rolled back as your teeth cut into your lower lip. So close you can almost taste it. Just needed a bit more...

And then it's gone. Ripped away from you so fast it takes you a moment to piece it together in your head. Yoongi's pulled his fingers from inside of you, busying himself with licking them clean. An innocent smile spreading across his features when you whip around to face him.

“What was that!?” You're out of breath and it's evident in your tone. Cheeks flushed and head foggy from your near orgasm. Barely able to sort out your thoughts, but that doesn't stop the glare from forming on your features.

He's leaning up, wet lips pressing to the tip of the nose. Finding your angry face extremely adorable. “What was what, baby?” He asks pulling out, so casual that you're wondering if you hadn't just imagined the whole thing.

But the shine on his lips says otherwise. Yoongi's leaning up once more, lips catching your cheek this time. “Think I'm pretty tired. Wanna go join the others while I rest?” And you're so confused that all you can think to do is nod.

Sliding off of his thigh so he can stand, he gives an exaggerated stretch before he's leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. You watch as he takes lazy steps toward the outside door, hand lifting to ruffle his own hair.

Your mind stuck on one thing. What just happened?

Taehyung is the first person you see on your way back to the Main House. He's heading in from the lake, shirt slightly damp and hair floppy cutely around his face. He smiles brightly when he spots you, an arm lifting to wrap over your shoulders – tucking your body into his side.

“You look happy.” He nods, the cute smile he wears growing slightly. “It's so peaceful here,” There's a dream-like tone in his voice which has a grin breaking onto your features. Pleased to see him so relaxed, so in his element here.

It's what he deserved with such a hectic lifestyle. It's what they all deserved. Your arm is wrapping around his waist as you nod in agreement, walking wrapped around him the rest of the way to the Main House.

A sleeping Jungkook is the first thing you spot when you're entering the house. Sprawled out not too far from him is Jin, who is also fast asleep a rolled pillow underneath his back. Hoseok and Jimin build quietly side-by-side, cautious not to make too much noise in fear of waking them up.

Taehyung is carefully unwrapping himself from you, moving to take a seat at the table, finding interest in the half-finished game laid on it. Just with a quick survey of the room, you're instantly noticing someone is missing.

“Where's Joon?” Words directed to either Hoseok or Jimin, but Hoseok is the only one that turns his attention to you.

Jimin on the other hand doesn't look up from the game that he's holding, reading the words that are printed on the back as if his life depended on it. Not paying him much mind, you shift your gaze onto Hoseok.

“He went upstairs to read his book,” He tells you, eyes dragging over your frame before he's turning his attention back to the building blocks he's been working so hard on since you've arrived.

Joon is as advertised, sat in his room with a book in hand. One long leg cross over the other as his large hand holding up his face, pretty eyes scanning over the words on the page. His head turns to you as you enter, lips lifting into a smile while sitting up, tucking the flap of the cover inward to hold his place.

“Don't stop cause I'm here, I like watching you read.” Sinking your bum into the comfort of his bed, you lean back on your elbows. Able to look at him over the bridge of your nose and boy, does he look handsome.

He looked really good in nature, you're deciding. Of course, the hairspray and makeup that came with his one stage persona were eye-catching, but there was something about a bare-faced Joon with messy hair, doing something as simple as reading that had a different type of feeling bubbling in your stomach.

With a quick shake of his head, he's standing, setting the book down on the wooden table set at the foot of his bed. “I'd much rather pay attention to you,” His voice is deep, smile revealing the dimples you have fallen for ten times over.

The bed dips as he lifts his body onto it, arms caging you against him. His face is just inches from yours, close enough that you can see the shades of brown hidden in his dark eyes. Soft bangs tickle your forehead as he leans in, the gentlest of kisses pressed to your lips. “I'm glad you came back with us. They've missed you.”

Always one to speak for the time, hardly ever bringing up his own feelings unless he's provoked. Usually, you're taking what he says as a whole. Assuming that when he speaks of the other's he's also speaking for himself. Not this time, though.

You want to hear him say it. They had gone back to Seoul for a few days and with how busy their schedule instantly got you weren't able to see them at all while they were there. Which wasn't unusual, considering how in demand these boys were. But, it was a harsh change from being able to fall asleep with them, wake up in their arms, play whenever you wanted, laugh happily together... to absolutely nothing.

With the lift of your arms, you're able to wrap them around his neck – back falling against the soft mattress with the absence of their leverage. Joon's leaning with you, arms moving quickly to keep himself from completely crushing you as he hovers. “What about you?” Eyes searching his as confusion furrows his brow.

“Did you miss me too?”

There's a soft tint in his cheeks, the dust of pinkness that gives way just how much he missed you. Either way, the sight of the blushing smile that pushes on his lips, the heartwarming: “Missed you like crazy,” That falls from his lips, has your heart rate rising in the best way.

So much so, that you don't hesitate to press your lips back against his. Mouth moving over each other's slowly as your fingers knit themselves in his soft hair. His lips taste like sweet coffee, warm. He's able to pull a soft moan from your lips by sucking your lower lip between his teeth.

Hands sliding down to grasp your waist, holding your body to his just for a moment before he's reaching down. Joon's fingers dig into your thighs as he lifts your legs, wrapping one around his hip so he's able to lower himself in the space he's created.

Your hands slide underneath his shirt, nails scraping over the toned skin. His cock jumps from the contact, paying great attention to the drag of your fingers that seems to slip just low enough to barely graze the growing bulge in his pants. He's pushing his wet tongue past your lips, rolling it with your as his hips roll down.

The slow drag of his hard length against your cover clit has a whimper falling from your lips. Hips lifting to his, moans dying on his tongue. His hold on your thigh tightens, tugging your body flush against his until it feels as if there's nothing separating you. A loud pop parts your lips, and you're only allowed a moment to admire how he looks right now.

Eyes hooded, cheeks flushed, and lips wet and bitten red from your teeth. Joon is quickly lowering his head into the crook of your neck, sucking marks into the skin as the thrusts of his hips pick up in speed. He's using his grip on you to guide your movements, ensuring that your clit is meeting his cock with each lift.

Quickly, you're growing desperate. That familiar pressure building in your stomach from the consistent stimulation to your most sensitive area. Lips, teeth, and tongue work to create pretty bruises on the skin of your neck, following a wet trail until he's reaching the tops of your breasts.

Light kisses are placed against your cleavage, while a hand sneaks up to tease your nipple through the fabric of your shirt. This has a pang of arousal shooting through your body, back arching as a panted moan flies from your lips. “Fuck, Joon.” There's no point in hiding the whine that coats your voice.

His smirk is felt against your skin, teeth baring to nibble at your skin while his finger tweaks and pinches your nipple into a peak. All the while, his hips haven't slowed down their roll into your core. Legs wrapped tight around him, you can feel every inch through the fabric of his sweats.

You're close, can tell from the way your walls clench around nothing. And he can tell from the frantic lift of your thighs, desperate to reach your high. His hips slow, head leaning back to reveal that teasing smirk to your dazed eyes. “You close, baby?”

“Yes, yes... please,” Not even able to finish your sentence, because his hips are stopping completely. Stealing away any ounce of friction you once had. A soft kiss is pressed to your protesting lips, body moving from yours before you can properly objection.

Scrambling to sit up, your eyes narrow at him from where he now stands across the room. Picking his book up as if he hadn't just had you right at the edge of an orgasm. “Joon!” Your shout has his head lifting, mocking confusion written on his features.

“Yeah, baby?” A wide gesture of your hand is directed toward you, in a type of 'duh' motion that's also written across your features. He acts as if he has no idea what you're talking about, hand lifting to push his hair back on his forehead. “I'm gonna go shower, I'll be back.”

Despite your annoyance, he's still leaning over the bed to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Hands buried in his pockets to keep from pulling you toward him or anything of the sort. His book tossed and forgotten on the chair and you're laid back on his bed watching as he stalks into the bathroom.

Not a care in the world. Not even sparing a backward glance.

“Jimin, do you want to come play ping pong with me?” Asking as you enter the room, Hoseok in the same spot as before with even more Lego pieces placed out in front of him. Jimin holds an iPad in his hand, eyes focused on the TV as he scrolls through for a song to Karaoke.

A quick glance is spared in your direction, so quick if you hadn't been staring at him the way you were – you would've missed it. “No thanks, I'm gonna do this.” He's gesturing to the screen, a pout instantly taking over your features.

“Are you still grumpy with me?” He's not answering, ignoring you with that smirk on his face as he waits for his song to load.

It seems like whatever he's on has spread throughout the house. First the build up with Yoongi, that took you longer than it should've to put together that it wasn't just in your head. Then, the whole thing with Joon upstairs. Being teased by both of them and ignored by Jimin who couldn't seem to get rid of that smirk.

Yeah, something had to be up.

With nobody to ping the pong with, you're entering the room. Sitting crisscross in front of Hobi while Jimin sings his heart out behind you. “Can I build with you?” He's nodding instantly, two large hands pushing the pieces closer for you to reach. The rest of the night continues like that.

Happily building with Hoseok as Jimin sings in the background, now joined by Taehyung. Joon chimes in here and there from the deck where he paints. If it weren't for the dull ache between your legs, called from the two denied orgasms earlier – you'd be the most relaxed you've ever been.

Because it's nice. And you're able to stay in this semi comfort zone until dinner is rolling around. Called up by a hurried Jungkook, a proud smile on his face as he fills the room in on his newfound flat fish filleting skills. You're all heading up to the set table at once, taking seats around.

Sat between Jungkook and Jimin, body leaning toward the elder subconsciously. In need of some type of attention from him and he's enjoying depriving you of it. Not sparing a gaze as he shovels food into his mouth, but you don't miss the way he transfers your favorite bits of soup into your cup.

Still grumpy with you, your foot. It's sad, how the simple action has you buzzing, but it does. And the dopey smile doesn't drop from your features the entire time you're sat beside him eating. Something as small as this having you swooning, so imagine your excitement when his arm is wrapping around your shoulders as you stand.

“Think you've been teased enough tonight?” His words are mumbled into the ear, the only thing you hear over the member deciding on who was going to stay back and clean up. So he did have something to do with it! Not sure how or when he rounded up his Hyungs to play along with his little game, but it made so much sense now that you knew they were in on it.

The 'we'll see' he had mumbled in your ear earlier holding much more weight now. That doesn't keep you from leaning into him, nodding your head quickly. “It's not so nice, now is it?” Sharp teeth graze over your lobe, the heat of his body pressed to yours and if you had a little bit less decency you'd be pushing him down onto the now cleared table.

The thought lingers in your mind a moment longer than you're willing to admit.

“No, it's not.” You try not to pout, but it's hard when you're emotions are on a high and all you want is some type of release. It's like Jimin is somehow reading your mind, his hands dropping to grasp your hips. He's leading you away from the table and into the house.

The giddy feeling grows in your stomach, the closer you get to his bedroom.

The moment the door is pushed closed, his lips are on yours. Body pressing yours against the wall as he moves his mouth in time with yours. His hands dropping down to reach for your thigh, lifting it off the floor to wrap around his hip.

“It's so hard to stay away from you.” He's mumbling through a groan, the pull from his teeth on his lower lip sending a shiver down your spine. You're pushing into him, arms wrapping around his neck as you pulling him closer. Wanting to feel more of him. Desperate for more of him. So worked up, from the teasing through the day. You're sure you'd fall apart with a simple swipe of his fingers.

Words swallowed by the plushness of his lips. “Don't do it again,” He's grinning against your mouth, pulling back to show off those straight white teeth of his. Loving the sight of the pout that curves your mouth. “You're so cute when you get pouty, though.” As if he needs to prove his statement, his fingers are reaching out to poke your pushed out lip.

“Never again.” You warn, attempting to sound intimidating, but it doesn't work in the way you think. Jimin's arms are reaching down to circle around your thighs, easily lifting your body off of the floor. Body higher than his, you're able to look down at him. Hands braced on his shoulders as he rests your back against the wall again.

He's leaning up, mouth attaching to the exposed skin just above your collarbone. It's the slow drag of his tongue that has your body squirming in his hold. Lips parting in a gasp when his teeth tug at the skin, your fingers curling into his messy hair. Your hips roll against his in response, pulling a grunt from his lips at the friction.

His shaft gently pressing against your thigh has you aching for more. Quick to reach your hand between your bodies, determination in your movements. Jimin's hissing out a breath when your hand is covering him through the fabric of his jeans.

Only resting your palm over his bulge and it doesn't take long before he's grinding against your fingers. His mouth on your neck leaving much sloppier kisses, concentration faltering with your hand on him. Meeting him halfway, you're stroking your fingers over him, spreading them so you're able to reach his balls too.

“Fuck,” Jimin grunts, head bowing so his forehead is rested against your shoulder. You feel him harden under your touch, his hips rocking freely in tandem with the movement of your hand over him. Hips twitching as your fingers squeeze around him, teeth digging into the plush skin of his lip.

He's reaching down, grasping your wrist in his. Slowly, he guides your palm into beneath the elastic waistband, lips finding yours at the same time he's curling your fingers around his shaft. A moan is falling from your lips with the feel of the velvety skin. One experimental thrust has a drawn-out groan falling from his lips, hips lifting to chase your hand.

You've shifted in his arms, managed to straddle his thigh instead. You're impressed with the amount of strength he's putting forth to hold you up, all while pleasure racks through his body. Not one to have a muscle kink... but right now, who knows?

Jimin's moans follow the movements of your hands, the twist that you had when you reach the top. How you've still managed to palm his balls with your free hand. It's when your thumb is teasing the sensitive clit that his hips are stuttering to a stop, a murmured cruse falling from his lips.

“Suck me off,” Enough space between your faces now that you can clearly see his face. How fucked out you were able to make him, just in the few minutes you had been jerking him. “Please.” He adds, not wanting his desperation to come off as rude. Which has a giggle falling from your lips.

Clambering down in front of him, kneeled down in front of him. And you look pretty even at this angle. Lips slightly swollen from the amount of enthusiasm he put into kissing you. His hands scramble to lower his pants off his hips, your eyes being met with the large bulge that strains against his briefs.

Hands moving faster than his this time, you're grasping the sides of the underwear, taking your time with pulling them down his legs. His cock bounces in its release, long, pretty, and glistening with a thin layer of precum, which has drool pooling on your tongue. Hands set on his thighs, so he's reaching down to wrap his hand around his shaft.

The muscles in his stomach constrict as he strokes his palm against himself. He looks so good standing over you like this, firm grip holding his cock in place while his free hand reaches to pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail. Jimin uses his grip to pull you closer to him, and your mouth is opening instantly.

Tongue pushed out, the head of his cock is warm against the wet muscle. The breathy moan that leaves Jimin's mouth as he's pushing deeper into your mouth fills the room, sending a shock of arousal throughout your core. A single hand wrapped around his base to properly guide him into your wanting mouth.

Hips following the movement, eyes fluttering as he glides deeper past your lips. “Fuck, so warm, baby.” Fingers flex with the grip he holds in your hair, hesitating to pull you further onto him. His hesitance is met with the way your hands slide from his thighs to the roundest part of his ass, tugging him closer.

A hissed breath falls from his lip, the hand that had been clutching his shaft lifting to move his shirt out of the way. Only so he can watch you properly, hips slowly thrusting into your open mouth. Eyes lifting to take him in, head slightly tilted back, jaw clenched revealing that vein at the side of his neck.

His eyes are meeting yours, which awakens a fire in his stomach. Pulling back slightly, only to push back harder into your mouth. He watches the way you're able to swallow him down with each thrust, mouth wide and watery eyes staring up at him. “So pretty,” Jimin mumbles, fingers tightening in your hair.

He holds your head still this time as he pulls back, moving slowly as he pushes further. Throat instantly constricting from the tickle of his hip, you fight the cough that claws its way up your throat, urging your throat to relax.

Jimin's quickly falling into a steady pace. Hips rocking against your face as he watches his cock disappear inside of your mouth with each forward push. Drool pools around your lips, mixing messily with the precum that leaks from his tip. Eyes watery from the strain, but still pretty in Jimin's eyes.

There was something different that came with sucking Jimin off. The way he looked at you, the desire written in his lust-filled stare. It always made you feel hot. Wanted. And this time is no different, wetness pooling between your thighs and you're not sure if it's from his stare or his cock between your lips.

Either way, it has a hand sliding down the front of your body. Two fingers easily pushing past your dripping walls. Jimin's eyes are following the movement of his fingers, a soft gasp falling from your lips once they're between your legs. He fastens his pace almost on instinct, never tearing his gaze from the push of your fingers inside of you.

Concentration split between sucking him off and fucking yourself, hips rocking to help you along the way. The movement of your fingers matches the roll of his hips. Heel of your hand hitting against your clit each time you're pushing in deep, forcing a muffled moan through your lips.

He watches the skillful way your fingers move inside of you, how deep you push them, and the attention that you pay to your clit. Hips rolling to meet the thrust of your fingers. You had been so worked up all day that you're reaching the edge sooner than usual. The stretch of your fingers, paired with him cock down your throat has you teetering until you're tumbling over with one powerful thrust.

Your orgasm washes over you like a wave, thighs threatening to close which only results in lifting your hips. The spray of your orgasm is forcing your fingers from inside of you, quickly lifting them to tease your clit as ride the rest of it out. Whimpered moans muffled by the cock in your mouth.

The vibrations of your voice shoot through his shaft, stomach caving in while his cock twitches on your tongue. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His chant is followed by the drag of his cock leaving your mouth. It's wet with your saliva, a thing line of it keeping your lips connected to him.

Jimin scrambles to reach for you, lifting you off your knees. There's haste in his step as he crosses the bedroom, laying your body onto his bed. He's just as fast with hovering over you, mouth capturing your as he pushing his tongue against yours. Tongue twisting and swirling with yours and he can taste himself heavily through the kiss.

One hand nudges your legs apart, the other wrapped firmly around his shaft. “I didn't want to cum before I fucked you,” He's explaining through an embarrassed laugh; which has a laugh falling from your lips as well, legs parting wider for him. “Fuck me, then.”

He doesn't need to hear it twice before his bulbous head is pushing against your entrance. Wet from your previous orgasm, the wet squelch fills the room as he breaks through the first ring of resistance.

His dark eyes burn into yours as he pushes his way past your tight walls. Soft groans falling from his lips with each inch that sinks deeper into you. Your fists grip the bedsheets beside you, the pained pleasure of the stretch of him clouding your senses. He's got one hand firmly set on your hip, the other keeping your leg lifted and out of the way.

“Oh, God.” You whimpering, when the last bit of him pushes past your walls. Hips flush against yours. His grasp is moving from your hip to lift your other leg onto his waist, sliding just a bit deeper.

Only a moment is spared for you to get used to the stretch before your hips are wiggling, silently begging from some movement. Jimin's quickly drawing his hips back. “Your pussy feels so good,” He whines, the feel of him and the sound of his voice pulling a moan from your lips.

Hips meeting each other's in stuttered thrusts until you're falling into a steady pace. Jimin is rolling his hips against yours, smoothly pumping in and out of your aching core, and you meet each one of his thrusts with one of your own. “Look at this greedy little cunt,” He's pulling back until his head catches on your entrance.

“Desperate to cum all day, huh?” Surging forward, forcing your body upward on the bed. He repeats the action twice more, broken cries falling from your lips. “Yes!” Head bobbing up and down in agreement, which has a smirk lifting onto his lips.

He's fucking into you with new found confidence, pleased that his little plan to get you worked up had worked. Eyes widening, a whimpered squeal leaves your lips from the feeling of his cock brushing against your gspot. Back arching as you reach for his arms.

“Right there, baby. A-again.” You gasp. And he's granting you with the same swivel of his hips as before. “That good, baby?” Brain to fogged to form a coherent sentence, you take to nodding your head, a long hum sounding from your closed lips. He's concentrating his thrusts on that spot, loving the way your thighs shake against him.

Your orgasm nearly knocks the wind out of you, walls constricting around his shaft as your back lifts off the bed. Broken sobs of praise and his name fall from your lips, toes curling as your hips buck. Jimin manages to fuck you through it, groaning hotly in your ear from the new tightness that comes with it. It's not long before his thrusts are growing sloppy, hurried as he chases his own release.

“Fuck, Yn!” He grunts, pinning his hips to your as his cum leaves his body. Painting your walls in thick spurts, that has a buzz of pleasure starting in your core. Out of breath and sweaty, he's placing a quick kiss to your lips once he's regained his strength.

The smile that takes over his features has your heart skipping a beat, hand lifting to push your hair from your face. “You're so perfect,” Sighing, he leans up for one last kiss, drawing his hips back to pull out of you.

Both too tired to go properly wash off, you're falling asleep wrapped in each other warms. Enveloped by his warmth and the gentle stroke of his head on his back. He's asleep before you, the steady rise and fall of his chest lifting your head.

Not far behind him, you keep an arm wrapped around his torso. Legs intertwined with his and a smile on your face. Yeah, you definitely had to tease him more often.

- seven days in the forest spent with your seven boyfriends while they film their upcoming reality tv show. there’s no telling what the eight of you will get into when the cameras are off.

⬷ masterlist ⤖

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writingthingsisdifficult · 3 years ago

Text

Good intentions

Bucky Barnes x reader

Had to divide the story into four parts, and I’m working as fast as I can to finish the rest.

Please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think :) Especially if you like it.

Everybody's alive.

When Natasha catches your reaction to seeing a soaking wet Bucky coming in from the rain, your life becomes unbearable. Nat considers herself a decent matchmaker, but what happens when both her subjects are resisting her attempts?

***

Part 1: Matchmaker

Word count: 4412

It had been raining for weeks. Racing streaks down the glass. Soft drumming against the umbrella. Big, fat drops of water splashing against the pavement, sending shivers through my body whenever they hit my skin. Two in rapid succession on my neck – don't know how, though, my coat collar was pulled up as high as it could go, and my umbrella was larger than average. Then one straight into my ear, which made me squeak in disgust. This had to be an omen.

I shook my umbrella before stepping through the door. No need to be a savage, though from the look of it, I was the only one who cared. A quick nod good morning to Nesta in the reception while making a mental note to call down the cleaning crew. The state of the floor was appalling. Mud and dirt and water – apparently not everyone remembered to wipe their feet before entering the building. And umbrellas all along the wall, dripping on the tiles, creating puddles so large a toddler would happily jump in them.

A long sigh escaped. Time for a stern talk with Nesta again. This was supposed to be a good first impression, not an impression of someone's mudroom. My stomach twisted, this was just the latest in a long string of minor complaints. If she didn't improve soon, I would have to make a note in her file and I hated being strict. Still, it was a part of my job, just like running errands before eight in the morning and longing for the coffee I left in my office. I didn't have to like it.

The elevator pinged. “Hey, Y/N.” Natasha walked out with a smile on her face. Her hair was red again, like flames cascading over her shoulders. Damn, that woman really could carry any hair colour. I nodded and smiled back. “Good morning, Agent Romanov. You're in early. What can I do for you? Love your hair, by the way."

"Thanks. I was wondering if you could help me with something."

I shook off my coat and adjusted the bag on my shoulder. "Of course. What do you need? Let me just –""

The door blew open, banging into the doorstopper before closing behind a sopping wet figure and an umbrella that definitely had seen better days. "Good morning, Y/N. Hey, Nat. Have you seen Clint?" Bucky shook himself, sending a glittering spray of water everywhere.

"No, but check the roof."

The air was knocked straight out of me. I couldn't stop the tiny squeak that tumbled over my lips. The way his hair stuck to his face did things to me, not to mention how the water glistened on his metal arm. I hadn't felt heat on my face like that since I was seventeen and spilled juice all over my shirt in front of my neighbour Todd.

Swallowing the rest of the rude noises hovering in my throat, I forced a smile and nodded to the elevator. "Saw him by the coffee machine on the third floor earlier, Sargent Barnes." My voice was breathier that usual, and I cursed the weather for calling me out like that, while simultaneously praying to any deities listening that nobody noticed.

"Thanks." He marched to the elevator with a pace that would divide a crowd of people without a word.

Natasha looked between Bucky and me, a devilish smile spreading on her face. Once he was out of earshot, she bumped me with her elbow. “So, Bucky, huh?”

The heat crept up my ears and settled in my temples. Surely I was no more than two seconds from combusting? “What? I don’t… no, I mean –" I drew a big breath and steeled my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, what was it you needed my help with?”

Her eyes locked on mine. "Never mind that… You're a terrible liar."

A good point. I let out a small wheeze and scrunched my eyes shut. "Fine! Yes, Sargent Barnes is a tall drink of water. Is that what you want me to say? Well, yeah, okay. Maybe I do have a thing for him." The defeat was inevitable. Already my intestines were squirming. Nothing good could come from this.

Natasha looked like it was Christmas and her birthday all at once. "I knew it!"

I shrugged, ignoring the rising chill in my chest. How to best deescalate this before it got out of hand? "Well, you are a superspy after all. But please, PLEASE, don't say anything to him. I like my job. Besides, he's a fucking superhero. I'm just… me."

"Just you?" She shook her head lightly and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I mean, come on! Look at me!" Holding my arms out, I swayed from side to side. I never liked to draw attention to my body, but apparently she needed the extra visual.

Natasha arched her eyebrow. "I am looking."

She was good, but I couldn't to give up that easily. "Yes, and then you clearly see that I'm ordinary. People like him don't fall for people like me. He's too perfect for that."

"Perf… perfect?" She snorted. "Y/N, Bucky's a mess. He's basically a cucumber with anxiety. Damn, you really have it bad if –"

"I know he has issues. You all do. I'm the one booking everybody's therapy sessions, remember? I'm not talking about his trauma. I'm talking about the fact that he's sweet as a marshmallow and his smile could power a small European country if Stark only found a way to harness its brilliance –"

"And the fact that he's got those broad shoulders and could probably lift and throw a bus if he wanted…"

"And that," I nodded, rubbing the back of my neck to stop that annoying heat from spreading even more. That was a delicious picture, alright. "But I'm nothing special."

"Y/N, sweetie, what are you talking about? You know everything, who's supposed to be where, what we're doing, when we come and go – that's practically a superpower right there. Don't downplay yourself."

The laughter came out dry and humourless. She had to be kidding. Being organised and good at puzzles wasn't exactly rocket science. And besides, I didn't even have a good memory. Without my trusty calendar and phone I'd be running around like Hei-Hei.

"Appreciate your confidence in me, but I don't think so, Nat," I countered and repeated: "Please don't tell him."

She sighed. "I won't."

I tilted my head and put on my best mom-voice. "Promise me."

Her shoulders slumped forward, and she lifted her hand in the air. "I promise I will never tell James Buchanan Barnes about your crush." There was a small pause. "Partypooper!"

"Who's a partypooper?"

I yelped and spun around, looking into Tony's smiling face. "Oh my god, Tony, I mean, Mr Stark." Why did he have to be so stealthy? A big, flashy guy like him ought to be required to announce his arrival with trumpets and drums. Through my galloping heartbeats I noted the glasses were new though, and wondered what kind of new tech they really were. They suited him.

He smirked. “Not the first time a lady has said that to me. But you didn’t answer my question.”

Exhaling, I closed my eyes, just barely resisting the urge to pinch my nose – or maybe kick him in the shin as a diversion. This was going to hell with the express train. “No one. No one's a partypooper.”

“Really?” He turned to Natasha. “Nat?”

I shook my head vigorously, bringing forth all malice I had to my eyes, which I have been told is substantial.

"Y/N has a crush and –"

"Ooh, is it me?" He winked and wiggled his eyebrows.

That made me laugh. "What? Oh, god no." Then I immediately felt bad for my reaction.

"Okay, a little bit insulted, but whatever…"

"She won't let me tell Bucky that she's in love with him," Natasha continued as if she had never been interrupted.

Tony gasped, a look of absolute delight in his eyes.

It was as if the ground disappeared beneath me. A rush of adrenaline almost knocked me off my feet. "Natasha! You promised."

She shrugged and pointed at Tony. "I promised not to tell Bucky. Last I checked, that is not him."

This time I did pinch the bridge of my nose and exhaled deeply, then groaned silently. “Nat!” Even I could hear the desperation in my voice. “Sargent Barnes is a friend. Well, uh, a colleague. Of sorts. I do not -“

“So you didn’t just squeak and burst into flames when he came through that door, huh?” She pointed to the glass door with a grin on her face.

Yeah, this was definitely a torture-the-handler day. Though Natasha was right about my crush, of course, and I wasn't even sure it was just a crush anymore; it had lasted for far too long to be called a crush, I had to keep a professional relationship with all of them.

Truth be told I had had a crush on Bucky since the day we were introduced, but I remembered the exact moment I had fallen in love: it was a chilly spring evening about a year ago. The team had decided to go out to eat, Wanda had discovered a new restaurant downtown, and the food supposedly was to die for. I couldn’t remember what I ate, or if I even liked it, but I remembered the knitted cardigan Bucky wore, the one with the colourful pattern on it. It looked really soft, and I found myself longing to touch it. That wasn’t the moment, though. The exact moment that made me go “Oh shit!” was when I cracked some stupid dad joke, and Bucky unleashed his full laughter on me. Who knew that "Singing in the shower is fun until you get soap in your mouth. Then it's a soap opera," would be my doom? But the sound had stunned me, made me lose my voice for several minutes. If someone had opened my skull at that moment, the only thing they would have found was an empty space and a dial tone - my brain frantically trying to reconnect with my body. If I concentrated I could still hear the ringing in my ears.

I avoided him for a week afterwards - well, tried and failed; my work meant contact with the entire Avengers team at all times - but the mental distance hurt too much to keep up with it. Since then, I allowed the realisation to wash over me, causing me both joy and suffering. And I thought I hid it well. Not well enough, apparently, since Natasha sniffed it out. I resisted the urge to close my eyes and sigh again. However, I couldn’t stop my intestines from curling into a tight ball. She had brought Tony into this after all.

Tony’s eyes shone. It had been a long time since any drama unfurled in the compound. He was practically starved, and this… This was delicious.

Looking between them, I knew this wouldn't end well. "You know what? I'm gonna go set up the briefing. Room 705. Thirty minutes. Don't be late." Fishing the phone out of my pocket, I sent a group text to everyone with time and location. In afterthought the wording in the text might have been a tad too harsh, threatening bodily harm if they were late, but the start of the day warranted some sort of reaction leaking from my brain. I locked eyes with Natasha. "Not. A. Word!"

She nodded, but the grin never left her face.

Tony watched me frantically push the elevator button, and I caught him whispering, not knowing I could still hear him. Or maybe he didn't care. "So what's your plan?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you have a plan? You're the resident match-maker here, aren't you?"

Nastasha let out a small laugh. "Do you know why she refuses to do anything about it?"

Tony nodded. “Because she’s professional and a bit afraid for what the people at the top are going to say?”

“No. Well, probably that too, but she thinks Bucky is way out of her league. Something about him being a superhero.” She snorted.

“What?” Tony let out a barking laugh. “Why? Bucky’s like the most timid ex-assassin you can find. I mean, he’s basically a cup of soft serve covered in salt and liquorice."

“I know. We gotta get them together. So, uh, are you in?”

“Uh, yeah! What’s your plan?”

The room finally sealed itself around me and I heard nothing else than the back of my head banging against the mirror wall and F.R.I.D.A.Y. cheerfully announcing what floor I was going to.

Half an hour later I had to step out for a bit to fetch a new cable to the projector, and when I got back, almost everyone were seated. My chest hollowed when I spotted Tony and Natasha sitting together, looking very conspiring indeed.

The urge to either run from the room or break them up rose in my throat, but instead I pulled up a chair next to Sam and focused on my breathing. He was one of the most calming people on the team, and I shamelessly used him as a shield.

Other than the small scare in the beginning, the morning briefing went without hitch. Agent Hill presented the upcoming missions, and I marked my calendar accordingly. Apparently SHIELD had detected a new terrorist group forming in northern Europe, and needed eyes.

Natasha was a given, she could go undetected for longer periods of time, and could take care of herself if necessary. Of course, Clint would come with her. They were an amazing team together, and he would probably go anyway, even if he was assigned to another task. It was better just to let him.

Steve and Sam would step in if it came to that, but would have to keep under the radar until they were needed. Bucky would travel to Europe with the others, but I knew he would set off alone the minute they touched ground in Stockholm. He worked best alone, or so he claimed, and anyway it would be an advantage to spread out. Still, I made a note on my pad to make sure he had everything he needed, and then some. Who knew where his road might lead him.

Bruce and Tony would work together to develop a better algorithm for the surveillance. So far, the terrorist group had evaded SHIELD's best efforts to pin them down. I was actually surprised to learn they didn't even know their name, which made me suspect something big was coming.

The rest of the team was assigned to other, smaller missions, scattered across the States. That way they could easily be reassigned if the situation escalated in Europe.

During the meeting, I kept an extra eye on Natasha and Tony. They sat next to each other, and though I thought I saw them passing notes a couple of times, I didn't want to bring any attention to it. The rest of the group looked oblivious. A sigh of relief escaped me, and Natasha looked up. She nodded imperceptibly towards Bucky, who sat with a bored look on his face and a discarded towel by his feet.

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head, trying my best to stop my ears from buzzing. Suddenly aware of every molecule in the air and trying desperately to ignore the intense weight, I focused all my attention back on Agent Hill’s presentation. Still, Bucky’s presence lingered in the back of my head, and together with the imminent threat from Natasha and Tony, I felt like I was sitting on explosives.

When Maria finally closed her laptop and turned to Director Fury, everybody got up, chatting as if the meeting had been a regular parent-teacher meeting and not a brief on a possible terrorist organisation on the rise.

“Can you believe that people will do things like this?” an agent asked as we all filed out of the room.

“Well, faith is a strong persuader,” I replied with a shrug. “Some are willing to go far for what they believe in.”

“Yeah, but they’re wrong,” the agent continued.

“They’d probably say the same about us,” Sam said, and I nodded.

“There are always two sides to the coin. If not more.”

“But -“

“And then it’s up to us to figure out what to do. We have to look at the big picture. Not everyone is capable of that.” Sam tilted his head with a look of disappointment in his eyes.

The agent huffed and hurried off with a look on his face that either said that he was constipated, or that being schooled by a member of the Avengers was too much for a Wednesday morning.

“Not sure he saw the big picture, Sam.” I shook my head and smiled.

“Don’t think he could. Better hope he doesn’t get promoted soon.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. He’ll be on desk duty for years still. And I guess you have a little desk duty yourself right now?”

“Well, actually… I was hoping you could do me a favour.”

Uh-oh. That sounded ominous. “Of course. What can I do, what do you need?” My voice rose to mimic the retail job I had before I got lucky enough to join SHIELD's training and ultimately land my dream job.

Sam grimaced. "I gotta go to Louisiana. Just a short trip, couple of days maybe."

"Shit, don't think Director Fury would be too happy about that right now, not to mention the rest of upstairs. You're supposed to be on silent duty until you leave for Sweden."

"Yeah, I know that, it's just… Cass and AJ has been asking me to come visit. And Sarah's getting sick of their nagging. Also, I sorta promised on the phone yesterday. Didn't know there would be a world crisis today."

Smiling softly, I hid the urge to smack my face into the wall. This was going to take a lot of explaining and string-pulling. He was supposed to go no-contact for the duration of the mission, but I hated disappointing the boys. And Sarah was a good woman. She didn't deserve being let down, even though it technically wasn't Sam's fault this time.

"Sam, you're such a softie," I said after some consideration. "Go. I'll figure something out. Just be back before the weekend, okay? And –"

"Yeah yeah, and I'll come in at once if the situation escalates before we're scheduled to head out."

I gave him a crooked smile to disguise the trouble he had just handed me. "Sure. But I was gonna say bring back some of that pecan pie. I've been dreaming about that since last summer."

Sam let out a loud laugh and kissed the top of my head, melting my nervous soul to a gooey puddle. "You're the best. Thanks."

"Fly safe."

"I always do."

"Really now?"

"Oh so that's how it is, huh?"

"That's how it is. Say 'hi' to Sarah for me."

With a short wave, he took off down the corridor, leaving me quietly screaming and already doing the mental gymnastics to find a solution.

***

Departure time was in two days. Everyone was on edge, trying their best to prepare for any eventualities, both inconceivable and expected. After a short meeting with the departure crew to share the last pieces of intel, I felt empty and tired. Missions always affected me more than they should. These people were my friends; if anything were to happen to them, my world would collapse.

Apparently I wasn't the only one feeling a bit drained. No one was in a hurry to leave, and the conversation was hushed and weary.

"You know what we need?" Tony said loudly, slicing through the silence and winking to Natasha. He thought I wouldn't notice, but I did, and the suspicion grew in my chest. What now?

"Pizza!" they said in unison. "We should gather everyone, before we all go."

Tony nudged my arm. "My treat. What do you say?"

Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head. "…sure."

"Oh, don't be like that. We all need good pizza. Especially today, what with all this rain. Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y., you know that pizza bakery up the street, the one with the chicken one. Order pizza for everyone. Remember the one with pear, brie, and white sauce. Have it delivered to the lounge."

That did it for me. If he ordered my favourite, I'd be damn sure to eat my part. "When?"

"Uh…" He looked at his watch. "Noon. I'll send out a ping. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks. I do have a ton of things to do to make sure you guys don't die on this trip." I tried to keep it light, but now that the thought had settled in my mind, I had to fight off the tears. It was a miracle I managed to keep the tremble from my voice.

An hour later I tripped over the doorstep to the lounge, surprised to see it was empty except for Tony and Natasha and a huge stack of pizzas. "Where is everybody?" The door clicked behind me, sealing the silence in.

Natasha shrugged. "Late?"

At that moment the door opened again and Bucky sauntered in with a mischievous smile on his face. "Gimme the pizza and nobody gets hurt."

"Jeez, Buck. Remember your manners. There are ladies present." Tony grinned, but opened the top box and helped himself to a slice.

Bucky snickered and rolled his eyes. "Sorry, Y/N," he said with an over-the-top flourish. "I hope you can forgive my insolence." He gestured towards the pizzas. "Ladies first."

My heart did a somersault, but I managed to keep it cool on the outside. "Insolence forgiven," I replied, swallowing a hiccough that lodged itself in my throat, before taking a plate and sifting through the boxes until I found the right one. Loading my plate, I sat down, sinking into the soft cushions. Only thing missing now was some candles and a drink, and I'd be set for the day.

Natasha gave Tony a pointed look. Two minutes later he picked up his phone and half jogged out the door. That was odd. Tony never jogged.

I looked between Natasha and the door, the pizza forgotten halfway between the plate and my mouth. She looked anywhere but at me, but was saved from a confrontation by her phone ringing. "Gotta take this," she muttered. "Can't prepare enough for the trip." She smiled apologetically and left the room. That was a lie, of course. She had full control; all intel was already read and destroyed. And if something new had come up, I would have been notified too.

Suddenly the plate felt heavy in my hand. Maybe it was naïve, but I had expected Natasha and Tony to respect my wishes; after all I had made it absolutely clear that they should leave it, hadn't I? Their amusement and entertainment wasn't worth being an inconvenience to Bucky.

"What's going on?" Bucky asked when the door clicked behind Natasha.

"I… I don't know," I lied haltingly.

Bucky shrugged. "Oh well. Might as well catch up on some paperwork before the flight too. See you later." With one slice between his teeth and another in his hand, he left the room with a friendly wave.

"Sure. See you." I spoke to his back; the glass door had already closed behind him. The lump in my throat grew. Even though Tony had ordered my favourite pizza, I no longer had any appetite. My mouth was dry, and it was a struggle to swallow. In a fit of frustration, I kicked the table, smacking my toe in the process. The pizza slice slid from the plate and landed on my thigh. "Fuck!"

"Ooh, pizza!"

I spun in my seat. Steve had just arrived, and that made me feel a little bit better at least. He was always a laugh.

"Where is everybody?" He looked around and spotted my moping figure, holding an equally sad slice of pizza. "You okay?"

"I guess," I replied, trying to smile and failing miserably. "Everybody else left. The mission, yeah?"

"Right. I thought everything was planned and okayed."

I couldn't bring myself to fill him in on the situation. If he didn't already know, it was nice to have someone neutral by my side. "Yeah, I don't know."

Their scheme was becoming clear; making Bucky spend time with me alone. But it was a failure. Even he thought it was awkward, and he obviously didn't want to be alone with me. Not that I blamed him. If I was him, I'd do the same.

I glanced at my watch. 12.30. Just then Sam, Bruce, Wanda, and Vision spilled into the room, heading towards the pizza like a herd of hungry goats. Slowly my appetite returned too, and half an hour later the blow to my heart was a painful memory pushed to the back of my mind by excellent pizza and wonderful friends.

Later that day I ran into Tony on the way to the garage. He tried to slip past me, but had to stop when I blocked the door, arms crossed over my chest and puffing myself up as much as I could. "Seriously, Tony! What did you expect to happen, huh? That I'd just throw myself in his arms because we were alone? Because newsflash: I've got both self-control and decency. Do you really think I've never been alone with him before?"

At least he had the decency to look thoroughly chastised, and he mumbled something inaudible I thought maybe sounded like an apology.

No way he was getting away with a tiny one. "What was that? I couldn't quite hear you."

"It was Nat's idea," he said, trying a smirk that didn't work at all.

"I very much doubt that," I replied, dragging a hand over my eyes. "Do I have to call Pepper? I didn't think so," I added when he shook his head. "Do better! Now excuse me. I have a lot of work to do to ensure you actually don't die on this mission." With a final, exaggerated frown, I turned and marched out of the room, ignoring the samba in my chest.

Part 2: Eel infested waters

#bucky barnes x reader #marvel fanfic #good intentions #bucky barnes #marvel #mcu

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marauderundercover · 3 years ago

Text

This Side of Normal Ch. 9

AO3

Marinette blinks at the house in front of her in shock. She didn’t know what she had expected when Dick had mentioned a trapeze at his house. She definitely hadn’t expected the house to look like...this.

“Your house is freaking huge.” Marinette says.

“Not my house. It’s the guy who adopted us. Me and Dickie bird.” Jason says, slinging an arm over Adrien’s shoulders to reach over and ruffle her hair.

“Are you sure that it’s okay we’re here?” She asks, frowning.

“Sure! Besides, B’s probably still at work.” Dick says, grinning as the door opens.

“Master Dick, Master Jason. I see you’ve brought guests.” An older man says, quirking an eyebrow. Marinette smiles awkwardly.

“Hi. I’m Marinette, and this is Adrien.” She says, extending her hand. The man nods, shaking her hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss. I am the family’s butler and caretaker, Alfred Pennyworth.” He says. Marinette smiles.

“Nice to meet you as well, Monsieur Pennyworth.” She says.

“I’m gonna go try and show Mari here some trapeze moves.” Dick explains with a wide grin.

“Very well. Should I plan for two more at dinner?” Mr. Pennyworth asks.

“Oh, no, I don’t-” Marinette starts to argue, but Dick cuts her off.

“Yes please!” He says before hurrying down the hallway. “Come on slowpokes!” He adds with a grin. Marinette looks at Jason pleadingly.

“You’re the one who said you were gonna adopt Dick as your brother. This is all on you, Pixie Pop.” He says with a smirk, continuing to walk after Dick. Marinette groans, but follows, glaring at Adrien who snorts at her pain.

“You’re a little bitch.” She mumbles under her breath, glaring at him. He rolls his eyes.

“You know you love me.” He says. Marinette speeds up her walk, careful to keep Dick in sights at all times. This place was huge. She bumps into Adrien, nudging him with her shoulder as they walk down the hall.

“Okay, okay, are you guys ready for this?” Dick asks, stopping in front of closed double doors. Marinette nods and Dick grins before pushing open the doors. Her jaw drops as she looks into the gym. It had everything you could possibly want or need. Including a bunch of gymnastics equipment, aerial silks and a trapeze. It was amazing.

“Wow.” She says, eyes wide as she looks around. This was even cooler than she’d imagined.

“Man, this would’ve been helpful a year ago.” Adrien mumbles, and Marinette snorts, knowing he’s thinking back to their rooftop training sessions with Jason. And all the times they got scraped up from the rough roofs. She glances over at Jason, noticing the thoughtful look on his face. Probably thinking the same thing, she thinks before turning back to Dick.

“So, how do we start?” She asks, bouncing back and forth between the balls of her feet. This was going to be so freaking cool!

---

This is so worth a trip to Gotham! Marientte thinks to herself as she flies through the air. Dick was surprised at how quickly she caught on for her first time (she pointedly ignored the snorts from Adrien and Jason who both knew this was not her first time flying through the air). Once they get back to the platform, Dick’s phone starts to ring and he smiles apologetically.

“I’ve really gotta take this.” He says, darting down the ladder and rushing out of the gym to answer his phone. Marinette shrugs and follows him down the latter, punching Jason’s arm as she walks by him to grab a drink of water.

“Ow, what the hell was that for?” He asks, rubbing his arm and glaring at the girl.

“I saw you two idiots laughing at me.” She replies, shrugging.

“Why do you still punch so hard?” Jason asks, and she can tell he’s starting to be concerned for her. She recognizes the look on his face.

“Pent up aggression from fighting an emotional terrorist for a good chunk of my adolescence.” She deapans. He raises an eyebrow and she huffs. “Okay, I took up boxing.”

“So have you both kept up with training?” He asks, visibly concerned. Marinette shares a look with Adrien, trying to decide if she should be honest or not. But...it’s Jason. So she has to be.

“Yeah….” She draws out the word before sighing, pushing her bangs back from her face. “In our defense, it’s hard to go back to being a civilian after being a hero for several years. It’s just- especially with Guardian shit, right? Like, that’s a lifetime commitment. If I give it up, I give up my memories. I can’t do that, Jay. I’d forget you and Adrien and I can’t do that. So I don’t-” She pauses and lets herself take a breath. “I don’t have a choice.” Jason’s face drops into a scowl, but she knows it’s not directed at her. As much as she admired Master Fu, he was not the best mentor. And he left her without a choice when it came to hero work. Something she knew that Jason couldn’t forgive him for. Even if she tried to.

“Come on, we’re gonna spar.” Jason instructs, not giving her a chance to object. She sighs, but follows him over to the mats, immediately getting into position.

“I fight better than I did a year ago.” She warns, and Jason grins.

“That’s what I’m counting on Pixie Pop.” He says, immediately lunging towards her. Marinette jumps back, staying light on her feet as she gets used to sparring with Jason again. He wasn’t slow by any means, but he was much bigger than her, which meant he couldn’t jump around as lightly as she did. She’d have to use his weight against him. She leaps to the side and then brings a swift kick up, using her foot to kick his thigh, hard. He stumbles slightly, grinning widely before throwing a swing. Deciding to use his momentum, she grabs onto his arm and lets the swing of his arm lift her up so that she can wrap her arms around his neck in a chokehold as she clings to his back.

“Oh come on Jay, don’t tell me you’ve already lost!” Adrien teases from the side. Marinette feels Jason tense and can tell he’s about to throw himself down, which would definitely end the fight for her. Instead of letting him get that far, she moves her hands to grip onto his shoulders and vault herself over him, rolling out of the leap and jumping back up, grinning from ear to ear.

“You’ve learned some new tricks.” Jason praises, squaring his stance once again.

“Enough to beat you, old man.” She teases, snorting at the faux hurt on Jason’s face.

“You wound me, Pix.” He says, clutching his heart and shutting his eyes as if in pain. Marinette decides to use his momentary theatrics to her advantage and delivers a swift kick to the back of his left leg, throwing all of her weight into the kick. Jason yelps in surprise, and falls to the ground.

“Jump rope!” She calls out to Adrien, knowing she saw one earlier. And also knowing that there was no way she could keep Jason pinned without assistance. She holds her hand up, catching the rope that Adrien tosses to her, using it to quickly tie his ankles and wrists together. She steps back and admires her handy work, snorting at the shocked look on Jason’s face. Slow claps coming from the doorway make her snap to attention, turning and glancing at the intruder. Her eyes widen at the boy, who appeared to be around their age. With dark spiky hair and brilliant green eyes- No. Bad Mari, stop falling for green eyes. Ugh. She blinks, shoving the thoughts from her mind.

“Er- hi.” She says awkwardly, glancing over at Adrien who simply shrugs.

“Who is it?” Jason asks, since he’s currently not facing the door. Marinette glances down at him and smirks.

“Oh, you mean you can’t see, Jay? Why ever would that be?” She teases. He huffs.

“I don’t know, some crazy Pixie chick tied me up with a freaking jump rope like an angry kindergartner.” He gripes back. She crosses her arms.

“You do realize that ‘angry kindergartner’ is the only one who can untie you, right?” She asks, choosing to ignore the stranger in the doorway for now.

“Not true. Someone else came in, and Adrien can also untie a couple knots.” Jason argues. Marinette glances at Adrien who shakes his head, despite the fact that Jason can’t see.

“Yeah, sorry Jay. I’m not going against Mari. She’s kinda scary.” Adrien says, making Jason whine.

“Who the fuck is at the door then?” He asks, obviously starting to lose his patience.

“Tt. As if I would help you, Todd.” The boy says and Marinette feels herself melt slightly at his voice. It was so- NO. BAD MARI. STOP. NO.

“His name’s Jason.” Adrien pipes up, and Marinette turns to him, frowning. Because, yes, his name is Jason. So then what-

“His last name is Todd.” The boy says, and Adrien’s face turns red. He rubs the back of his neck- his go to ‘I’m feeling awkward right now’ pose.

“Oops.” He says with a lopsided smile. Marinette rolls her eyes playfully at him before turning back and looking right in the boy’s eyes.

“Hi, I’m Marinette Dupain Cheng. That dork over there is Adrien.” She introduces with a short wave.

“Pleasure. I’m Damian Wayne.” The boy, Damian, introduces. Marinette smiles at him, feeling herself start to get lost in his eyes again. It wouldn’t hurt to look for just a minute, besides, he wasn’t looking away either. And his eyes were such a pretty color-

“Could someone please fucking untie me.” Jason groans. Marinette blushes furiously, dropping down and swiftly untying Jason.

“Sorry Jay.” She apologizes, wincing at the annoyed look on his face as he stands up. He simply grunts and ruffles her hair, making her protest.

“S’okay Pix. Besides, now you can take me down without using Adrien as a distraction. Big improvement.” He compliments and her annoyed face quickly morphs into a wide smile.

“Alfred sent me to let you know dinner is ready.” Damian says, an annoyed expression on his face. Marinette immediately blushes again and glances at Jason who simply raises an eyebrow. She groans and falls back in line with Adrien who had a knowing smirk on his face.

“Shut up.” She mutters, elbowing the boy. He snorts, shaking his head at her. Jason starts to walk out, trading insults with Damian as the group makes their way to the dining room.

“Whatever you say, Bug.” He says, throwing an arm over her shoulder. She narrows her eyes at him.

“Say anything, and I’ll beat you with your own arm.” She whispers. He holds up his hands in surrender and she sighs in relief. Hopefully they’d make it through this dinner without Adrien embarrassing the hell out of her. Following Jason and Damian into what had to be the dining room, she’s surprised to see a guy a couple years older than them, and a much taller man who had to be Jason’s dad.

“Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met.” He says, extending a hand. “I’m Bruce Wayne.” He says with a wide (but false, Marinette notes, watching how it doesn’t reach his eyes) smile. Marinette’s eyes widen and she glances at Jason who just rolls his eyes.

“Mari, Adrien, this is my….father.” He says the word as if it’s bitter. Marinette makes a note to ask about that later. They’d already sent one asshole father to prison, she had no problems sending another.

“Nice to meet you.” Marinette says, shaking his hand, her smile not reaching her eyes either. She wouldn’t give him a real smile, not until she’d talked to Jason about it. He had helped them so much, it only made sense to help him too. Dinner should be interesting.

Tag list (open) @toodaloo-kangaroo @laurcad123 @kittenmywaythrulife @lost-in-the-world-of-maribat @queenz-z @daminette-56

#maribat #maribat jason todd #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #platonic maribat adrienette #platonic jasonette #platonic dickinette #daminette #maribat fanfic #maribat fanfiction #This Side of Normal #ao3fic

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