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juyeonszn · 11 months

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I WANNA SHOW YOU OFF

PAIRING ju haknyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 1.65k

GENRES smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, idol!juhak and non-idol!reader, stupid man not getting the hint, jealous juhak 🤭, DOM JUHAK !!!! this deserves its own warning phew, marking, no foreplay bc we ball like steph curry, little bit of exhibitionism but also not really, unprotected sex, sex against a wall?? standing upright?? what is that position called, creampie lol

SUMMARY you hated when men flirted with you, but god if it didn’t result in such a thrilling experience.

MORE im actually yelling like no way i’ve done 9 of these…. each time a fawntober fic goes up i rattle my brain around in my head to make sure it’s not empty 😭 ANYWAYS!!! if u enjoyed, please reblog <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

You couldn’t wait to get out of here.

Your feet were starting to ache from the uncomfortable heels you were wearing. Your faux smile could only handle staying on your face for so long. Your head was throbbing from all of the superficial conversations. You were just about ready to crash.

That was the thing about being the girlfriend of a successful idol, you had to accompany him to these company parties despite everyone being so fake. The only genuine people were the idols themselves. All of the higher ups and staff members were just too vain and shallow minded, you could hardly talk to them without feeling like you’d lost multiple brain cells.

To be fair, you weren’t required to attend these. Haknyeon technically wasn’t even supposed to have a girlfriend, for the sake of maintaining his image for the fans. But everyone at his company knew of your existence and he liked having the excuse to parade you around like a little trophy.

His group members often teased him for being the first to get into a relationship. The two of you had been friends way before he even began idol training and preparing to debut. During that time, you’d lost touch, thanks to his rigorous training process and dedication to his craft. But a couple years into the limelight and you found your way back to each other. Fate was a funny concept.

You were currently standing at a high-top table, mindlessly chatting with some guy from the PR department. Haknyeon had disappeared to grab you some drinks to kill time before you could finally leave. Sunwoo stayed back to keep you occupied while he was gone, but at some point, you heard Eric calling for him and he, too, had wandered off. You kind of wished you went with him, now stuck with this random man you didn’t know.

“You’re really pretty, Y/N,” the guy says, smiling at you. “Haknyeon is very lucky.”

You laugh awkwardly, thanking him for the compliment. He kept inching closer to you, making it palpable that he was flirting in spite of his awareness towards your relationship. The dude clearly couldn’t take a hint, oblivious to your uncomfortability. You didn’t want to be rude, though. These were the people who worked with your boyfriend on a near daily basis.

Where the hell was Haknyeon?

“Does he treat you well?” He asks, clearly steering the conversation in a specific direction. You know what he’s aiming at, but you pretend to be ignorant to his attempts.

“He’s an exceptional boyfriend, actually. He treats me like a princess.” You state, eyes darting around the large event hall in search of said boyfriend. If he didn’t come to your rescue soon, you feared you’d say something worthy of putting his career on the line.

“If that’s truly the case, why is he nowhere to be found? How could such a good partner leave his girlfriend all alone like this?” The gaslighting is hilarious. The fact that this guy genuinely felt he was so much better than Haknyeon, that he was much more attractive, was laughable. He sincerely thought he was powerful enough to come between your secure, loving relationship.

“Here you go, baby,” a drink is placed in front of you, a kiss left on your temple. “What are you and Seojun talking about?”

Haknyeon’s arm wraps snugly around your waist. To anyone else, he’d look normal. He was remaining neutral, lips pulled into a thin line but curved at the ends so it appeared that he was being nice. But you knew otherwise. You knew this calm was just a facade to hide how pissed off he really was. His jealousy wasn’t because he didn’t trust you. His jealousy was because he didn’t trust others.

Namely Jung Seojun, the PR department’s resident fuckboy.

You glance up at your boyfriend, surprised there wasn’t any drool rolling down your chin. You couldn’t help but be drawn into the darkness of his eyes and his clenched jaw. The best part of this was what lies ahead of you once you get home. Maybe this night wasn’t a total bust.

“Oh. Um. Just, you know, the usual pleasantries…” This dude was a shitty liar. He was fortunate that he hadn’t actually made a move on you, lest he wanted to keep his job. Ju Haknyeon didn’t play around when it came to you, the love of his life.

Thankfully, you don’t stay at the party much longer. He tried to keep his cool until it was deemed acceptable to make his exit, but at a certain point, he just couldn’t anymore. The drive home wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was a thick tension filling the atmosphere. If it weren’t for the driver in the same car, you’re sure his hands would’ve been all over you.

So, the moment you step through the threshold of the dorms, door barely locked, Haknyeon’s pinning you to the surface. His lips are searing on your own, rough but soft all at once. His fingers don’t know where they want to rest, first tangled in your hair and then digging into your hips only a second later. Your head is dizzy, spinning around a mantra of his name and nothing else.

He bunches up the fabric of your dress, pulling back slightly to catch his breath. “Who the hell did he think he was? Talking to my pretty girl like he was deserving of her presence?”

“Hak…” You sigh, his mouth trailing down the side of your neck. He nips and sucks at the base, and then again where it meets your jaw. You hated when men flirted with you, but God if it didn’t result in such a thrilling experience. Your regularly sweet, gentle boyfriend becoming someone nearly unrecognizable drove you crazy.

“Hmm?” His hands hook under your thighs, picking you up so you can wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. You can feel him this way, already so hard and ready for you. You don’t think you can handle waiting for all the foreplay, your entire body tingling with want and desire.

“Need you to fuck me,” you whine, head lolling to the side when he sucks at that particularly sensitive area on your throat. “Want you so bad…”

“Yeah, princess? Gonna fuck you so good that you’ll be ruined for anyone else. No one can give it to you like I do.” He chuckles into your skin, pushing your dress up further and kissing your shoulders after the straps have slid off. Ju Haknyeon might actually be the death of you.

That was your favorite thing about sex with him. He was so uncharacteristically cocky, so uncharacteristically aggressive in the way he manhandled you. You moan when he shoves aside your underwear, undoing his slacks enough to slip his cock free. He presses into you slowly, forehead falling to your shoulder with a groan.

One of his hands comes up to fist at your hair, yanking back so he can bite at your jugular and exposed chest some more. He thrusts up into your cunt with what feels like ease in spite of your walls squeezing him. His hips snap up and meet your ass with every kiss of his cock to that spongy spot deep inside of your pussy. Everything is moving too fast, but not fast enough at the same time.

“W-What if someone comes home?” You gasp, fingers getting lost in the hair at the nape of his neck. As much as you were enjoying this, you don’t know what you’d do if one of his members walked in on you. For sure, you’d be mortified, unable to show your face around the dorm ever again.

“Who cares? Let them see how well you’re taking it,” he mutters, sucking in your supple skin and ensuring bruises are left in his wake. “I should let everyone witness how good I fuck you, right baby? Marking you all up so the world knows your mine.”

A loud moan rips from your vocal cords, his cock so deep inside of you that you’re starting to see stars. Haknyeon grins against your sternum knowing that you’re enjoying this as much as he is. You wanted him to stake his claim on your body, wanted anyone who could see to know that you were his. Even the way he fucked into you had that same purpose, like his dick was meant to be there. It was almost as if your cunt was acclimating to the shape of it.

“Fuck, feels so so good, Hak…” You whine, lower half squirming when that knot in your stomach is about to unravel. Your toes curl and your back arches off of the door, legs spreading wider in an attempt to suck him in further. “I’m gonna— oh god— I’m—”

You don’t even finish your sentence, your orgasm washing over you without a moment’s notice. The feeling of your cunt fluttering around his cock has Haknyeon groaning, twitching and spilling into you seconds later. He fucks his own release back inside of you, teeth sinking into your collarbone to steel himself.

The two of you stay like that for a minute, catching your breaths in spite of his cum beginning to leak out of you. He kisses the crown of your sweaty forehead. “You did so well, princess.”

Just like earlier, you’re interrupted before you can reply, the sound of keys jingling on the other side of the door. You share a look of terror, scrambling to his room so you don’t get caught. You both flop onto his bed in a fit of giggles, recalling how he’d said he didn’t care who saw you in such a compromising state.

“You’re all talk, aren’t you?” You tease.

“Oh, just you wait, baby,” he shakes his head, moving to hover over you. “I’ll make you regret that you said that.”

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz haknyeon #tbz haknyeon #ju haknyeon x reader #ju haknyeon smut #haknyeon x reader #haknyeon smut #juyeonszn #fawntober.2023🎃

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hikari-hellspawn · 1 month

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ART COMMISSIONS OPEN! FINANCIAL HELP DESPERATELY NEEDED!

The title is what it says on the tin; I'm opening up art commissions, because after my next paycheck I don't know how much I'll be getting after that, or how much, and I'm desperate for work and some kind off income because I am literally in danger of losing a place to live. I need need NEED income if I want to continue to, well, live.

My Ko-Fi

My deviantART

NOTICE: I RESERVE THE RIGHT TO REJECT ANY COMMISSIONS THAT I DEEM INAPPROPRIATE. THIS INCLUDES ART CONTAINING HATE SPEECH/HOMOPHOBIA/TRANSPHOBIA/APHOBIA/RACISM/BIGOTRY/ANTISEMITISM/ETC.

How do I pay you? I take payments via my Ko-fi or PayPal ([email protected]), half before I start the sketch and the other half on delivery. That is set in stone; I will not accept any kind of cryptocurrency or things like Amazon or Walmart gift cards as payment. None of those can be used to pay rent, and paying rent is exactly what I need.

Do you do NSFW? Not at present; I'm not comfortable drawing NSFW content, though doing shirtless and swimsuits are fine. However I won't draw sex, and I won't draw straight-up full-frontal nudity.

Do you do furries/anthros? I'm not gonna lie, I don't have much experience drawing anthros--THAT BEING SAID, if you want to commission me to draw an anthro character or your fursona, it's definitely on the table and I'll do my danged best--even if it takes a bit longer than non-furry/anthro characters.

Do you draw mecha? I...have zero experience drawing mecha. Do I like mecha anime? Yes (Evangelion my beloved). So this is a soft no on my part, purely because of my own lack of skill with the subject matter.

Do you draw horror and/or gore? Hard no. Not simply because I can't draw said gore (which I can't, same reasons as the mecha explanation above), but because it's another one of those things that I'm not 100% comfortable drawing at the moment.

^HOWEVER, this question comes with a caveat: I will draw eldritch horror. Y'know, eyes where they don't belong, tentacles, pulsating masses, bodies that're just...weird? Those are fun. So, negotiable, but keep in mind that if you want slasher-type stuff that ain't my jam.

Will you send me progress pics? YES. At every stage of the process, I'll both scan the image and take photos to make sure that what I'm working on is the direction you want to go.

What about reference images? If you have references you want to provide, whether they're drawn by you, someone else, google image search, etc, then I'd appreciate it so I have an idea of what your character looks like. Written descriptions are also fine if you don't have any visuals--basically, if you know what your character looks like and you have some way to communicate that to me in a way that puts us both on the same page, we're good.

Can I use your art as an NFT? NO. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES WILL I ACCEPT A COMMISSION TO CREATE NFTS, IF THAT IS THE REASON YOU WANT TO COMMISSION ME THEN GO FIND SOMEONE ELSE.

Can I use your art to train an AI algorithm? NO. AI art is the reason why artists like myself are being pushed out of work; if you're only commissioning me to get hold of some works so that you can train an algorithm to make more based on my style, then you don't actually want to buy art; you're just looking for some excuse to screw yet another artist over.

If I don't have the money right now, can I just pay you the full amount later? While I understand the desire to buy art but not having the funds, the whole reason I'm opening commissions is because I don't have enough money to survive. Paying me half now and half upon completion is non-negotiable, because I can assure you my need to be able to make rent and feed the Fuzzballs (aka the cats, please ask me about them I will go total Maes Hughes on them because they are PERFECT) is as strong as yours to make sure your expenses are covered as well.

Are the prices negotiable? To an extent, though the prices you see in the image above are the minimum; I won't go lower than these.

I want something that isn't listed on here/I have an unusual request, can you do it? That is something we'd have to negotiate, but it's not off the table. I do some weirdo drawings for myself in my free time (I've graced several servers I'm in on discord with the little wonders known as Eyeshrooms, no I will not elaborate here), so I can do other weird stuff too (as long as it's SFW).

Do you have more art examples I can look at? Yes! I have a deviantART page, though due to the company's own exploitative and artist-harming features they've rolled out, I've been working on glazing everything in my gallery there (if you haven't heard of Glaze and Nightshade, they're both really cool and you ought to check them out, seriously I really really really want to start using them both on my art SO BAD but I CAN'T) and migrating to Inkblot and Cara.app. Once I have links to both of those, I'll add them to the post!

You said traditional art...can you do digital? No, unfortunately; I don't have a device powerful enough to run a good art program (not for a lack of trying; attempts at experimenting with Krita have only resulted in it crashing the laptop I've been using, which is bad because it isn't even mine), nor do I have the funds to be able to get one--and I don't know when, or if, that'll happen. This circles back to the initial problem; I don't have the funds to pay for what I need to survive, which means I literally cannot afford to save for a new, more powerful laptop for myself. As it is, I've been borrowing my roommate's laptop for everything I need to do that requires the use of a computer, as mine died back in 2020 and I haven't been able to scrape together enough to even get a bare-bones basic one myself.

If there are any other questions you need me to answer, then please please PLEASE send them to me in a DM here and I'll do my best to answer them! And please, I'm begging you, I'm begging you so much, even if you don't buy something please spread this around I need the income desperately. I'm not lying when I say that my ability to continue living is in danger, I literally do not know if I'll even be able to pay my rent next month. I need every penny I can get, just to be able to have a chance of surviving, and what determines if I can keep a roof over mine and the cats' heads and if we're out on the street with nowhere to go is very much determined by if I can get commission work. So even if you can't buy anything, or only get a headshot or two, please spread the word. Reblog this. Share it in tweets. Post the link to this post on Facebook, link it on Discord, if you have friends who are looking to commission art tell them because I'm desperate and terrified that I might not have a place to live come October. I'm begging, please, I need the help. I need the help more than I can put into words. I don't want to die.

(Also big shoutout to @nomnomroko for putting together the commission sheet, thank you so much!)

#art commissions #art commissions open #art commission info #art commissions prices #FINANCIAL EMERGENCY #i'm not exaggerating #I NEED INCOME #I can't afford my bills #I can't afford rent #I can't afford food #reblog this #please reblog #I'm desperate #desperation art commissions #traditional art #ko fi link

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merbear25 · 4 months

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hellloooo could i be so bold as to request cc and fem reader, perhaps with a bit of accidental voyerism/exhibitionism ? maybe during the time ceasar would've been on the sunny idk :bluesmileemoji:

Ohohoho you most certainly can be so bold, my dear anon. I’m always happy to write for my favorite gassy goat. 🤭 This took me awhile to finish writing because I kept getting lost in my own imagination 😵 but that's not necessarily a bad thing, right? I hope you like what I've written for you 💜💜

CW: NSFW, MDNI, no plot just smut, fem!reader, voyeurism/exhibitionism, mutual pinning, oral sex (both receiving), fingering, vaginal penetration, cream pie

Such big words for someone so small

How could you just saunter away like that? This whole back and forth you two had created was making his head spin. Such a sharp tongue delivered with poise was a deadly combination—one that had you lingering in his mind for longer than he’d like to admit.

Though the Straw Hats questioned why you entertained him or gave him any form of attention, you shrugged off their passive judgments. You couldn’t help yourself; this banter you had was too fun to let go of. Seeing his flustered face, feeling like you caught him off guard: it kept bringing you back for more.

Excusing yourself to your bedroom, you allowed your triumphant gaze to scan over Caesar once more, savoring that soft pink dusted across his cheeks.

Mulling over your self-proclaimed finishing blow, he grinded his teeth. Refusing to let you have the last laugh, he snuck away to finish it properly.

Huffing at your inability to even close your own door, his eyes caught a glimpse of your exposed back through the crack. Jumping back, he pressed himself against the wall. Processing what he just saw, the image of you in your bra was now burned into his mind. Wanting to be sure he wasn’t just seeing things, he cautiously peeked through the crack again. You’d removed your skirt as well, unknowingly flaunting your body right in front of him.

Such delicate lace hugging your curves, the color suiting your skin tone so nicely, both were making you appear more angelic than you really were. Rearranging his pants to accommodate the tightening fabric, he’d momentarily forgotten about the annoying clank of the chains.

Swiftly moving back, he cursed himself for having such little restraint that he couldn’t walk away from the temptation teasing him on the other side of the door. Faint hums drifted to him, your sweet melodies acting as a siren’s call, luring him in to indulge in your own fantasies.

When he hesitantly peered through the gap once more, you were ready for him. Unhooking your bra in a deliberately seductive manner, letting it fall to the floor as you swayed your hips to help ease yourself out of your delicates. You bent down to take them off, showcasing your most sensitive areas to your uninvited guest.

His breath hitched at the sight of your bold striptease. Entering your quarters, he was still a bit dumbfounded by the little show you were putting on. The coy smile that danced upon your soft face didn’t leave when you laid down on your bed. You were undoubtedly testing every fiber of self-restraint he was desperately holding onto.

Arching your back slightly, you spread your legs, allowing the slick sin between them to glisten.

When he didn’t come rushing over to you, you gave a soft whimper. “You have so much will power,” you whispered. Your fingers trailed down your stomach and began sliding over your clit. A soft moan passed your lips. “I could never be that strong.”

Promptly locking the door, a devilish grin spread across his face. “Tell me, my dear. How can such a pretty mouth be laced with such lewd words?”

Taking in the way your body twitched under your own touch, he let out a low groan while he released his burning desire for you. “Show me what else that mouth is good for.”

Tugging on your legs to pull you to the edge of the bed, he smirked down at you. The way the lust in your eyes glazed over when you were confronted with his intimidating length was a sight to revel in. Knowing you’d never be able to take him in that dainty mouth of yours, the effort you put in was still just as exhilarating.

Caressing the shaft as your tongue lined the back of it, coating it all the way up to the tip where you licked the precum off like a lollipop sent shivers all throughout his body. Shuddering from your clear skill, you moved lower, sucking carefully on his balls as your hands twisted and tugged on his throbbing cock.

Thrusting into your grip, he panted through each wave of pleasure you were gracing him with. Tangling his fingers in your hair, his hands began shaking from the oncoming orgasm, letting the little clinks and clanks of the handcuffs play as blissful music.

“W-wait, wait,” he croaked, his voice gravelly from the pent-up emotion. “Let me taste you.”

Without hesitation, you positioned yourself further back and spread your legs for him. Your willingness to give into your desire fanned the flames in him, causing them to rampage and become unruly. The hunger in his eyes made you quake with anticipation as he removed his gloves, wanting to feel every part of your soft skin.

Plunging a finger past your drenched folds, he relished in your sudden cry of euphoria. Removing it after a few good pumps, he caressed your trembling form as he tormented your neglected clit. Watching you squirm under him, he pushed two fingers into you, then three, working you for everything you had to offer.

The show you were putting on was impossible to hold himself back from. Lathering your needy cunt with his eager tongue, he suckled and moaned into you as your hips bucked against his face. He was painfully reminded of his confinement, whimpering slightly from the restraints and so desperately wanting his hands to be able to roam over your gorgeous body freely.

As your moans grew more shrill, he rutted against the sheets. Knowing they clung to your sweet sleeping form each night, draping over your soft curves made him roll his eyes back while each of his senses were being bombarded by the euphoric aroma filling the room.

“I need you inside me,” you cried out.

Hastily repositioning himself, he propped himself up against your bed frame, allowing you to climb on top of him. That slack jawed expression on your face as you pressed your hips down on his, fully appreciating how quickly he filled you was one of the greatest sights to behold.

Your motions started out slow and unsure while you were still adjusting to his length. Seeing you struggle with fully taking him inflated that sadistic ego of his. A sly grin painted his lips while his eyes wandered over the now smeared purple kiss marks across your lower half, enticing him to play with your clit.

Such fervor was met with your own, encouraging you to pick up the pace. Tossing your head back, you steadied yourself when you leaned back. Your breasts chaotically bounced in an alluring motion the further you tried to push him deeper inside. With the beauty of your passion unraveling before him, he could feel his own release quickly following suit.

Gripping your hips so tightly they were sure to bruise, he grunted and forced you down on him as he pumped all of the angst and lust he had for you deep within your womb. Collapsing back between his legs, he admired his hot cum dripping out of your still spasming walls.

Realizing that neither of you considered the volume exuding from the room, you brushed it off. You didn’t really care if they judged you for your taste in men. It was more interesting like this anyway—having such a taboo partner made everything that much more exciting.

#x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece x you #op #caesar clown #one piece smut #one piece caesar clown #caesar clown x reader #caesar clown one piece #op caesar clown #caesar x reader

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deepspacedukat · 2 years

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Begin Again - Part 6

I’ve been enjoying writing this waaayyyy too much. Koss is just such a perfect target for teasing and...yep. Anyway, enjoy!

Part 1 here. Part 2 here. Part 3 here. Part 4 here. Part 5 here.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Koss (ST:ENT) x Reader

[A/N: This is smut adjacent with mentions of innuendo, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Mutual pining, mild innuendo, discussion of a wet dream, ozh’esta (Vulcan finger kiss), public flirting Vulcan style, Soval gives The Pon Farr Talk, one of the two idiots begins to put two and two together.

~*~

I really should have taken Koss’s robe back to him the next day. That would have been the logical, polite thing to do, but I didn’t. The night he’d lent it to me, I fell asleep wearing it. I didn’t mean to, really I didn’t. I laid down - just for a few minutes to attempt to process what had happened between us - and the comforting, familiar scent of my neighbor on his robe lulled me to sleep before I could even consider taking it off.

Embarrassingly, even my dreams weren’t free of his influence. My subconscious mind had latched onto the sensation of Koss sweeping me up in his arms as if I weighed nothing at all. The soothing sturdiness of his warm, strong chest against my bare skin and the heady realization that we were entirely nude while in such close proximity had made my head spin in the moment. In my dreams, that became the main focus.

Images of impassioned kisses and breathy moans against burning skin flashed through my mind, making for a rather rude awakening by my morning alarm. Waking up hot and bothered was one thing, but to do it while wrapped in Koss’s robe? That felt entirely scandalous.

My morning routine was a blur that day, and when I got to the Embassy to start my shift, I realized I’d tossed Koss’s robe on over my uniform tunic instead of my own. Leaving it draped over my chair in my office, I tried to get through the day without anyone being the wiser about my little mix-up. Soval even caught sight of it once, but if he recognized the robe as Koss’s, he didn’t give any indication of it.

One Embassy employee must not have liked my perfume, though. He gave a little sniff when we were in the lift together, and he promptly turned a rather dark shade of green as he averted his gaze. Huh. Oh well. That wasn’t the weirdest thing to happen to me. Making a mental note to wear a different perfume on my next shift, I brushed that off and got on with my day.

A few evenings later, I prepared to give the borrowed robe back to my neighbor. There had been several opportunities to return it to him, but...well, I just couldn’t seem to bring myself to do it. I was almost embarrassed that I’d waited so long. After all, it wasn’t as if Koss was my partner. How could I excuse my behavior? Surely it would seem illogical to a Vulcan if I said ‘I kept your robe a little longer than I should have because your scent relaxes me.’ That would only make Koss think I was some kind of creep.

The evening that I was determined to return it to him, I washed it by hand and took the time to examine the fabric more closely. The deep, brown cloth was soft and well-worn. Koss had clearly spent many hours nestled in its warm embrace. There were many places along the robe’s length where Koss had mended tears and holes, but the bottom hem near one of the corners was beginning to come undone. A small smile made itself at home on my lips at his attention to detail where he’d sewn the robe back together. He’d matched the stitching exactly.

Attention to detail seemed to be a common theme with him. Even when it came to our socializing, Koss always made sure that I was comfortable and that my needs were met. I really needed to find some way to thank him.

As I folded the worn material, I had an idea. Hurrying downstairs and over to Koss’s door, I took a deep breath and rang his door chime. Koss looked thoroughly surprised to see me smiling up at him when his door slid open.

“Hi! Sorry, am I bothering you?”

“I always welcome your presence, but you do not typically visit me in the afternoons. Is everything alright, ashaya?” He asked as he stepped aside to allow me into his home.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I promise. I just wanted to, um...” I stammered, but I trailed off as I caught sight of his living space. Memories from the last time I was here swept up to greet me, and I blinked in surprise as I realized that being here again felt like coming home. Noticing how long I’d been silent, I cleared my throat and turned to face Koss. “I remembered that I still had your robe, so I’m here to return it.”

“Thank you, but there was no rush, I assure you,” he said walking over to me and accepting the folded robe. “Was that...all you came here to do?”

“No, actually. I was wondering if you were familiar with any farmer’s markets around here?” At his look of confusion, I tried to clarify. “A place that sells fresh local produce.”

“Ah. Yes, I am. There is one not far from here. Why? Are you not receiving adequate food supplies?” He seemed utterly alarmed and protective at the prospect, but I placed a calming hand on his arm.

“I’m well-fed, I promise. When it comes to Vulcan produce, though, the variety offered by the Embassy provisional department is a little limited. I wanted to try my hand at a sort of fusion cuisine, but I can’t seem to find the right kind of fruit. I was hoping a local market might offer something I haven’t had the chance to experience yet,” I explained, and Koss relaxed substantially. Even if he could never feel the same way that I did, it was sweet how much he cared for his friends. “You said there was one nearby?”

“Yes, it is a short walk from here. I can escort you there tomorrow morning, if that is convenient.”

“That’s very sweet of you, but I’m sure I can find my way without you having to play tour guide. Surely you have better things to do?”

“It is no bother,” Koss said setting his robe aside and taking a step closer to me. “Besides, I would happily be your ‘tour guide’ if you’d allow me.”

Did he look hopeful or was I projecting my own emotions onto him?

“Alright, then. I accept your offer.” Koss nodded his head in approval just as a small thump came from the door at the back of his home. We both turned to see I’Tol sitting with his big, fluffy paw against the glass.

“Your introduction to him was not...entirely pleasant. Would you be comfortable if I allowed him inside? Or would you prefer that I wait until you depart?”

I looked over at him and smiled.

“Oh, he’s just a big teddy bear. Go on.” At my permission, Koss walked over to the door and slid it open, letting the big fluff inside. Much more sedately than our previous encounter, the sehlat walked over and flopped on his back in front of me again. As I knelt and rubbed his belly, Koss strode over to us and sat beside me.

“How odd. I’Tol never behaves this way with others, yet he has done so twice with you,” he murmured, and I looked over to find my neighbor already observing me closely. Blushing under his intense gaze, I looked back at his saber-toothed bear.

“Maybe he can tell that I’m good with animals,” I suggested, but Koss just slid a little closer to me. “On Earth, there are people who believe that pets, especially dogs, can instinctively tell good people from bad.”

“If that is true of sehlats, then you are undoubtedly an exceptional person,” Koss murmured. When I looked over at him, he was wearing an expression that was so open and full of kindness that my breath hitched in my throat. He really meant it.

With a rustle of fur, I’Tol stood and padded off to a large cushion at the side of the living space that appeared to be his bed, and Koss and I got to our feet.

“Thank you for letting me see him again. I’ll um...I’ll leave you in peace. See you tomorrow?”

Koss agreed and walked me to the door. As I made my way home, I wondered what that look of his had meant.

The next morning, I donned a set of lightweight robes for the trek to the marketplace. It turned out to be a shorter distance than I’d anticipated. How had I not found this place sooner?

What must have been dozens of stalls were set up with vendors selling produce and pieces of local craftsmanship. Vulcans of every shape, size, and color milled about examining various items and speaking quietly amongst themselves.

As Koss and I chatted and made our way through the crowd, something bounced off my leg with a little grunt. Looking down, I spotted a young girl looking up at me with wide eyes.

“Ni'droi'ik nar-tor,” she stammered as if she was afraid that I’d hurt her. I supposed that my ears didn’t help. Bumping into an alien in the middle of a Vulcan market must have been startling. Releasing Koss’s arm, I smiled and helped her carefully to her feet. Brushing a bit of dirt off her robe, I noted that she didn’t appear hurt, at least.

“T’Ria,” a voice called, and the little girl called back. A Vulcan woman made her way through the crowd as I stood straight again, and she glanced between myself and her child. The two exchanged a few quiet words in Vuhlkansu, and the mother gave me a small, respectful nod of her head. “Lesek, t’sai...osu.”

We returned her gesture and the two went about their business. When I looked back at Koss, he was examining me as if he was attempting to decipher a puzzle.

“Did I do something wrong?” My voice seemed to knock him back to reality.

“No. Not at all,” he said, but his voice sounded rougher than before.

Once we returned to our path through the stalls, we finally found the section that would hopefully yield the results I wanted: the fruit stalls. I didn’t recognize the majority of the fruit being displayed, so I quietly asked Koss what they were.

Several sounded intriguing, but it wasn’t until we reached a vendor selling little yellow i’su’ke berries that I knew I’d found what I was looking for. Koss described them as being tart, but pleasant if accompanying something sweet. The bright pink ones beside them were called g’teth berries, and they were, apparently naturally sweet.

Perfect.

Removing my hand from his arm to examine the fruit, I purchased just enough to make the surprise I was planning, plus a little extra. There was something to be said about having a little more than you needed when experimenting with a new recipe. Mistakes were bound to happen, after all.

Exchanging the correct amount of currency with the kindly vendor, I stowed the fruit in my shopping bag. When I turned back to where Koss had been standing only a moment before, he was nowhere to be seen. Glancing around, I spotted his broad shoulders moving back through the crowd toward me with something in his hand.

He led me to an empty side section of the market before speaking again.

“Forgive my absence, ashalik. While you were occupied, I made a small detour to another stall. Would you indulge me for a moment by turning around?” I looked at him curiously, but I did as he asked. Why wouldn’t I? The warmth of his presence moved closer to me, and his arms reached around me.

Within his grasp was a silver chain with a deep, red stone - I took a guess that it was a garnet or something similar. The way the light reflected and refracted off the stone’s many facets put any other jewelry I owned to shame. Once the necklace was secured around my throat, Koss swept my hair out from under the metal to its former position. Was I imagining things or did his fingers linger just a beat longer than was necessary over my pulse?

“I thought this pendant appropriate for one whose passions have carried her across the stars,” he murmured somewhat closer to my ear than I had expected. This felt like more than just a casual gift from a friend, though. I knew what I so desperately wanted it to be, even if it was impossible. “You are an admirable, venerable woman, and knowing you is my greatest pleasure.”

I didn’t know what to say. What could I say in the wake of such a sincere compliment?

Before I could find my voice and the correct words to say, part of the crowd moved closer to us, and Koss grasped my hand lightly to guide me away. A few moments later, he pulled me carefully to a stop outside a small shop with his hand still holding mine.

“Would you like to share some tea before we return home? I am familiar with this particular tea maker. He is quite skilled.” He looked so hopeful. How could I possibly refuse?

Smiling up at him, I agreed, and Koss escorted me inside.

“Shif pasu.” The waiter nodded his head at Koss’s request before leading us to a table for two in a secluded little corner. This felt surprisingly intimate, just like many of the other things we’d done together. Was I crazy or was there more to our interactions than I’d previously assumed?

When we were served a single, slightly larger than normal cup of tea, I looked at Koss curiously.

“Is this a Vulcan custom?” A hint of green dusted his cheeks at my question.

“It is, ashaya. However, if you would prefer a second cup–”

“No, no, this is perfectly fine. I was just curious. I’m afraid I don’t know as much about your culture and customs as I should outside of the diplomatic arena,” I explained, and he visibly relaxed.

“I would be gratified to teach you whatever you wish to know,” he said gesturing for me to take the first sip. As I did so, he continued. “For example, this particular custom is traditionally a gesture of trust and familiarity between two individuals. This tea shop is often frequented by couples beginning a courtship.”

“Really?” I asked as I set the cup back down in the middle of the table. “May I ask why that is?”

“To share food and drink - resources which have been scarce throughout our planet’s history - signifies one person’s desire to ensure the survival of the other,” he explained before taking a sip of the tea.

“So...the pair two tables to our left is sharing a cup, as well. Are they...’courting,’ as you called it?” The term sounded rather Victorian, but I wasn’t about to criticize them. I was just happy to be learning something new about Koss and his people. He glanced over at the table I’d indicated, then back at me.

“I have no doubt that they are,” he replied sounding certain of the fact.

“But they’re behaving just like anyone else. Besides the tea, I can’t see anything that sets their behavior apart. What makes you so sure?” I asked curiously, and the barest hint of mischief sparkled in his eyes.

“Look at their hands,” he instructed quietly. I did so as stealthily as I could manage, and I saw that atop the table, the man’s first two fingers were resting over the same fingers on the woman’s hand. When I looked back at my companion, he must have realized that only raised more questions than it answered. “That is quite intimate physical contact.”

What? But Koss had held my hands much more firmly than that tiny, little point of contact. Why was that so different?

“How so?” At my question, he blushed more prominently.

“Lay your hand on the table in the same position as theirs,” he murmured, and I did as he said - of course I did. I trusted him, after all. Delicately, Koss laid his hand on the table, allowing two of his fingers to lay atop mine. A soft, pleasant, dizzying sort of warmth wound its way up my arm from the point of contact, and I looked up at my neighbor curiously. “This is a variation of a gesture called an ozh’esta.”

“Does it always feel like...like this?” I had no idea how to describe the sensation he’d thrust upon me, but I had to assume this was normal for this particular gesture.

“I do not know. What are you feeling?” He asked looking almost surprised.

“Warmth, I suppose, but that doesn’t quite describe it fully. This feels different somehow,” I murmured, realizing how ridiculous I must have sounded.

“I...was unaware that Humans could experience what we do with the ozh’esta. Your species has no telepathic ability,” he muttered. Telepathy? Was that why Vulcans dislike physical contact? Tilting his head curiously, he blinked and the warmth his touch had inspired changed to a subtle, pulsing, tingling sensation. “And now?”

I described it to the best of my ability, and Koss’s eyes darkened as his pupils dilated. After a short burst of what felt like pure pleasure, he removed his hand from mine and took a bracing sip of tea.

“Forgive me. I should not have behaved so inappropriately.”

“You didn’t, Koss, I promise.” I touched his wrist lightly, and he looked at me with surprise written all over his face. Giving him a small smile, I tried to reassure him. “You were teaching me. Thank you for the lesson and for the insight into your culture.”

“You...are welcome,” he said just above a whisper as I sipped our tea. Once our cup was empty, Koss paid the tab and we made our way back toward home.

We paused outside my door moments later, and I turned to face him. He was already looking at me with an expression that - if he’d been Human - I’d have described as softly affectionate. But he couldn’t feel that way about me.

“I just want to thank you for today. I know you probably had better things to do, but I really enjoyed myself. I mean, that’s no surprise, really, because I always enjoy spending time with you, Koss.”

“As do I, ashaya,” he murmured as his eyes skimmed my face.

“You know, if you come by after your evening meal tomorrow, I’ll have a surprise ready for you,” I said with a little wink. Koss tilted his head curiously, but before he could ask what I meant, I stood on my tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “See you for a swim tonight?”

“I...Yes, of course,” he stammered, and I gave him one last smile before heading inside. Now, all I had to do was make sure the recipe would work the way I wanted.

The next day, Soval and I arrived in the Embassy lobby at the same time. We offered each other the ta’al salute as usual, and made our way to the turbolift.

“I take it you had a pleasant day of rest?” Soval inquired as the lift began moving. He sounded almost amused.

“I did, but what’s with the tone?” I asked curiously, but all he did was raise an eyebrow.

“Koss escorted you to the market stalls yesterday, did he not?”

“He did, but how did you know that?” There was no reason for my cheeks to start burning, yet they did. We hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I saw a pair resembling the two of you. The male seemed to be quite a dedicated provider,” Soval stated, and my cheeks heated further. “You were aware that his behavior is that of a male who wishes to win a potential mate’s affections, were you not?”

“I...Soval, you’ve got it all wrong. Koss doesn’t see me like that. I’m not a Vulcan woman.” We stepped out of the lift and started walking toward our shared office. “We went shopping and shared some tea. That’s all.”

“Do you view him as a potential mate?” He asked, and I stopped in my tracks. I had strong feelings for Koss, that much I was certain of, but I knew he could never reciprocate them. Why should he?

“I like him probably more than is proper, but, ultimately, it doesn’t matter,” I murmured resuming my stride, and the Ambassador gave me a quizzical look.

“Explain.”

“Vulcans abhor emotional behavior. I’m a Human. We’re pretty damned emotional. I highly doubt that someone as illogical as I am would be seen as a viable choice for a romantic partner for a man like him.” The door to our office slid open, and we both stepped inside.

“But you do desire to be seen that way by him?” I barely managed an embarrassed nod of confirmation. “I submit to you that he already sees you as such.”

“Your evidence?” I expected no more than a knowing glance, but he surprised me.

“You wore his robe to the Embassy while it still held his scent. He would not have given that to you if he did not wish to express a desire to protect you. His scent was mixed with yours for the duration of the day. No doubt anyone who encountered you that day is now aware that you are under a Vulcan’s protection. Accompanying you to the market, adorning you with a piece of jewelry he’d purchased, and sharing tea with you in a public area - all are actions which illustrate his desire and ability to provide for you. Such behavior would be quite obvious to a Vulcan female as that of a male desiring courtship, because those traits are ones heavily and instinctively sought after in a future mate,” Soval said, but I could do no more than blink in surprise. “Has he attempted to demonstrate his physical fitness to you?”

Memories of our swims together flashed through my mind’s eye, including the time he’d swept me up in his arms so easily. Perhaps his teasing wasn’t quite as innocent as I’d previously assumed it to be.

“Should I take your silence as a confirmation?” I nodded my head silently, then another thought occurred.

“What...? I mean, does serving someone breakfast count as a demonstration that you can provide for them?”

Soval’s eyes widened almost comically.

“I will not ask how that particular opportunity arose, but if he did so unprompted, then yes. I believe it was,” he said with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Oh my god, had Koss been trying to flirt with me the whole time? Was I really so oblivious? Had I done anything to make him think I was rejecting him?

“Ambassador, I should warn you that Vulcan males can be quite single-minded when they have decided that someone would be their ideal mate. If you wish to dissuade him, you must do so clearly and quickly–”

“What if I wanted to reciprocate?”

Soval leaned back against his desk with an almost proud tilt to his chin. Had he been hoping for this outcome?

“It would appear that you are already doing quite well on your own, despite not being fully aware of the implications of your actions,” he stated tilting his head slightly. “By allowing him to complete these tasks and showing your gratitude for them, you have demonstrated that you are open to - and accepting of - his attentions. However, it is likely that he is aware of the vast cultural difference between your species. As such, he may not view these reciprocal gestures as intentional. You may need to be a bit more overt in your own actions.”

At his advice, a plan began to form in my mind. Maybe there was a way I could show Koss how I felt.

“One last concern, which I suspect will become relevant soon: how much do you know of Vulcan biological cycles?” The deep, emerald blush that ignited to the tips of Soval’s ears made my eyes widen. At my confused look, he set the office door to conference mode so that we wouldn’t be disturbed. Clearly, whatever I knew wasn’t as thorough as whatever he was about to tell me. “We do not speak of such things publicly or to outsiders, but yours is...a unique situation. Every seven years...”

~*~*~

Vulcan Words:

ashaya = love

ni'droi'ik nar-tor = I am sorry

lesek = thank you

t’sai = Lady (as an honorific title)

osu = sir

ashalik = darling

shif = pair

pasu = table

#deepspacedukat fic #Koss x Reader #Koss of Vulcan #Koss the Vulcan Architect

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jacscorner · 2 years

Text

An analysis on "Anime Rock, Paper, Scissors".

"Debating the ethical and morals of an AI Tool with an E-Rate Artist."

youtube

Okay, so, like, first of all: I love this video. I've been watching and rewatching it all day. I love it that much.

It captures everything about anime I fell in love with. The over-the-top dialogue, the dramatization over something so mundane as, the the trappings of dark fantasy. It taps into a very specific core of nostalgia for me.

BUT!

Yeah, I love this video to hell and back. But, well, there's no real getting around the messy fact that AI was used in the process-hell, you can even see it in the video thumbnail. Even if this is a few steps above most AI art, AI art will always have a certain 'look' to it that makes it stand out.

So, full disclaimer: I'm not an animator. And I feel I have no real horse in this race, even as an artist. Hell, I wouldn't even really call myself an artist. Sure, I can say I have roughly 13 years of experience drawing, but I don't think my art is really on a level that makes it very appealing and I honestly feel as though I've reached a peak. Like I've reached the apex of my potential and, well, it's not much.

So excuse me for putting my foot in my mouth about a topic I don't really have much to contribute to.

So, Corridor Digital's animated short is 1/2 rotoscoping and 1/2 AI art generation. The AI was trained to emulator a dark fantasy anime style by feeding it screenshots of Vampire Hunter D. The process for how its done can be seen here.

youtube

I'm kind of on two minds on this. For the most part, I don't think AI is gonna replace actual artists. Cause there's just a lot of stuff an actual artist can do an AI can't do. And while the entire process isn't shown, a lot of editing and manipulating had to be done in order to get the AI where they wanted it. A lot of choreography and filming technique was needed. How effects work, writing-art is more than just scribbling on paper and an AI might be able to mimic art, but it can't 'draw'.

Hell, the video still has a lot of jank going on after what was most likely months of work. Like I said, AI art just has a very specific look to it.

But let's get to the nitty gritty: feeding the Vampire Hunter D art into the ai to replicate the style.

On the one hand, this is kind of what I think of when I think of AI being a tool to be used rather than an outright replacement of animators. And I think this is a good showcase of how amazing the technology can be. It looks amazing despite the hiccups.

And artists try to replicate art styles all the time. Hell, some people market themselves on their ability to replicate a certain show's look. I've seen people try to sell Hades style commissions, there's an artist who redraws screenshots of various anime as if they're an early cartoon network show, and don't get me started on Pokemon, Dragon Ball, and Sonic - the big three of style emulation.

BUT!!!

And yes, it's a big 'but'; that's not really what's happening.

I'm not smart enough to put what it does in my own words, but I'll do my best anyway: it's more-or-less a glorified trace job, with (ideally) hundreds of different pieces to work off of to generate a completely new image. Usually without the agreed upon consent of the artists.

I hate to throw around accusations like this, especially when I lazily and hungrily eat up this content like potato chips, but it really is art theft on a grand scale.

I still admire the technical skill that went into this. Even if 'anyone' can do it, there's still a lot of work that went into making this and getting something that's workable. But I don't blame people for calling Corridor Digital out on this when it's so damn blatant.

Now, I won't stop watching the video - like I said, I'm not someone with a real foot in this race, now do I wanna start some kind of revolution against or anything. It's just something to think about after seeing some backlash.

Now, the movie's out on YouTube. In fact, there are 3 different videos of this movie, dubbed.

youtube

And the movie came out roughly 23 years ago. This is NOT yanking it out of starving artists like many are claiming it is. It's practically collecting dust.

However, it's still blatantly robbing other artists who worked on this movie of their credit. But, again, they're using the ai to mimic a certain style and using their photos as a template to follow. But it's still using someone else's work as a reference. Speaking of, it's not like what I uploaded was a legit upload of the film - it's a pirated, uploaded without the rights holder's consent.

So...?

I don't know, I guess I can just kind of see both sides of the argument. I'm not here to tell you that the video is bad or that AI art is inherently bad or that AI generators need to be destroyed. And I'm not telling you that the video is completely and totally free of any shady practices. Personally, this all just feels morally gray to me and Corridor should've hired some concept artist to feed into the AI.

Just wanted to throw my thoughts out there.

#JAC Chat #AI Art #Youtube

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kyberphilosopher · 3 years

Text

Androphobia

Requested? No Word Count: 7014

An Android attempts to offer comfort to someone with sleeping trouble.

Androphobia [an·drow·fow·bee·uh]; Fear of or aversion to men. A related concept is misandry, the hatred of men, but not necessarily fear of them.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

Every woman or female born member of society has experienced an off putting encounter with a man.

This is not to be entirely blamed on men- not as a whole, no. But individuals, the ones you run into on your way out of the grocery store, the ones who stop you on the streets, they are the ones to blame. Some women have the guts to tell them off. Not an easy task with the given anxiety, but one to take pride in for the capability that comes with it. Some women stay quiet, rush away as fast as their polite feet can take them and hope someone will see the problem. They usually don’t. And some women are outliers, tricking their ways out of interactions with these men one way or another, and to them I take my hat off.

There are men who are easily construed as monsters, when in the dead of night their silhouettes flash beneath the tallest of streetlights. And there is no reason to not believe them as such right then and there, for as spoken by our Lady Galadriel, “the hearts of men are easily corrupted.” And any look into statistics will back up this fear, any personal experience, any hug that’s gone on just a bit too suspiciously long, any catching of those wandering eyes and it’s easy to feel in your heart that men are not to be trusted. They are not to be confronted, nor left alone with, and they will jump at the opportunity to put down anyone for the validation of other men.

This is the reality of women and men in 2021. It is the same for several in 2039.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

You step out of your old, dusty car. Chips of the dark red paint flake away as the raindrops hit it. Above you, the gloomy, warm gray clouds roll against each other in different shades and sizes, high above the skyscrapers and the stress of the world.

Gathering your belongings for the day, you shut the door with your hip and shoulder everything. Then you make your way towards the Police Department, your work, with the heels of your shoes scuffing against the parking lot.

Across the way, you can see Detective Reid, who rubs his brow while he does his usual slamming of the car door. There’s no point in looking for Hank at this ungodly hour, he’d never be in on time. He’ll probably park his car next to yours as usual- a little too close so it’s hard to squeeze into your own and pull out without causing his vehicle damage, but you never say anything. Not because you are one of the people who feel threatened by Hank as a man- It’s more because you trust Hank as a person, that you’d never bring up the obvious annoyances he places upon you and everyone else. Though, once you had tried.

(“Cars parked a little close, don’t you think?”

“Shut the hell up.”)

The inside of the Department is bustling. A female Android brushes past you briskly, the others at the front desk all seemingly click clacking away in their own brains. Even months after they’ve gained independence, it’s not uncommon for you to remember how they were before. How still and lifeless they were. And looking back on it, it was awfully sad. They seem busier now, more alive and fast. A strange image, in your mind, but not an unwelcomed one.

You reach your desk in the lobby, on the right side of the room slightly separated from the officers. You’re a psychologist, so it’s not plausible for you to be seated next to bias. Instead you’re in your own corner, with a rather cluttered desk on the top and empty rows of drawers. You do, however, keep a small japanese cherry blossom tree on the top, courtesy of Hank, though his has all but fully withered at this point.

And then you’re ready to start your day. Pull out your chair, click your pen and type away reports and notes on the computer to send to the detectives. You don’t have any meetings scheduled today, so there’ll be no need to prepare questions or anything of the sort. Just an easy day.

And then...

As you and I, the dear reader, have already discussed, finding men to be generally scary is an easy task. And even though you are smart enough to know that it’s simply not possible to truly believe that every man or male presenting individual is terrible, or has done terrible things, or has experienced the desire to do something terrible, there are times where you can’t help the cautiousness. You can’t help the flinch, the distrust, the physical distance, the hand in your pocket grasping for anything to use in self defense. Seeing men like Detective Reid in power, brutish and given guns and easily agitated, certainly doesn’t help.

So when you swish your chair around and come to a stand, your heart drops. You’re looking into the presence of someone tall, with broad shoulders and a strong chest. A man.

[Sort of.]

“Good morning, Doctor L/N.”

“Connor,” you breathe out, eyes flitting down as you attempt to quiet the thump thump thumping of your heart in your throat. “I- I didn’t-”

“Your heart race has increased. You appear stressed, Doctor L/N.”

He cocks his robotic head to the side, his eyebrows creasing as the literal gears in his head turn.

“You just startled me,” you admit, grabbing the back of your chair and moving it over as an excuse to create a bit of distance between you and the [possible] threatening force. “What is it, Connor?”

Now, for context, you and he were not considered close. You’ve spoken a few times, though never as friends, only friendly. You remember seeing him last Winter, when he would stand out in the snow outside the station, just gazing up after Hank had already returned to his own home. You remembered how he was different from the other Androids, besides being more advanced to begin with. You’d never said anything about that. It was obvious the only person it would’ve really mattered to, Hank, was already aware of this. And Hank liked Connor. There was no point in interfering.

In Connor’s eyes, you could really do no wrong. You were smart, intelligent, and diligent in your work. Your job had been threatened by the presence of Androids for years by the time Connor had showed up, but it still appeared that they wouldn’t have done your legacy justice. But despite this, interactions were scarce. You were not friends. You were friendly. And you were always on your guard.

“I was hoping to hear your thoughts on a case Lieutenant Anderson and I have been working on,” Connor tells you. He’s always made efforts to keep eye contact with people, and the tilt of his head tries to follow your eyeline to do so. But it’s never to any avail. “I apologize for the abruptness, but the thought only occured to me last night and I think it could be a good one.”

“Yeah, sure,” you answer. “I can help with that. I’ll get the details from Hank when he comes in.”

“No need,” the Android quickly assures you. When you look up to him for a brief second, you can see his tongue sway against his bottom lip, creating the softest of imprints. His dark eyes glitter like a beatles in the catch from the light above.

He produces a light, manilla colored folder lined inside with papers. “I hope you’ll find all the details you need here,” he explains, offering the file to you.

You take it after a moment, watching his thumb let go in the softest, most normal way possible.

“Thank you, Doctor L/N,” Connor smiles. “I’ll go get you your morning coffee.”

Connor is like a dog in that way. Not in an insulting way, or an obedient way. In a kind way, in a warm way. With his chocolate eyes and the dimples when he smiles, it’s hard not to want to just believe that he is incapable of hurting anyone or anything. Especially a woman.

But when you snap back to reality, you can see his male form. His set back shoulders, the robotic strength, the fact that he was programmed to execute any task he so desires. And then you’re right back on edge, wanting to step back from him until you’re sure you can take a full breath.

It’s easier when he’s taken himself away. You can see him through the glass walls in the kitchen, waiting for the pot to heat up. Doesn’t seem so bad from far away, like most of them do.

You return to the chair and open the file. At first, your eyes flit to the pictures attached at the top- one of a woman that looks so familiar, another of a man whose angry brows cover his eyes. Then they move to the written report, and something clicks.

The woman in the picture was an acquaintance from college. The man next to her was the main suspect, and apparently her lover.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

“Morning Doc,” Hank waves tiredly. Then his tone changes slightly. “The fuck are ya doing at my desk for?”

You push yourself from your lean on the edge of his property anxiously. “I read the report on your case. The Carla Rodriguez one.”

Hank sighs in his classic sigh, tired and grumpy from the morning and being alive. “What about it?” he questions, rummaging through his large bag of prescription pill bottles he’s brought with him every day this year. You suspect Connor has something to do with this.

“I had a... personal relationship with the victim,” you begin, crossing your arms. “I knew her.”

Hank looks at you, bewildered. “You were sleeping with my victim?”

“What? No. What? I- anyway. Carla and I were in college together.”

Hank’s face changes. He leans back with high raised brows in the way he does when processing something.

“The boyfriend did it. I remember him from back then, I think. Real angry guy.”

“You’re sure you know what you’re talkin about?” Hank questions you, though not in an insulting way. You know it’s anything but that.

“I’m sure. I can tell you what you need but you know I can’t testify. You won’t be able to use my bias in your report.”

“But the bias is the whole point.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, along with your shoulders. It’s the universal symbol for ‘I don’t know what to tell you’.

“You talked to Connor about this?”

“Well, no. I- he wanted my opinion but I didn’t tell him this part.”

Hank glances around. “Where's he at anyway?”

You shrug again. You’re thinking about the disposable coffee cup on your desk, left there by Connor a few hours ago, that you’d never brought yourself to touch.

“Run it by the Android before we do anything,” Hank advises you. “Nutjob’s got this whole system in his head.”

“Yeah,” you mutter as Hank seats himself. “That guy’s weird.”

“Tellin’ me?” Hank groans.

And the rest of the morning you spend avoiding Connor, thinking at your desk, barely doing your job while you let yourself get lost in thought. You’re not usually like this. You’re very professional at work- you love this job. The thrill, the learning about criminals and their rehabilitation- it makes you feel so tranquil. Complete, even.

But knowing a victim, knowing the perpetrator, still adapting to the change of Androids looking happy for once, knowing Hank pretends you’re the child he lost- it... it...

You snap your drawer shut.

What’s wrong with you today?

You huff out dry air. When you turn ever so slightly, you can see Hank at his desk, eyes already on you with concerned and empathetic brows. Seeing him calms you down a little, at least makes you feel more in the real moment. After a moment, you turn back straight. Then you smooth back your hair, and open a your file again.

“Doctor L/N?”

You look up slowly, recognizing the boyish, sturdy voice of Connor. Sure enough, there he is. Tall, looking down at you with his warm, brown eyes. They remind you of an excited, loyal dog. Yeah, you think, Connor seems like a dog person.

And then you catch the sharpness of how broad his shoulders are, how little effort it would take for him to kill you, or pin you down, or come at you in the dark.

“Can I speak with you candidly, Doctor L/N?”

“You...may,” you say slowly. Connor begins to squat, until he is level with your eyeline, though he’s over on the other side of your desk. From your view, your cherry blossoms pink petals stand out against the paleness of his skin, and then the darkness of his hair.

“I heard what you said earlier to the Lieutenant,” he begins.

Truthfully, your eyes flicker around his face, mostly between his lips and his nose and his eyes. They’re all so realistic. Well, obviously that was the point in his creation, but still. They’re so human. Connor is human. Even the way he seems to move his mouth, like his lips are just a little dry, is human. Such a strange detail. Perhaps you would never have noticed it if he hadn’t gotten this close.

“When?” you question.

“About 3 hours ago, about the file I gave you.”

Your eyes snap away. Connor’s own eyes follow your movement.

“I know that this must be difficult for you-”

“Connor,” you sigh, slightly exasperated, but still holding it together. Your eyes close like you can’t bear to look at anything in the present moment right now. You must be trying to pretend that you’re somewhere else. “I’ll be alright. This was in my job description.”

The Android’s eyebrows knit for a split second, confused. “Overseeing the psychology behind your friends death was in your job description?”

And it’s a genuine question from him. That’s what makes it so hard to contain your laughter, no matter how frustrated or overwhelmed you are right now.

“Yeah,” you finally muster with a light chuckle. “Apparently.” Then you’re back to business. “This is my job. I’ll be alright. Thank you for your concern.”

“I just considered that, since you’ve been on the news before, the suspect could know that you’re involved.”

“So?” you ask, slightly more snappy than intended.

“He may know you’re here and subsequently attempt to cause you harm.”

There are two conflicting sides in your brain right now. The first one says: Now think about this. How could he harm you in a place full of cops? It’s not like he knows where you live or anything. How could he even find that out? When they bring him in, he’ll be in custody the whole time. Gavin won’t let him out of those handcuffs. Everything will be just fine.

And the other part? It shows you a dark, masculine figure, looming over you. Police department or not, he is there. He will cause you grief and harm, do something so terrible to you you could not even fully imagine it enough to anticipate yourself.

And, despite your better judgement, and to your full awareness, you listen to the second half.

“Okay, so,” you breathe out. “So what are you saying?”

Connor’s eyes draw to his left in a stutter, his mouth parting as if he’s in consideration. “The Lieutenant and I had talked about... having you stay in a... safer place.”

Your eyebrows pinch together. “What do you mean by that?”

Connor looks so human in this moment. it’s so apparent, and piercing in this exact second. The details in his eyes, slightest of blemishes on his cheekbones.

Connor leans in, his eyebrows raising. Subconsciously, you lean back ever so slightly in response.

“We were thinking of taking you to the Lieutenants place.” He sees your eyes widen, getting ready to give a vocal response. “It’s a very safe place,” Connor promises. “I can assure you there are many rooms to your liking.”

You take a minute, looking the Android right in his warm, hopeful, perfectly symmetrical eyes. “Connor, I’m not interested in having this discussion right now.”

“It’s just-”

“Back off,” you snap. It’s assertive. Something you don’t usually do towards masculine presenting beings.

As soon as you say it, you regret it, however. The person across from you just looks so heartbroken, almost. His big brown eyes, the ones that remind you of a loyal dog, are looking right at you. How could you not feel bad for snapping at Connor? Sweet Connor, who doesn’t take pleasure in hurting people no matter how much you convince yourself he does.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

The Carla Rodriguez murder case went on for two more days. Her boyfriend, unfortunately, was not yet found. Hank was working on obtaining a warrant based on your instincts that would give him access to search family members houses for the man. Things were becoming focused.

Each night you went home, you struggled to sleep. You did in fact, find out that Connor may have been onto something when he suggested the consideration of safety. You indeed stayed up later than usual, using both locks on your dirty apartment door for once. It was hard to fall asleep. Whenever you did, it became all too easy for you to imagine a solid, big, broad shouldered figure standing over the foot of your bed, waiting to strike.

A man, as usual.

Ironically, you did feel better when Hank- a man- would come into the station. And then there was Connor, who was somewhere between a puppy and a wolf, half following Hank, half fully capable of loading and discharging a gun. Connor made you feel safe too, but only by association. It felt bad to think about him after the snapping that occurred Thursday, but it could’ve made you feel worse to act unprofessionally in the work place. It was best you try to forget it, and try to forget that Connor has unlimited and invincible memory.

On Sunday, you and Hank had your weekly scheduled lunch. Nothing fancy, just fast food from a food truck by the train tracks. You’ll both probably get burgers, except Hank will try to add lettuce and some vegan bullshit to convince you he’s sticking to his diet. Of course he will.

You throw the keys to your locker in the backroom into your desk drawer, and slip it closed. Across the floor, Hank is already ahead of you, tugging on his crappy jacket and somehow standing patiently and grumpily at the same time.

“Ready to go?” you ask as you approach him, your own jacket in hand.

“Yeah, just waitin’ for the kid,” Hank replies casually.

“The kid?”

“I’m ready to go, Lieutenant,” the enthusiastic voice of Connor rings out. He has one of those voices where you can tell when he’s happy and smiling too, and he is in this very moment.

Nobody ever joins you and Hank. You knew Hank had taken Connor to the truck before, but that was just between them, and this was just between you. An odd decision on Hank’s part to make such a change.

“Alright,” Hank calls back. Then he turns to you, the smallest of knowing grins on his face. “Ready when you are, Doctor.”

You just nod your head and start walking out to Hank’s car, unsure of what to do think. In the end, you decide to just not think at all.

“What are you doing this for?” you’d ask Hank as you were walking, when the Android known as Connor was out of earshot.

“What? You got a problem with Connor?” You shake your head no. “Well good. Because besides bein’ a freak he’s perfectly fine.”

Yep. Thanks, Hank.

The drive over is silent, besides Hank’s music. You like his taste, but it doesn’t make you feel less tense around Connor. On the other hand, Connor is completely oblivious of said tension. You can see him in the rearview mirror, smiling and looking out the window every now and again.

Once arriving to the scene, Connor gets out first. You click your seatbelt away, about to pull the handle open when you notice Hank hasn’t moved at all.

“You coming?”

“Mm,” Hank fake thinks, flipping through his cd cases. “Nah.”

“Well then... well then are you even hungry?”

“I got food back at the office,” he sighs, not even looking up at you. “Indian from last night. Gonna wreak havoc on the ol’ plumbing.”

“Then what did you bring me here for?” you question finally, developing a tension headache from how often you’ve been knitting your brows together lately.

Hank looks up and over, an almost offended expression on his face. You can see it in his wide old eyes, the angry eyebrows, the slightly opened mouth.

“Because I’m trying to create a warm and loving social circle.”

“You one time told me die because I ate your jar of pickles!” you cry. “Oh my god- Hank, is this about me and Connor? Is that it? You want us to get along?”

“Yeah, and what if I do?” Hank turns to you fully, putting an angry hand on the steering wheel to clutch something.

“It doesn’t matter!” you exclaim. “It literally doesn’t matter at all!”

Hank is quiet. You can see his beady, angry eyes on you, his jaw clenching. “Get the fuck outta my car,” he says at last.

“Gladly,” you mutter. You open the door and slam it closed.

Looking across the wet, rainy street, you can see Connor looking up at the sign of the food truck known as Chicken Feed innocently. You breathe out, feeling the heat from the previous ‘discussion’ beginning to melt away.

Okay, Y/N, you tell yourself. Just go talk to him.

You begin your walk across the street, hearing the light tapping of the rain hitting the asphalt all around you. His back is getting closer and closer. You still have a chance to turn around.

“Hey, Connor,” you say lightly.

“Hello, Doctor L/N,” Connor greets in return warmly.

“Whatcha... thinking about eating, there?” you ask, both of you knowing damn well Androids can’t eat.

“I’m not sure,” he admits. Then he shrugs, and very genuinely says, “I guess I could have some french fries.”

“Alright. I’ll get you some.”

And you do. And you feel so stupid while ordering it. The guy in charge, Gary, looks at you with an ‘are you sure?’ expression on his face, but you only continue with the order, confirming that, yes, you are sure. Then you and Connor sit next to each other in silence, waiting for your food to be ready. You pretend to be very interested in a stain on one of the back menus for about three straight minutes.

“Here you go,” Gary hands you the food. You take the bags and speed off immediately to an umbrella by the place. Even though you’re essentially powerwalking at about 6 miles per hour, it doesn’t feel fast enough in the moment. Connor is right there beside you the whole time.

“Here’s your fries,” you mutter, pushing the bowl towards him.

“Thank you,” he says, formally. Then Connor just stares down into the bowl.

“I appreciate you paying for this meal, Doctor L/N,” Connor decides to say after another moment. When you look up, you can see he’s leaning down ever so slightly so that he’s closer to your height, and making pretty sturdy eye contact. It’s moments like this that you think you’re talking to Connor’s social programming, and probably not him naturally.

“You don’t have to call me Doctor, Connor,” you breathe. “We’re not at work right now.”

“I apologize. How would you like me to address you then?”

“Well... how would you like to address me?”

Connor thinks for a moment. You can tell because his led is switching between yellow and white. Then the beginning of his eyebrows start twitching, along with the corners of his mouth, just like a human would when they have several thoughts on the tip of their tongue but none of them seem just right. It’s cute when he does it.

“You can just call me Y/N,” you rush out in an attempt to save Connor from quite possibly exploding.

He does the twitching once more, then looks up to the top of the umbrella without moving his head. “And, is this outside of the workplace or in it as well?”

“What would you prefer?”

His led goes yellow again. He looks back to you. “That depends whether or not you consider us friends, Doctor L/N.”

This takes you back. You’re silent, stunned, looking at him with slightly widened eyes for a few seconds- maybe a whole minute- before you make the decision to look at your burger and change the subject.

“How’s been adjusting to life as a free man?” you ask, unwrapping the foil from your warm food.

Connor adapts to the subject change after a few seconds, and you know that he’s seen right through you. “It’s strange,” he tells you, deep in thought, but sincere. “But, people seem happy.”

“Are you happy?” you prompt further, biting a big bite into the meat.

Connor thinks again. He thinks a lot. “Yes,” he decides. “I suppose I feel alive,” he admits. It sounds like a confession, and when he turns his head to look over to you, he sees your eyes are already on him. “Are you happy?”

“Am I happy?” you repeat in question. “I... guess I am, overall.”

“Do you enjoy working as a criminal and forensic expert?”

Now it’s your turn to think. You swallow down your bite. “Yeah, I think so. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time. And now I have it, and I’m comfortable and all. So yes... And you? As a detective?” You bite into the burger again.

“Well, it is what I was created for,” Connor tells you, with an almost charismatic, joking tone. It looks like he’s smiling a little, too. Cute. “I think so. Working with Lieutenant Anderson has gotten better.”

“God, I remember when you first came in,” you roll your eyes. “Hank was all in a mood. One of the grouchiest days for him. But he likes you now.”

Connor watches you pull the burger away from your face. He’s thinking again, but also admiring your features from up close. He doesn’t usually get to do this with you. The proof is in the lack of response to the ‘would you consider us friends?’ question.

“You know,” Connor says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice for the millionth time. “I really admire how talented you are in your line of work.”

You feel heat in not just your cheeks, but in the rest of your face as well, as if you have a very sudden fever. You decide to keep your face down, trying to naturally make it not look like you’re using your burger as a shield. “Thank you,” you respond.

The heat begins to subside, so you look back up to him. “I admire your...” and you can’t finish the sentence. Not because you can’t think of anything to admire. You know you had a good one in mind to say to him. But when you look up at his boyish face, with the innocent smile and the comforting eyes and the most human details in his skin, you lose your train of thought.

It seems too late and rude to continue by the time you regain it, so you just decide to leave it and eat your burger as quickly as possible.

“Are you done with your fries?” you ask, as Connor looks down at the untouched basket.

“Yes, thank you.”

You don’t even look into the waste of 2 dollars as you speed walk to the trash can and dump it full of everything. Then you hop across the street, Connor right behind you.

Getting back into Hank’s car makes you roll your eyes. It’s not that you’re mad with Connor anymore so much- not that you would describe the feeling as mad in the first place. You’re not even sure you’re ‘mad’ at Hank so much anymore. It’s more like you’re in the area that you previously had a yelling match in, so all that energy is still there. So stupid.

“Hey, you two,” Hank greets, though to you it sounds condescending.

“Hello,” Connor chirps back.

You just shoot Hank a glare.

“How was lunch?” The old man prompts, holding your eye contact knowingly the entire time.

“It was fine,” you tell him.

“Fine?”

“Yeah,” you practically seethe. “Just fine.”

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

You stay in your house for another two days. Sleeping has become far more difficult, though you’d never openly admit it. Hank can see it in your face. There’s dark circles under your eyes, far more noticeable than before. Your eyes are dragging themselves down, along with the rest of your body which seems to be in a constant slump.

You’re like a zombie. You’re just carrying yourself around, mindlessly doing your tasks while you try not to nod off at work. Hank hasn’t said anything. He just watches you from afar, not knowing how to apologize because he’s never been able to pull himself into one.

Connor hasn’t said anything either. Hank’s pet has continued his daily routines around the precinct, going where he’s told and sitting on the other side of the older man. You haven’t been observing them much lately. Been a bit too preoccupied with the threat of sleep paralysis to do anything that you find matters in a social sense.

Carla’s case is still open. Her boyfriend is still out there, watching and waiting. Maybe for you. Maybe for some other innocent woman. You keep picturing him towering over you, his shoulders looming, strong jaw twitching with anger. Those masculine brows, defined with the intent to strike at you. Kill you, like your old friend.

Finally, on the fourth day of little to know sleep, you fell asleep at your desk. Completely zonked out, your head slumped against the surface, squishing your cheek in the process. Connor jumped up from his seat, Hank following shortly after. But there was no threat, you were simply resting. Once the two realized this, they calmed a little. Hank opted to send Connor over to you to check you out, crossing his arms as he got ready to observe.

The Android creeps over. Your breathing is steady. So is your heartrate. You’re not in shock or anything at all. You’re not even hurt.

“Y/N?” he prompts lightly, now crouched to be close enough to your ear so he can whisper. His chocolate eyes glance around the precinct, looking for anyone who might have noticed you to try and save you some embarrassment. Then he glances towards the Captain in his office, and he knows he has to hurry himself so you don’t get caught and reprimanded.

“Doctor L/N?”

No response. Connor looks back at Hank, who shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly with little help.

“Doctor L/N, you have to wake up,” he tells you, poking the back of your slumped shoulder.

You were asleep, yes, but apparently not very deeply. You stir from your slumber, raising your head and your mousy appearance to look over at Connor with confused eyes.

“What happened?” you strain, stretching. Connor detects a bit of drool on the corner of your lips.

“You fell asleep at work,” Connor explains slowly.

“I did?” you squint, obviously still out of it.

“You have... drool on your lips.”

You wipe the left corner. “The other side,” Connor gestures lightly to his own lips. “Yes. You got it.”

“Was I out for long?” you look around, adjusting to the so very bright lights of the building.

“No,” Connor answers in that sweet, sweet voice of his. “Maybe a minute, or two.”

“Oh,” you say, your eyes wandering around.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

That night, it rains.

Thunder echoes, with ripples of light from the lightning that bears across the sky like great claw hands.

You watch the view out your window from the middle of your bed for a long time. You’re curled up in a ball on the blankets, not even under them. You’re just there, watching the sky that reflects in your eyes.

A sudden stir in you gives you a change of heart. Something you can’t explain to the fullest extent, something not even I, the one in charge of relaying all that’s happening to you, could explain the exact feeling. It’s like the snapping of a rubber band at 2:15 in the morning.

You can’t stay in this apartment anymore. Not even two locks are enough to protect you. Not your kitchen knives, or the gun given to you from the department for self defense. None of it seems like enough, because all of those things are used after something happens. They don’t prevent it.

You’re in a hurry. The comfiest pajamas you own are soaked in the salty rain water and protected only by the simplest of winter coats you own. It’s nice, though not appropriate for the current weather of course. Your hair gets drenched fast. Every individual drip that falls from the tip of your nose is felt, like you’re more hyperaware than usual.

Now you’ve arrived at a house. A one story, fairly inexpensive home with a garage and recognizable old car out front. As you approach, you can already hear the barking of a dog, see a neighbor turn their lights on briefly to observe you, and feel the shivering of your knuckles as they tap on the door sporadically.

Come on, Hank, you think. Please protect me. Please do this for me.

And, believe me, Hank Anderson would’ve done it had he been awake. But he hadn’t been, and so he didn’t answer the door. Instead, the door swings open, and inside you see an Android.

A tall one, with soft facial features. He has long, dark eyelashes framing dark eyes, surrounded by dark hair. He’s clean and clear cut, very put together. It’s Connor, Hank’s pet that you’ve never been able to get the hang of knowing. And he’s as shocked as you are.

Your drenched hair, shivering body, distant look in your eyes. Though, Connor’s unsure of how he would appear if he had to show up to anyone’s house at 2:34am. Probably unwell. Probably a little bit like you.

“Doctor L/N,” he says, though it seems mostly to himself. His parched lips barely move, though you notice how pink they look in comparison to everything else right now.

“Can I come in?”

Connor is still for a few seconds, obviously still processing your appearance. For what, you don’t know. Must’ve been one of the few things he’s simply unable to calculate. But then he moves himself to the side, and you carry yourself in.

As soon as the door closes behind you, everything is so much warmer. You haven’t been to Hank’s place in months, but it still feels as homey as it did before. It’s cleaner than it was a year ago. There’s more pictures on the walls, more clutter lining the shelves. He’s starting to care about things again. That’s good.

“What are you doing here?” you suddenly ask, turning around to face Connor.

That’s right- what is he doing here? He and Hank couldn’t be living together, could they? Or is... or is it that Hank is pretending Connor is someone else, too?

Connor’s led goes yellow, then blue, then back to yellow. “Lieutenant Anderson has offered me a place to stay until I’m ready to go on myself,” he explains, though the way it looks at you makes it seem like Connor doesn’t want to tell you this. Like he feels the need to explain himself.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

You wipe your face, smearing your leftover makeup from your eye with the rain water. It burns, but you can’t feel it over the cold. “I uh- um... I’ve been having trouble- trouble sleeping.”

Connor’s lips close, and he looks at you in understanding as you stand there, now feeling your own pressure of having to explain yourself.

“Just like... at my place I can’t- can’t sleep. Not a lot of it.”

Connor knows he shouldn’t, but it’s right there on the very tip of his tongue. It’s so close to just spilling out, until finally it does, all at once. He’s too curious to try and stop it. “Why?”

“I just- I can’t-”

You’re looking everywhere. The floor, the wall, covering your eyes with your arm or your hand, shifting back and forth between feet, making a soggy spot on the floor from your dripping clothes.

“Can’t sleep.”

When you look up to Connor again, you feel better. Still panicked, but like you’re not in trouble. His eyes are so soft. They’re so human, and comforting. He looks at you like he understands, and like he’s not upset. You can see why Hank would pretend he is who he is now. But there’s no one for you to pretend who Connor is. He’s just Connor. And he’s better than you.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

Connor lets you wear one of his sets of identical clothes. It’s a grey t-shirt and blue pajama pants. Your hair is still wet, but Connor doesn’t say anything. He lets you sit on the couch and watch one of Hank’s basketball recordings while he goes to make tea.

He brings it to you and sets it down on the coffee table in front, but like days ago, you can’t bring yourself to touch it. Connor’s made himself a cup too, but doesn’t drink it. It’s deadly silent, the only light coming from the faint glow of the tv, the only sound coming from the biases of those annoying sports commentators.

“Connor?” you whisper hoarsely, turning your body to face him.

He looks over at you, at full attention. Such a soft boy.

“Do you think I’m afraid of anything?”

Connor’s led goes yellow. It flickers in circles until finally he says, “What do you mean, Y/N?”

You look down at your hands. “W-when I try to sleep, I see someone,” you say, not bearing to look at anyone from that gender for a moment. “He never leaves me alone. I feel like I- like I’m seeing this thing everywhere. I can’t avoid it. It won’t leave me alone.”

“What is it?” Connor prods gently, leaning in in that innocent, but curious way he does.

You open your mouth like you’re going to answer, but then your mouth goes dry. Instead, you just shrug your shoulders in a weak attempt of lying.

“Um... why are you still awake?” you ask instead.

“Androids don’t need to sleep,” Connor explains to you. “We just power down to conserve energy, but I don’t need as much as others.”

A light puff of air escapes your nose in time with the flickering of the corners of your lips. “Sounds like you’re bragging,” you tease for a second.

Then it goes quiet.

“I don’t think you’re scared of anything,” you hear Connor’s voice say clearly. “At least, not that I’ve seen. You’re very diligent in your work.”

You take the compliment. It warms your chest for a moment, but the pit inside you is not so easily gotten rid of.

Your nails scrape against each other, breaking while you pick at one of your index fingers. “I think I have like... this fear of men. Fear of something.”

Connor’s led goes yellow.

“Androphobia, also known as the fear of male presences, affects nearly one third of the current female population.”

Connor watches you continue to pick at your nails. The memory of you standing at the door step, shivering like a kitten, drowning in the rain water stays on his mind. “Is this what you think you have, Y/N?” he asks, though this time it’s far more soft.

It sounds like he really cares.

You look up to him, your eyes glossing over from stress and the incoming wave of tears you can feel in the back of your throat.

“I can assure you, Doctor L/N, you are safe here,” Connor continues, holding eye contact as he speaks. “I won’t let any kind of harm get to you.”

The tears in your eyes seem less violent now. Like they’re disappearing already. And that’s how the story ends, in fact. With you, looking up at Connor, seated on Hank’s couch with your hair dripping around you- him promising not to hurt you. It ends on the silence that follows, right between the stare the two of you share.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

This is the first thing I’ve proof read. Also one of the longest things I’ve written somehow? It was fun. I apologize for any mistakes as English is not my first language.

1K notes · View notes

obeymeoasis · 3 years

Text

Demon Bros React: MC Is Insecure

Warnings: mentions of insecurity surrounding body image, physical appearance, self-worth.

Lucifer

It was the day after a party Diavolo had thrown at his castle. You had had fun for the most part, dancing with the brothers and eating delicious foods prepared by Barbatos.

But you also remembered how it had felt to look around the room and realize you were surrounded by gorgeous demons, not a single flaw on anyone’s face. Doubt and insecurity had begun to creep into your mind, and that feeling had carried over into the next day.

You had only talked briefly with Lucifer at the party because he was too busy interacting with Diavolo’s guests. Every time you tried to catch his eye, you noticed how beautiful whoever he was talking to was and found yourself swallowing down your greeting.

Currently Lucifer was at his desk like always, scribbling down notes and shuffling through papers. You brought him afternoon tea and sat reading in one of his armchairs to keep him company.

You had been telling yourself that you were going to ask him the question that was burning in your mind, but an hour had already passed since you first came in. You tried to distract yourself with your book but the words were fuzzy on the page. Finally, you spoke. “Luci?”

He didn’t look up from his desk when he answered, “Yes, love?”

“Do you... do you ever wish I was more beautiful?”

The scratching of his pen stopped immediately and Lucifer lowered the papers he was holding to show his face, a carefully blank expression revealing nothing. “What exactly do you mean by that question?”

“I mean exactly what I asked. Do you ever wish I was more beautiful? More attractive? As the Avatar of Pride have you ever been... embarrassed to be seen with me?”

At this Lucifer’s expression grew cold and furious. “Has someone... made you feel this way? Has someone made you feel as if you are inadequate?” You shook your head sadly and whispered, “No, just my own brain.”

“Ah, I see. Well pet, I don’t ever wish you were more beautiful because you are the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen. So it would be physically impossible for you to be more beautiful than you are now.”

You snorted. “Luci, that was so cheesy. Your brothers would throw up if they heard what you just said.” Lucifer’s lips quirked up in amusement. “Well, I’m glad I was able to make you laugh. And I do mean what I said. I’ve never once felt embarrassed to be with you; you are my pride, the source of my happiness. If anyone were to suggest otherwise, I would gladly kill them.”

“Luci, we’ve been over this. You can’t just kill everyone who is mildly rude to me.”

Lucifer went back to working on his papers but there was a gentle smile on his face. “Darling, you’ll find that I definitely can. I have a permit.”

Mammon

You were regretting tagging along to one of Mammon’s photo shoots. At first, it seemed like a fun idea getting to look at all the clothes, makeup, and jewelry. Plus, you really wanted to see what Mammon was like when he was working professionally.

It was fun at first, you cooing over how handsome Mammon looked in his outfit and watching him get all flustered and blushy. But then the actual photoshoot started and you watched as Mammon posed with a stunning model.

You tried to not let your insecurities get the best of you. You were here to support Mammon! But as the shoot progressed you couldn’t help but start to compare yourself, keeping track of how they were more beautiful and you more flawed.

The photographer stopped to take a break and Mammon immediately bounced over to you. “MC, did you see me? How does it feel to watch the Great Mammon in his natural element? I look good, don’t I?”

You caressed Mammon’s cheek and feigned a bright smile. “You were amazing Mammon! You look so handsome. And this is such a cool outfit!” But Mammon was somehow always able to tell when you were faking a good mood and he frowned. “MC, is something wrong? You look sad. Did something happen?”

You opened your mouth, an excuse ready on your lips, but found you couldn’t lie right to Mammon’s face. You gestured toward the model who was talking to their manager in the corner. “Do you ever wish I looked like that?”

Mammon cocked his head, confused. “Do I ever wish you had blue hair? Not particularly? Although now that I think about it, blue hair would look cool on you too.”

You sighed. “No, I mean do you ever wish I looked like a model? Sexier? Or prettier?” Mammon thought for a moment, processing your question, and then frowned. “Oh no no no. Treasure, what’s this all about? What happened?”

“Sorry Mams, I didn’t want to distract you while you’re working. I just got really low and insecure all of a sudden. Started thinking about how you should be with someone really beautiful, you know? And sometimes I feel like that’s not me.”

Clearly upset, Mammon rushed to give you a crushing hug, tucking your head underneath his chin. “MC I- I wish I could beam my thoughts into your head. That way you’d really believe me when I say that you’re so precious to me. Every day I wake up and think about how lucky I am to be with you.”

You chuckled a little. “I do put up a lot with you, don’t I.” Mammon gently smacked you on your back. “Hey! I’ve been good lately! But seriously MC, you are stunning. You are gorgeous. And it’s okay if you don’t believe me right now because- because I’ll tell you as many times as you need me to! I’ll tell you a thousand times a day! A million times!”

You tried to blink away the tears in your eyes and held onto Mammon even tighter. “Thanks Mams, I love you so much.”

“Love you too treasure. Your first man’s gonna take care of you, don’t you worry about a thing.”

Leviathan

Usually you liked watching anime with Levi; it was one of your favorite things to do together. Levi was always more happy and lively when watching with you because he was able to express his opinions freely without judgment. And you thought it was adorable how excited Levi got over his favorite characters and storylines.

Today, you were snuggled together on some cushions re-watching an episode of “The Magical Ruri Hanai: Demon Girl”. At first you were enjoying the episode, laughing as Ruri got used to the oddities of the human world. But Levi’s repeated comments about how cute Ruri-chan was, which you usually never minded, started to bother you a bit.

You took a quick glance around the room, noting Levi’s enormous collection of Ruri-chan posters, figurines, and other merch. Levi tapped you on the knee, interrupting your thoughts. “MC, you’re missing the best part! What are you looking at?”

You sighed a little, struggling to act nonchalant. “Sorry Levi, it’s nothing. I’m still watching.” Frowning, Levi paused the episode and turned to look at you. “Hey, what’s up?”

Taking a deep breath, you said “Levi, I’m not Ruri-chan.” He narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Yes... I know?”

You continued, “I don’t look like Ruri-chan. Does that bother you?”

“Does it bother me... that you don’t look like an anime character?” He repeated the question slowly, as if you had asked him the strangest question in the world.

Frustrated, you blurted out “I don’t look like Ruri-chan! I’m never going to be as cute as her!”

Levi looked completely bewildered, his eyes wide and staring at you in confusion. “B-But you are cute! MC, w-what are you even talking about?”

Embarrassed at your outburst you looked down at the floor silently. Levi scooted over toward you so that your knees were touching and he waited until you broke the silence. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m good enough. I think maybe you’d like it if I looked cuter or acted cuter, like the characters in anime.”

Levi hesitated for a moment before quickly grabbing onto your hand, blushing furiously as he did so. "MC, I-I already think you're c-cute. Really really cute. So don't say things like that. And also, I like you because you're you! Not because you're like someone else."

"And you make me really happy. I'm just a gross otaku. I never thought I'd be able to... to find someone like you. Someone who accepts me."

He tried to lock eyes with you but blushed even harder and stared at your joined hands. "Plus, I couldn't to-touch an anime character. But I can touch you. I can hold your hand or give you hugs whenever you need it, o-okay?"

You leaned your head onto Levi's shoulder and closed your eyes, letting the peaceful silence wash over you.

Satan

You were accompanying Satan on a trip to one of his favorite stores: an antique shop that sold all manner of rare books and artifacts. The owner, Ms. Sparrow, was a friend of Satan’s and she welcomed the two of you wholeheartedly.

Today, she looked as gorgeous as she always did. Her chic pearl dress and matching silk gloves shone against her dark skin. Not a curl in her hair was out of place and even the click-clack of her heels on the floor seemed melodious somehow.

You left Satan to look at the books and went wandering off into the various aisles of the store, marveling at all the bits and bobs. In one of the over-stuffed corners you happened to find a glittering silver key on a red velvet ribbon. Taking it in your hand, you went back through to show it off to Satan, wanting to ask him what he thought it opened.

But Satan was busy chatting and laughing with Ms. Sparrow. You watched the two of them for a moment and noticed how well they complimented each other. Both had a certain poise, a kind of confidence and certainty in their movements.

On your walk back to the dorms, you were unusually quiet and Satan noticed. “Pet, is something the matter?”

You hesitated, wondering if Satan was going to find your insecurity childish. “Satan, I’m not very....elegant.”

“Yes, I know. You choked on a piece of bread yesterday. The day before that you tripped over absolutely nothing and fell down.” He smiled, expecting for you to get riled up, but it fell when he saw that you looked dejected. “Love, what is the matter? Have I upset you?”

You avoided his gaze. “Sometimes... sometimes I wonder if I bring you down by being with you. I feel like you deserve someone elegant and sophisticated. Someone who matches you. But I’m not. I’m clumsy and messy and not perfect, like Ms. Sparrow.”

Satan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Ms. Sparrow? What does she have anything to with this?” He turned you around so that you were facing him. “Pet, please look at me. I love you. And I’m not with you in spite of you being clumsy or messy. I love you because you’re clumsy and messy, because those are parts of you and I love all of you.”

He leaned down to press his forehead against yours. “And why would I need someone perfect? Am I perfect? Yesterday you saw me screaming at my cup because I accidentally spilled some tea and burned my finger.”

You shrugged while giggling, “I thought it was a perfectly reasonable response.” You wrapped your arms around his and buried your face into his shoulder. “Thanks, Satan. You always know how to make me feel better.”

He reached down to give you a gentle kiss. “Anytime, love. I’m always here for you.”

Asmodeus

Asmo has a lot of fans across all his social media accounts. That was made perfectly clear the first time you went on a date with him outside. Sitting in the trendy coffeeshop, several people had come up to ask him for a picture or an autograph. He was never shy about you and always introduced you as his sweetheart, cooing about how beautiful you were.

Some days it was okay. You loved seeing the bubbly social-butterfly side of Asmo. He was always so sweet to everyone who came up to him and genuinely enjoyed meeting new people. But other days, your insecurity rose up like a huge wave and dampened everything.

This particular day you were shopping with Asmo in a new boutique that had opened up. You were aimlessly flicking through the racks of clothes when you heard a large squealing.

Two demons ran up to Asmo, talking and gesturing excitedly. You could make out that they followed him on Devilgram and were asking if he was willing to take a picture with them. These demons were some of the most attractive beings you had ever seen. Their clothes were incredibly stylish and their hair and makeup were done flawlessly.

Looking around the shop, in all of the full length mirrors you could see the reflection of Asmo and his beautiful fans. And you looked out of place, like a puzzle piece that didn’t fit in at all.

Tearing up, you grabbed a random pair of jeans off the rack and ran into a changing room. You turned away from the mirror, not wanting to look at yourself, and took deep breaths to try and keep from bursting into sobs. After a few moments Asmo began looking for you, having finished taking pictures. “Sweetheart, are you changing? Let me see what you’re wearing when you’re done!”

At the sound of his voice you burst into tears and your attempts to muffle the noise were futile. Outside the door, Asmo’s voice sounded panicked. “Darling, are you okay? What’s the matter? Please come outside, whatever it is please let me help you!” You hesitated, not wanting to face him, but this made him even more frantic. He started jiggling the doorknob and knocking on the door.

You opened it, afraid that he would accidentally break the doorknob leaving you trapped inside. As soon as he saw you he gathered you in his arms and began making shushing noises while smoothing your hair. “Sweetheart, why are you crying? Please talk to me, please tell me what’s wrong.”

You tried to get the words out in between sobs and hiccups. “A-Asmo, don’t you want someone m-more beautiful? Someone who-who looks g-good with you?” Asmo paused for a moment, processing your words, and then his eyes burned with anger. “Sweetheart, did one of my fans say something mean to you? Did someone make you feel like this?”

You shook your head vigorously. “No, just me.” Asmo breathed a sigh of relief at hearing no one had harrassed you and resumed smoothing your hair. “Oh, darling. You ARE beautiful. You’re stunning, sweetheart. I wish you could see the way I saw you, how adorable and gorgeous you are. And I understand that there are going to be days when you don’t believe me, when you feel like you’re not. But at least don’t go through those days alone, okay?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak without tearing up again.

"Now, let's go get some ice cream. We can eat it while taking a bubble bath."

Beelzebub

You weren’t really sure why Beel liked you coming with him to the gym all the time, even if you didn’t exercise. He said your presence was calming and that it made him focus better, which was odd because a lot of the time you just sat on an unoccupied machine and scrolled through your D.D.D.

Today was much the same, with Beel running on the treadmill and you watching some videos. The gym was pretty empty, just a few students exercising here and there.

Your eyes drifted to Beel who was running without even breaking a sweat. His body was all solid muscle: his arms, legs, and abs looked perfectly chiseled and toned. Last week you accidentally ran into Beel in the hallway and it felt like you had smashed into a brick wall. Beel, on the other hand, was completely fine.

You began to wonder what Beel thought about your body. He could be pretty handsy at times and he wasn’t shy in his affections. But what if there was something he didn’t like? Something that he thought needed changing?

He’s never mentioned anything about exercising to you before. But you thought back to the students you had seen in this gym: all of them were extremely fit with incredible bodies. You couldn’t help but start to compare yourself to them and think that maybe you were lacking.

Just then, Beel finished his run and walked over to you. You weren’t sure what kind of facial expression you were making but it seemed enough to concern him because he asked, “MC, is everything okay?”

“Hey Beel... do you ever wish I had a nicer body?”

He squinted in confusion. “What do you mean by ‘a nicer body’?”

“I don’t know... just better. Whatever nicer looks like for you.”

Beel was quiet for a moment, thinking. “No, I've never wished for that before. I still don't know what you mean by 'nicer'. I love you. And I love your body because its yours. The only thing that matters to me is whether you’re happy. And as long as I'm still allowed to touch you, then I'm happy.”

He looked at you nervously then, biting his lip. "Am I... still allowed to touch you?"

You laughed and reached to give him a hug, loving how safe it felt in his arms. "Of course, big guy. Thanks for making me feel better. You always know what to say."

Beel flushed with pride and closed his eyes in happiness, leaning into your hand as you patted him on the head.

Belphegor

You knew you were dreaming because you were sitting in a R.A.D classroom surrounded by fellow students, but you couldn’t focus on any of their faces. They were blurry, as if someone had smudged them like an artist had smudged some charcoal.

You were at your desk, looking around the classroom, when as if on cue all of the students began to slowly gather around you. They stood there silently for a moment, unmoving, and you felt a shiver go up your spine.

And then one by one the students began to hurl insults at you.

“You’re not good enough. Not good enough for Belphegor.” “You’re ugly, you’re hideous. “You’re unwanted, go back to where you came from.” “You don’t deserve what you have, don’t deserve good.” “You’re weak.” “You ruin others, you ruin everything.”

As they insulted you the students began to draw themselves closer, pushing and shoving to reach you. They almost made a cover over your desk as if to block out all the light. You hunched over your desk, shaking and panicking, trying to curl up to protect yourself.

One of the demons began shaking your shoulder roughly, you yelping in pain. He began yelling in your ear, “Wake up! Wake up!”

“MC! Wake up!”

You startled awake and looked around the room in fear. You were in Belphie’s bed, your pajamas sticking to you with sweat. Belphie was looking at you with concern, one hand still on your shoulder.

“MC, you’re okay. It’s just me. It was just a nightmare.” You let out a sob and buried yourself in his arms while he patted you on the back until your breaths evened out.

“D-Did you see my dream?” you asked. You were nervous about showing Belphie that weak side of you, the insecurities that had been brewing since the two of you had begun a relationship. He looked apologetic. “I did. You were whimpering and shaking in your sleep. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He reached over, one hand smoothing your hair, the fingers of his other hand interlaced with yours. “None of what they said was true, you know.” You looked down, embarrassed. “I mean it, MC. You are good enough. You’re beautiful, you’re wanted, you deserve all the nice and beautiful things in the world, you’re strong. And most importantly, you lift others up. You lift me up everyday.”

He lifted up your hand and pressed a kiss against it. “You lifted me out of darkness. I love you so much. And I’ll gladly stay by your side, for as long as you’ll have me.”

You grabbed the front of his sweater to draw him into a rough kiss, lips bruising. “Forever, Belphie. Forever.”

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kakubun · 3 years

Text

boo boos

about: where bonten gets patched up by you.. eh except for a minoorrr error

a/n: i hate writing bonten because it's so damn cliche and "you're the only one i love" type of bs but it's addicting🔫🔫

warnings: mentions of blood and violence, chapter 189-206 spoilers‼️‼️, kissing in kakucho's part

tag tag: @rindousarus, @lucylikesbluehairedmen

(lucy idk who you like in bonten but here you go😭😭)

sanzu

obviously sanzu is the type to be careless and he sometimes would scratch his face whenever a bastard had a chance to touch him but he easily kills them off

most of the times (would say 3 times), he would be high and it's a completely wrong time for him to be sent off to a mission but he lives the risks of being high so he'll just take whatever the hell mikey gave him

it would be a lot more messier execution and blood would stick and drip down his face while rindou and ran asked him to wash off the stains of his face (no sanzu, doesn't matter if it's the results of your hardwork after pill popping and killing idc)

he eventually does clean off the grime on his face and felt a stinging sensation on his cheek, he touched up everywhere on his face and the scar was lined on the left of his cheek

he sighs with a grin and pressed the wound again and again, feeling the burn of the scar opening and closing

he hums as he slid into your private room to find anything to patch him up or maybe you.. if you could

he peeked from the door way and you were writing down.. who knows? whatever you were writing down was long forgotten when you looked up cause you felt a precense and immediately rushed to sanzu

"cmere you idiot" it's the shocking way to find out, you the partner of sanzu being the bigger person than him. the other members of bonten just watches sanzu being nagged by you like a mother a lot of times when his wild ass doesn't do things right and perhaps one of them let a snicker escape.

you grabbed onto his face gently but quickly pushing him onto a chair and he whistles like a tease to your concerned actions and you grumbled under your breath because of your wreck of a husband. you stopped going through the medkit and paused to look at him, he knows you wanted to pop a question so he tilted his head yo let him know what is it.

"um.. are you okay with hello kitty bandaids?" it was reasonable for him to laugh very loudly because you looked so nervous when you couldn't find any normal bandaids and you didn't say anything when you wiped a clean rag over him. well until he stopped laughing.

"i don't want to make you look like a fool infront of the other members, you clown"

"what are you a kid, why do you even have hello kitty bandaids in the first place hm~?" you told him with a smile threatening to grow on your lips that it was ridiculously cute that you had to buy it. don't waste your chance before it's out of stock <33

so he agrees,

one of the many things that his sweet partner can intoduce him is wearing hello kitty bandaids that fits his hair colour

he DOES NOT give two shits if any of bonten were to make fun of him, he doesn't care if he had to be called preschooler or that you were sending him to school but all that matters is to be showy with his glamarous bandaids that he had so he could remember that sweet expression on your face when he decides to wear them

it's completely okay if you called him extra because you know this man has the audacity to ask if you had hello kitty bandages if his arms bled

extra!!:

"sanzu, do you think this is a fashion show" you deadpanned at him when you see him sneaking on bandaids on his face, to what show you? because you know damn we this fool is wasting precious stuff during the time he won't need it.

he slowly starts peeling off another one when you start scolding him, giving empty threats on how you'll wrap him up in bandages to bury him later and the time you turn around again is where he quickly pushed the sticky bandaid on you.

"there, we're matching!" he points at the mirror or better he shifts you towards the mirror by grabbing your waist and loosely hugging it when you look at the glass when both you and sanzu had the cute bandaid on both your noses.

perhaps you shouldn't rub your temples and stress about this a lot because your husband will not take this seriously.

mikey

this was a boss we're talking about so mikey had to intervine because this smart group of asses are actually breaking into bonten's bank, carefully taken care by the haitani brothers

the boss got held at gun point before the last few seconds of his breath to get him to spill but mikey got impatient and accidently killed him too soon

mikey gripped the gun in frustration that his fingers could form a bruise with how hard he's holding it, an unfortunate turn of events had happened when the windows in all the rooms got smashed in by the other members of the sleaze he killed and managed to land a kick on his head

sanzu dealt with the problem quickly, blocking mikey from the enemies slinging the katana he had lazily on his side with a crazed glint in his eyes threatening the other members from getting way too close

the kick was unnessarily strong for no reason that mikey wobbled to his knees to the sheer impact the feet of the slain man (sanzu specially killed) could effect him so much

kakucho swiftly lead mikey out of the room whilst shooting down any person running in

mikey settled in your shared bedroom as he informed sanzu and kakucho to put him in the room whenever anything serious occured because he atleast wanted to see his beloved when he wakes up

the soft plush pilliows greeted his head as his half unconscious form laid on the bed before his eyes gave up and met darkness (like his impulses‼��‼️)

the taps of a wet cloth made him jolt out of his slumber and you panicked, telling him it's just you and you were just taking care of him while he's asleep. his head hurted when he shifted to look at you and you gently told him to rest when he feels bandages wrapped around his head.

he sensed your worry when your lips trembled on the face of his skin when you pecked kisses all over him and he couldn't help pulling you over into a hug which you squeled when you stumbled out of your chair.

"sleep with me love" he kissed you back on all the places you touched him with your lips to calm down the hurting beats of your heart when you see him writhing from the danger he put himself in, you held his face which he tiredly nodded to your thoughts which were all concerned for him.

you're worried if the head injury's bad, nah don't he shakes his head if you ever think that, he just needs to bask in the comfort of his love.

hours passed as mikey fell asleep in your arms, relaxed by your side when he wakes up but eventually he had to talk to the other bonten members for them to fill him in on any news

he reluctantly gets up because he wanted to still admire your sleeping face, the serene peace you were in as your chest slowly bumps on his arm when you breathe in and out when he shifts away made him feel bad but he had no choice

this was sonething he worried about and he didn't want to happen but he felt your fingertips on his back when you reached for him to stay

"mm.. mikey, your face.."

he touches his face feeling baindaids on it and he got on his knees to stare at your lips and to hear what you wanted to say

"um.. we ran out of actual bandaids from the last time you got hurt but i found my rabbit bandaids but i don't know if you want to go out to the others like.."

you stopped rambling when he puts his head down to laugh quietly to how worried you got, he shushed you to not get so concerned and he looks in the mirror to see the bandaids plastered on his cheek. he waved at you before going and shut the door noiselessly.

there's no need to be scared of his public image or whatever, mikey nonchalantly wore it around the members, he didn't mind if they let out an amused sound of them when the feared leader of bonten walks around with cute rabbits plastered on his face.

even he couldn't keep a grin from slipping out.

kakucho

they had divisions and they were given to kakucho and sanzu, mikey's trusted men

they supervised their own divisions and trained them with the basics they need to know in bonten, also giving the excuse to watch out for any spies or 'traitors'

with that the two had the time of their lives.. minus kakucho, sanzu was going crazy on his men and if you glanced quickly, you wouldn't notice how hard sanzu was on his men

there were times that sanzu might've just played all of them and kick their teeth out instead of doing warmups with them but kakucho's a lot more responsible while sanzu was respected in fear, everyone respected kakucho because of his strength and level headed behaviour

the division each took turn with kakucho, sparring with one another eventhough it might've taken a whole day because he wanted to see how capable they are without dreading that their lives would be in danger if he took his eyes off one of his men

let's just say some of them were really aggresive

while kakucho would applaud them for this to be absolute beasts in beating the hell of out of him in the session, he still tasted spite from getting pushed back and forth but he kept cool and thought this as a process for his patience

by the end of the day, everything's dismissed and sanzu would look at him with a toothy smirk because of how much damage he endured

sanzu calls kakucho reckless as he spits at him to clamp his mouth shut before a gun goes in it as bruises and scratches were on his face, the same with sanzu who liked the pain and took a while to patch up

kakucho looks in the mirror to see how bad it is and to how bad he flinched, he gets twitchy

he thought of you, he didn't want to hurt your feelings and see you glare at him in sadness on how rough things were at the headquarters when he trained so he tried his best to get rid off any visible marks on his face

it was time for him to go back so he bowed to mikey, a sign for him to leave and trudged home to see you again

it was at dead of night, clock nearing 1am when he greets the safe home an "i'm home" and he hears the television on, he slowly walks into the living room and placed a hand on the couch to pull himself to it to see you wrapped up like a burrito and snoring a little.

he smiled to himself, his lover leaving the movie they loved playing and accidently falling asleep which made him frown a bit when he realizes that you were probably waiting for him to reach.

he patted your shoulder and whisperes that he's home and asked for you to hold on when he carried you in his arms and hugged you tighter when you were all warm but your hands cold when he felt it sting against the back of his neck. he planted you on the cold sheets of the bed which you stretched like a cat to look up at him and he hisses at you not to get up so quickly when you held his face.

you smashed your lips on him which he didn't expect and he felt himself heating up to how straightforward you are, you missed him so much although it's been a day. you cursed at him for being an idiot for hurting himself all over and rested your forehead on his and he feebly says his apologies.

"but you're my idiot, c'mere" his ears red when you got off the bed to open up a medkit and he tells to stop and you were not having it and you grabbed his chin for him to look at you while he squirms a little when you also have to observe his face to look at his state.

you dragged to the shower and though he hates how troubled you were when he's hurt, he finds it endearing when you start bossing him around. he really needed someone to pull him out of his roughed up state with a little scolding.

also a bonus that he's also a simp for you so it's two good things in one to obey.

extra!!:

after the warm shower and the scrubs you did to each other, he felt relaxed while you threw yourself on the bed in sleepiness but you had to deal with some things first.

you straddled his lap while applying the bandaids on his face and he squints and looks closely at it, they were small [animal/s] dancing around on the bandaid and he left out a soft chuckle that made your heart leap.

"these [animal/s] are like you" you lift an eyebrow while pressing it down on his jaw and he explained on how you were the bigger person than anyone and 'ferocious' you were but he knew that you cared deeply about the people you love.

you lightly smacked on his cheek which made him yelp, if that wasn't the cheesiest bullshit he spewed then you didn't know anymore, kakucho has his face recognized as the respectable bonten 3 but he still had the heart of a boy holding his gifted new puppy.

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iwritetopassthetime · 3 years

Text

of vipers and doves II (2/11)

Oberyn Martell x female!reader

CHAPTER ONE: The Dragon in the Viper’s nest // Previous chapter // Masterlist // Next chapter

Wordcount: 8K (Mama used some big words)

warnings: SMUT 18+ (minors, don’t let the door hit you on the way out); mentions of violence and warfare (I’m basically rewriting the last two seasons of GoT); angst; body-image issues/insecurities; reader is still a badass and oberyn is a simp; oral sex (f receiving); body worship; Oberyn “Consent is Key” Martell needs his own warning because my ovaries explode every time I think about it; mentions of food

There had never been a day this quiet and tense in Sunspear since the funeral procession for Princess Elia and her children, Rhaenys and Aegon. But while on that day — some twenty years ago — the feelings of grief and anger were domineering over any other, today the citizens of the Dornish capital were on the edge of the proverbial seat as a creature of legend cast a large shadow over their lives like a great mountain of doom.

The dragon seemed calm, only snapping its monstrous jaws at seagulls that quite bravely swooped around his head. From time to time, the dragon would crawl to the bottom of the rock he was perched on, and submerge his enormous head in the water, catching whatever sea creatures were unfortunate enough to swim by. Thankfully, he must’ve been told not to eat any living thing inside the city.

The Old Palace was silent, but on the inside a gaggle of council members were following Prince Oberyn as he made his way to his bedchambers. They were giving him advice, pleading with him to either negotiate with the Dragon Queen or turn her away. Oberyn was frankly annoyed at their bickering and screeching.

‘My wife and I will speak to Daenerys Stormborn and hear what she has to say.’ He bellowed over their voices and the council members quieted down. ‘For now we can’t see her actions as nothing more than an inflated bravado that is typical for a Targaryen. Put your trust in me as my brother’s representative.’

‘With all due respect, my prince,’ Lady Tehmina of House Allyrion interjected, ‘but you’re not known for your patience and cool-headedness.’

Oberyn mulled over her words for no more than a second, finding them too true for him to argue with her about it. ‘Trust my wife to keep me in check as we both act as Doran’s representatives.’

That seemed to do it.

‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to check up on my children.’ Oberyn did not wait for the Council to disperse before he opened the doors to his bedchambers and immediately shut them behind him.

Jenne was unpacking their trunks in the further right part of the room when the Prince stepped through the door. She gave him a worried glance, but held back any questions and gave a quick curtsy instead.

‘Jenne, where is my wife?’ Oberyn asked. Jenne just tilted her head towards the balcony and went back to hanging up clothes in the built-in wardrobe.

‘My love?’ Oberyn followed Y/N’s voice onto the balcony where she watched the Dragon Queen’s party move through the city as the dragon — one of her three infamous “children” — watched the city like a hawk.

Ellarion hiccuped in Y/N’s hold as he suckled on her breast and she rocked him gently to quell whatever troubled his little head. Salvador was standing against the banister, holding his mother’s free right hand and poking his head out between the gaps in the stone balustrade.

‘Papa, it’s a dragon!’ He said as his father picked him up. To the young boy it seemed like his father wanted him to see better, but Oberyn only wanted to hold his child close and be sure that he was safe. At least his youngest four daughters were in Hellholt with Ellaria and her family, and the Sand Snakes were somewhere around Yronwood on a visit to their cousin Quentyn. What he needed to put his mind on now was his wife, two youngest children and the Targaryen who walked through the gates of the Old Palace, accompanied by another young-ish looking woman, ten Unsullied guards and another ten Dornish ones who made sure that nothing would go amiss.

‘What did the council say?’ Y/N asked tentatively.

‘We must keep a cool head and see what Daenerys wants,’ Oberyn supplied.

Y/N huffed out gently in something resembling a laugh, but she was much to tense for it to be genuine. ‘You are not known for your calmness, my love.’

‘Is what Lady Tehmina said, too.’ Oberyn looked down at his wife, noticing the crease forming between her eyebrows. ‘Calm yourself, dove. Let’s put the children down and head to the sitting room.’

‘But! But! I want to look at the dragon!’ Salvador protested.

‘I know, Salva. You can look at the dragon later, but now you must have lunch.’ Oberyn explained and that seemed to do the trick, although Salvador still looked very sad to be taken away from his perfect view of the mythical creature.

Once inside, Jenne swooped in to help take Ellarion out of Y/N’s arms as she fixed the top of her dress. ‘Come, Salvador. Let’s put your brother down to sleep and we’ll go to the kitchens to get you a snack.’ Salvador didn’t need any more convincing as he followed Jenne to his and Ellarion’s nursery across the corridor.

Oberyn took Y/N’s hand in his and pressed a tender kiss to her knuckles and a second one to her forehead. ‘They will be alright with Jenne. Come now, my dove.’

The Old Palace’s sitting room was much too grand for its modest name. The impressive chamber was made of a wide red-tiled floor and white stone walls and columns that stretched at least two stories high towards the grandiose gilded dome that captured the eye of anyone who entered. Five tall arches opened to a wide balcony which faced the Sunspearian sept and the richer parts of the city. The sitting room was made to strike awe in the heart every new arrival and was the perfect place for receiving foreign visitors.

Oberyn and Y/N took a seat on the long divan with their backs to the windows and awaited the arrival of the Dragon Queen. Oberyn lounged back against the cushions on his wife’s right side, giving himself an air of carelessness even though every minute move of his body was meticulously calculated, and asked one of the servants to bring wine.

Y/N, however, could not boast with a calm state of mind at that moment. Her back was rigid as she sat like a statue outside of a crypt. Oberyn slowly reached out and took her hand in his once more, squeezing it gently as to show his wife that he was there if she needed him.

‘She’s taking her sweet time, isn’t she.’ Y/N said through gritted teeth and Oberyn chuckled. He sat up and kissed her shoulder, taking a whiff of her calming perfume. She seemed to deflate at his ministrations and turned her face towards him. She captured his lips in hers. For a moment that’s all she needed; no calming salve or liquor could compare to the mind-numbing effects that Oberyn’s lips had on her. With a kiss all her worries were out of the window, never to be seen.

‘I think…’ Oberyn mused, ‘Daenerys Targaryen should worry about you. My viperess.’

‘What happened with “dove”?’

‘Oh, we both know you aren’t always a gentle dove,’ he replied honestly. ‘Now, relax. It’s my job to be hotheaded, remember?’

‘I don’t understand how calm you are. The only other family that I know you to distaste more than the Lannisters, is the Targaryens.’

‘True.’ Oberyn mindlessly twirled a strand of Y/N’s hair between his fingers, then leaned in and pressed his lips to the shell of her ear. ‘That is why I need you to stay calm. I cannot say what will my impulses lead to once those doors open and Rhaegar’s sister walks through. I need you to be my anchor, something to remind me that I have everything to lose should I lose my temper.’

Y/N took his face in her hands, her eyebrows knitting and face full of emotion. ‘You’re not going to lose me.’

Before Oberyn could reply with anything, the large doors to the sitting room opened and a Palace guard walked through.

‘Your Highnesses—’

‘Let her in,’ Oberyn ordered without breaking Y/N’s gaze. She smiled at him, mouthing “I love you” which he reciprocated and then leaned back against the cushions, his features hardening. Y/N looked towards the opened doorway.

Daenerys Targaryen walked in first, long white hair styled in intricate braids that circled around her head like vines in the crown of a tree. She wore a long ivory dress which looked as if it was one long shawl that crossed over her chest, was tied at her waist and then flowed down to the floor. It was certainly not what she wore to ride a dragon and was most likely what she changed into to fit the Dornish climate. Or to make her look more alluring. Y/N felt the sharp sting of insecurity flow into her bloodstream at the thought; Daenerys was a very beautiful woman and knew it.

Behind her came a second woman, her advisor probably. Her complexion was much darker than Daenerys’ snow white one. Her features were softer, yet still incredibly beautiful. She looked like a person who would never raise their voice, not even if the situation required it.

Y/N placed her hand on Oberyn’s knee as Daenerys took a seat at the divan across from them. The servant with the wine came back, handing Oberyn his goblet and then offered Daenerys one as well which she declined with a simple shake of the head. Her eyes were trained on Oberyn, not so much on Y/N. Which felt purposeful. And quite hurtful.

‘Your Highness, may I present,’ the advisor began, ‘Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains.’

Oberyn sat up, his chin lifting just a little bit in an outright insolent manner. ‘Do you have scribes to write these down for us? Because this is one very… very long name.’

Daenerys’s mouth quirked in something resembling a smile. Y/N was not happy at the way she was eyeing up her husband. Her hand on Oberyn’s knee involuntarily twitched.

‘Khaleesi? Iksin bona iā ánghowa?’ The advisor inquired in Valyrian. Was that an insult?

Y/N knew that the Targaryen heiress grew up in Pentos, but they spoke Common there. Valyrian was used in very few places as the official language nowadays. So the usage of the foreign tongue was clearly a way to conceal their private conversations in company.

Daenerys tilted her head towards the other woman, still refusing to drop eye contact with Oberyn, and spoke with a cheeky lilt in her voice. ‘Issa sȳz, Missandei—’ It’s alright, Missandei ‘—Yn issa drējī hae gevie hae vestrasis, daor?’

Oberyn softly scoffed to himself. The advisor looked as if she tried to contain a bemused grin at the comment. Y/N’s heart beat wildly in anger as her mind supplied the translation to the words. But he is truly handsome as they say, isn’t he?

‘Issa valzȳrys emagon targārien ānogar .’ Y/N hissed, her voice cutting like a whip. My husband has Targaryen blood. ‘Ñuha muña māstan hen iā braavosi eglie lentor. Īlon ȳdragon Valyrīha. Gaomagon daor ánghowa īlva lentor se sylugon naejot ruaragon aōha udra.’ My mother came from a Braavosi high family. We speak Valyrian. Do not insult our home by hiding behind your words, she finished with a pointed look at the Dragon Queen who now had her undivided attention. Frankly, she was surprised that a native Westerosi spoke Valyrian with such ease.

Oberyn smirked proudly, noting the change in the Queen’s demeanour, and sneaked his free arm around Y/N, drawing her closer to his side. ‘Daenerys Stormborn, let me introduce you to Princess Y/N of House Martell, my wife.’

‘My lady.’ Daenerys respectfully bowed her head, now speaking in the common tongue.

‘Your Highness,’ Y/N corrected her. ‘If you will.’

Daenerys’s smile tightened and eyes narrowed. ‘I was expecting a less hostile welcome to the Dornish capital.’

‘You happened to fly a dragon over said capital,’ Oberyn replied. ‘Excuse us, if we’re not showing you the full extent of Dornish hospitality.’

Y/N’s insides quivered with anxiety. She needed to calm herself. She knew she was being irrational by snapping, it was undiplomatic of her, and the Council expected her to be the voice of reason. But Daenerys’s words were eating out at her wounded pride and her already fragile self-esteem.

Her eyes seemed to notice only what Daenerys Targaryen had, and she lacked. Daenerys had a nicely rounded face, plump lips and striking purple eyes; a common feature amongst Targaryens. Her body — much like with any other high born woman — was not thin, showing she never went without a meal for long periods of time, but she wore her curves perfectly. She was captivating. The epitome of beauty, something the Dornish princess hadn’t remotely felt like in some time.

The bitter sting of jealousy coursed through Y/N’s body. She dearly hoped Oberyn wouldn’t notice the Dragon Queen’s fine looks and perfect body, and think Y/N inadequate beside her. She felt water gather behind her eyes. Compose yourself! she chastised her own foolish mind.

‘I apologise for causing a disturbance to the peace in your city.’ Daenerys clasped her hands in her lap. ‘Drogon comes with me wherever I go. He will not harm a soul, I assure you.’

‘May I ask, what the reason for your visit to Dorne is, Your grace?’ Y/N asked, seemingly composed although her heart never ceased its wild tremor.

‘I have come to ask House Martell to join me in the war against House Lannister,’ Daenerys said.

Oberyn’s arm tightened around Y/N as if he was worried that she would fade away if he made the wrong choice. I’m here, I’m going nowhere, she wished she could say to him. She knew he still felt deeply ashamed that he put his thirst for vengeance against the Lannisters before her. He had spent weeks, months, after his return in a battle with his own guilt-ridden conscience. He would wake from nightmares where Y/N would leave and never return. Nightmares where his vengeance hurt her instead, killed her.

So Oberyn took Daenerys’s proposition very seriously and with no small amount of fire in his voice. She was the “Mother of Dragons”, wasn’t she? She could bare getting scorched a little.

‘Last time a Targaryen wanted a Martell’s allegiance in a war, Dorne lost 10,000 soldiers along with my sister and her two children,’ Oberyn stated coldly. ‘Nothing good has ever come from an alliance with your family.’

‘I am not here to answer for the crimes of my father,’ Daenerys replied. ‘Or my brother. His actions towards your sister were dishonourable. But what I offer is… retribution.’

Y/N’s hand on Oberyn’s leg dampened with nerves and anticipation. She took a glance at her husband who was watching Daenerys intently. Vitriol swam in his dark eyes, turning them cold. Y/N squeezed his knee in reassurance. I’m here. Stay calm. I’m here.

‘House Lannister has caused your family pain like many others.’ Daenerys’s bizarre purple eyes slowly moved between the two Martells as if trying to make her meaning clear to both, separately and together. ‘I intend to take King’s Landing with as little force as possible.’

‘Nobody has ever waged a war without spilling blood,’ Y/N said.

‘Nobody has had three fully grown dragons at their back in quite some time, either.’ Daenerys replied, her voice full with motherly pride for her children. ‘I have the trust of House Stark and the Northern lords, House Tyrell, House Greyjoy and House Arryn. Along with eight thousand Unsullied and a Dothraki horde of sixty thousand strong.’

‘House Greyjoy has backed Cersei as far as I know,’ Oberyn corrected. ‘She has acquired some fifty ships from their fleet, if I’m not mistaken.’

‘Yara Greyjoy, the rightful heir to Balon Greyjoy, has a hundred. Along with the ones I purchased in Essos, my fleet has amassed three hundred and fifty ships.’

‘So if you have that strong of an army and a fleet at your back, why do you need Dorne?’ Oberyn asked. ‘The Northerners have never respected us. In their eyes we are… debauched savages.’ The words were spoken with no small amount of indignation. ‘Why should we care what happens beyond our borders?’

‘The Lannisters are a plague on this earth that must be eradicated. If we let it fester, it will spread to Dorne and perhaps even Essos. We need the support of every major House in the Seven Kingdoms. Dorne has never been conquered, not even by a Targaryen. Your skills as warriors are unmatched. With your House’s allegiance, we can overthrow House Lannister for good and end their tyranny.’

‘Bend the knee. Accept me as rightful queen,’ Daenerys continued. ‘And you can be sure that I will help you get justice for your sister and her children.’

A tense moment of silence followed the declaration. A moment that held so much importance that Y/N could feel the pressure of every single second that passed between Daenerys’s words and the impending response from Oberyn. Even the wind that flowed in from the windows seemed to have suspended in mid-air.

After what seemed like an eternity, Oberyn spoke up. ‘I will not give you an immediate answer. This is a matter that I wish to discuss with my wife and council, in private. For now, you may enjoy the hospitality of House Martell. Cletus—’ he addressed the captain of the Old Palace guard who up to this point had stood couple of feet away from the Martell couple, but close enough to defend them if needed ‘—please, escort her grace and her entourage to the guest wing.’

Oberyn put his half-empty goblet on top of the intricately decorated seat cushions of the divan, and stood up with Y/N following suit. Without a word and without looking at her, he offered his arm which she accepted. He would usually take her hand; why wouldn’t he take her hand now?

Y/N’s heart, once again, threatened to beat out of her chest with emotion. Suddenly, her thoughts were invaded by the scathing words of her cousin Danaya. Words she hadn’t thought about for years. You truly believe Oberyn Martell would change his ways? For you? You’re not special, my dear. Would Oberyn be tempted by the irresistible Dragon Queen? Y/N’s eyes were filling with tears again which she hoped nobody would see. Not that anybody was paying her any mind at that moment. Which intensified the feeling of hurt.

‘Thank you very much for receiving me on such short notice, Prince Oberyn.’ Daenerys aimed a very pretty smile in his direction. In her mind, the battle was half won and there was no issue with driving the point across with a bit of flirting. After all, the Red Viper was famous for enjoying multiple partners and Daenerys would be a liar if she said that the possibility of sharing the bed of such a handsome man wasn’t an exciting one. ‘I hope to see you soon and know your answer.’

Oberyn bowed his head respectfully and led Y/N out of the room. He muttered, ‘I need to see the Council.’

‘Of course,’ Y/N mumbled, dropping his arm once they were away from the sitting room. A place that was made to empower her as a Princess of Dorne made her feel so insignificant. The only thing she wanted now was to hole up in her bedchamber and let out the pent-up emotions that came in the form of fat tear droplets that were beginning to gather in the corners of her eyes. ‘I will let you go about your business, my prince.’

What he’ll do is put a baby in you like he’s supposed to and then be back to fucking anything else that passes before his eyes.

But Oberyn wasn’t like that! He loved her, he was devoted to her! They had two children together and he’d never changed his mind about his vow to her. He wouldn’t leave her. But Danaya’s words came rushing back like water from a trapped faucet, tempting the voice of self-doubt to speak up. Words that tormented her to an extreme and caused more hot, embarrassed tears to trickle down her cheeks. Gods, she was a fool!

Oberyn was worried when Y/N didn’t look up or say anything else as they parted in the corridor. Normally, when they would go about their business separately, she would leave him with a kiss on the lips and the promise of seeing him soon. Little moments of affection that made whatever dull meeting or rigorous training session he had waiting pass swifter because he could anticipate being back in her loving embrace afterwards.

This time, however, her eyes were cast downwards and she walked ahead with a hurried step. Oberyn was rooted in his spot, watching her hunched shoulders disappear behind the next turn of the corridor. His mind was trying to grasp at straws to comprehend what had happened. Was his beloved upset and if she was why hand’t he caught on?

‘Prince Oberyn?’ One of the Palace guards came up behind him. ‘The Council is expecting you.’

‘How would a husband go about finding if his wife is upset?’ He asked.

The guard — although surprised at the bizarre question coming from his prince — replied, ‘Oh, one can never be quite sure, I suppose. Asking is a good place to start. If the princess is upset, it is most likely worries about the safety of the two princes. Everybody in the Palace knows how devoted she is to them.’

Oberyn sighed; he sincerely hoped that was the issue and not something else. Otherwise he would’ve been a complete fool for not noticing sooner. He was going to find out what had upset his beloved so and gather her up in his arms to soothe any worry that hung over her head. Hopefully whatever it was, it could wait while he went over Daenerys’s proposition with the members of the Council.

Y/N felt stupid. There was no other word to describe her the way she felt about herself. Stupid. Foolish. Absolutely ridiculous to be crying over such inconsequential matters.

But she was. Her chest hurt and the skin on her face felt tight as her tears dried up. She probably looked like a right mess — all snotty and dishevelled after crying all the way to her and Oberyn’s room.

She stopped at the large wooden doors that led to the bedchamber, hearing Jenne and Salvador’s voices on the other side. She knew there was no way to avoid a questioning from her maid once she noticed her reddened eyes and downhearted expression. She resolved herself to just walk in, put a smile on for the sake of her children and talk to Jenne to the side if need be. But right now, all she wanted to do was some quiet time with her two treasures.

Y/N pushed the door open, smiling genuinely once she saw the endearing sight: Salvador was sat on the floor, holding a picture book open and babbling about animals, while Jenne sat next to him with Ellarion on her lap. The baby looked at his older brother with wide, curious eyes. He would let out a gurgle at whatever Salvador was saying which would prompt the latter to giggle wildly.

Most of the worries that wighted on Y/N’s heart were instantly lifted and she walked towards the trio. Kneeling down and pulling Salvador into her lap.

‘Hi, Mama!’ Salvador looked up form his book. Y/N smiled down at him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. The little boy snuggled up to his mother and continued with his story about the horses that his Papa took him to see in the stables.

‘Is everything alright?’ Jenne asked quietly. Y/N looked up at her, noticing the worry in her honey-coloured eyes. She could tell Jenne everything, she knew that. There was a special kind of trust between a lady and her maid. The two had shared many things, happy and sad and everything in between. But at that moment, Y/N believed that her emotions would only trouble whoever was at the receiving end of her trying to put them into words. So she kept all that inside, hoping that it would just stop hurting and go away.

‘It’s nothing for you to be worried about. It must be exhaustion.’ Which wasn’t a lie, the sun was going down and she had been up since early morning. Thankfully, Jenne took pity on her and did not inquire further.

‘How did the meeting go?’ She asked instead.

Y/N gulped. She was instantly reminded of the way Daenerys spoke to Oberyn, the way she practically undressed him with her eyes. Like Y/N wasn’t even there, like she didn’t matter. Like the fact that she was the wife of the man she was ogling was simply a triviality.

‘It was fine. Despite first impressions, Daenerys Stormborn isn’t here to hurt anybody.’

‘Would it be prudent to share that information with my family?’ Jenne asked, casting a knowing smile to her mistress. Her words held a simple implication; her mother had an appetite for gossip. Not just the mundane things, but if one needed to pass out important information quickly the best course of action was to tell Jenne’s mother.

Y/N nodded, feeling some weight lift from her shoulders. She knew that they still needed to make a formal declaration to their people, let them know that all is well, but for now getting Jenne’s mother to spread the news would be the quickest and painless way to do it. ‘I believe it would be good to let them know you’re safe.’

‘Perfect!’ Jenne replied, bouncing Ellarion on her lap when he hiccuped.

‘Mama?’ Salvador tilted his head up to look at his mother once the book lost it’s appeal to him. ‘I wanna go see the dragon!’

‘The dragon? Aren’t you scared, my snakelet?’

‘I’m not!’ Salvador declared, jumping up from his mother’s lap. ‘I will climb on the dragon and fly in the sky!’

Y/N pretended to gasp in shock, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead in a dramatic fashion. ‘Oh, how that would scare your poor mother!’

‘Don’t be scared, Mama!’ Salvador walked up to Y/N and placed his tiny hands on her cheeks. ‘I will protect you.’

‘Will you, my darling?’

‘Yes, I am brave like Papa!’

‘That you are, my son!’ Nobody had heard or notice when exactly Oberyn had entered the chamber. He closed the door behind him and knelt down to welcome the incoming running toddler. He lifted him from the ground with ease and balanced him on his hip.

‘Papa, I want to see the dragon! Ple-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-ease!’ Salvador pleaded with his dad, practically vibrating with joy. It would prove difficult to put him to bed with all these external excitants now.

Oberyn grinned at his son, but his smile faltered once he looked up to see his wife’s face but was instead met with the back of her head. Something was surely wrong and Oberyn needed to get to the bottom of it. But for that purpose, they needed to be alone.

‘I promise we will see the dragon tomorrow,’ Oberyn told his son, ‘but now I believe, bed awaits you.’

Salvador seemed reluctant. ‘I am not sleepy.’

‘You say that now, but I know you’ll be fighting to keep your eyes open in a minute.’ Oberyn lovingly poked his son in the belly, making him giggle.

‘Okay, Papa.’ Salvador agreed and Oberyn kissed his cheek, before placing him back down on the floor. Jenne came around with Ellarion in her arms and reached an arm out for Salvador to take. But before taking it, a realisation seemed to dawn on Salvador. He ran over to his mother, straight into her arms and mumbling “good night” against her shoulder.

‘Come, Salvador.’ Jenne called the boy back. ‘We should let Mama and Papa to rest. And we also need to get you in your night clothes.’

Oberyn was thankful for Jenne’s ability to read the room. He was sure that had she been born into a noble family, she would’ve been a masterful diplomat. And despite his adoration for all his children, he needed his two youngest out of the room so he could look after his wife.

The sound of the door closing echoed across the quiet room. Y/N had gotten up from the floor and had walked over to the built-in wardrobe in the furthest part of the room, and to all appearances she was simply looking through the clothes inside for something to wear to bed. On any other normal day, Oberyn would’ve suggested that she wear nothing and that would be it. But today, something was different.

The air between them was tense and Oberyn couldn’t deduce where the root of the issue was. So he was going to do what was best — talk to his wife and get to the bottom of it. Hopefully, whatever it was would be within his powers to mend.

‘My dove?’ Oberyn asked quietly. He drew closer to her, slowly and patiently. He observed the movements of her body to gouge some reaction form her. With shoulders hunched and the persistent refusal of meeting his eye, Oberyn made the decision to gently place his hands on her shoulders and turn her around.

Y/N teared up once more when she felt his soft touch on her skin. The place where his hands slowly enveloped her shoulders tingled. His warm touch felt grounding, soothing.

She finally dared to look at him, get this done and over with, see if he still wants her and Oberyn felt his heartbeat stutter in his chest.

He hated seeing her cry. Even during her monthly courses, or when she was pregnant, when tears were expected and quite normal, he still felt tormented by the water gathering against her lashes and slowly dripping down her face.

Y/N misinterpreted his reaction, his furrowed brows and alarmed gaze, to mean that he was upset with her. You’re not special, Danaya’s voice taunted her. She was nothing special, but she had upset him. And she lowered her face, looking at her bare toes that poked from underneath the hem of her dress.

Oberyn placed two fingers on the underside of her chin and lifted her head. ‘What has upset you, my love.’

My love. Y/N hiccuped as the tears intensified.

‘I’m sorry— it-it is nothing!’ She assured him, but her words held no conviction. ‘I will calm down in a moment, I-I am just being silly.’

Oberyn’s hands took ahold of her face. He could not let her look away.

‘My love, if it causes you so much distress—’ he spoke softly to her, he didn’t seem angry ‘—then it worries me. Please… I want to help you.’

Y/N stared into Oberyn’s eyes. He seemed truly in distress. She took a deep breath.

‘I was… I was upset by the way she behaved.’ She explained plainly. ‘I didn’t like the way she seemed to be trying to… entice you.’

‘Entice me? She—’ Oberyn was taken aback, but something clicked and a smirk broke out on his face. ‘You were jealous, my dove?’

Y/N scoffed and pushed past him, walking back towards the bed. ‘Forget it. I told you, I’m being silly.’

‘Being jealous is nothing to be ashamed of,’ Oberyn explained. It actually made him feel flattered that his wife was so protective of him, so possessive. It was oddly arousing. ‘You have nothing to worry about. She does not hold a candle to you.’

A violent, loud sob broke out from the confinement of Y/N’s chest. Oberyn immediately sensed he’d said the wrong thing. His beloved was crying, hugging her arms around her in a display that could only show how much she wanted to sink into the floor and disappear from view.

He went up to her and she let him. He wrapped his arms around her and she let him. She practically slumped against his chest, but Oberyn held her steady. He pressed kisses to the crown of her head, letting her cry out her woes and decide when she wanted to open up. He was there to hold her and wordlessly assure her that he’d listen.

’S-she’s beautiful,’ Y/N hiccuped against his chest.

Oberyn scoffed lightly, ‘She’s much too pale for my liking.’

‘But she’s beautiful. You cannot deny that. And I-I… Gods, I can’t compare to her!’

‘My dove, what are you talking about? You are magnificent.’

Y/N looked up at him. ‘I do not feel that way. I feel… I feel like a seashell that’s been pushed around by the waves too many times and has lost its lacklustre.’ She sniffed. ‘Ever since Ellarion’s birth, I have felt like an impostor in my own skin. I am too large in places where I wasn’t, and too soft in places where I was fit. And I—’ she sobbed at the incoming train of thought ‘—I am s-scared that you will wake up one day a-and see that, too. That you are going to lose all interest in me and I will become nothing to you.’

Oberyn’s heart broke in two at her revelation, his chest hurting as if someone had stabbed him and twisted the blade. His wife — his love — believed that he would lose his interest in her. His own eyes started to feel heavy with tears and he held her close. He felt ashamed of himself for failing to notice that his wife was in emotional torment. All of a sudden, it all seemed to click. The way she would wave off any compliments he sent her way, the way she seemed less sure of wearing the revealing dresses she once favoured.

‘Y/N, look at me.’ Oberyn placed his palm on her cheek, brushing the tears away with the pad of his thumb. ‘I am sorry I did not notice this before. I am ashamed that I did not pay enough attention and my lack of attention allowed these thoughts fester in that beautiful head of yours.’ He kissed her forehead. ‘I should’ve spent every breath in my chest to tell you how beautiful you are, because it is the simple truth. I think about it every day, every moment when we are apart. You are beautiful, my love. Exquisite. Bewitching. Divine.’

‘There is no another woman, no other person—’ he kissed her brow, ‘—who could ever hold your place in my heart—’ he kissed the tip of her nose, ‘— no queen, no highborn lady, no man or woman from here until the edge of this earth—’ he kissed her right cheek, then the left, the let his lips hover over hers for a second.

‘You are my wife, my love, my world entire. And if you ever doubt yourself, then place your hand over my heart.’ Oberyn took one of Y/N’s hands and brought it up to his chest, right above where his heart beat wildly with emotion. ‘This heart beats for you. Whenever I see you, or even think of you, my heart races like a wild horse.’

Y/N’s eyes glimmered with a new wave of tears. These, however, were brought upon by something good. Oberyn guided her back until the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed and she had to sit down. He then slowly sank to his knees before her, moving her hand from his heart to his cheek, keeping it there for the moment.

‘What are you doing?’ Y/N rasped in question.

‘I’m bending the knee,’ Oberyn replied simply.

Y/N scoffed, ‘Do not jest. You can only bend the knee to—’

‘To a king, or queen. In demonstration of fealty.’

‘Oberyn, I am no queen.’

‘You are my queen,’ he swore. ‘You are every bit a queen, and even more so. You care for our people, you care for our family. You are just and you are grace incarnate.’

‘I would bend the knee to you a thousand times, before thinking of doing it for Daenerys Targaryen.’ He continued with his vow as Y/N watched on in reverence. ‘She is not my queen, I have made no vows to her. Nor will I ever do so. The decision to join her war must be made by the whole Martell family, but allegiance to her will only go as far as me pledging my spear to her cause. My life, honour and duty are yours, my beloved.’

‘Oh, Oberyn!’ Y/N sobbed quietly and surged forward to claim his lips in hers.

All sensations were as if multiplied by a thousand in this beautiful moment; the gentle scratch of Oberyn’s moustache against Y/N’s upper lip, his hand against her cheek and the other on her hip, the low grunt that reverberated from his throat and was promptly swallowed into Y/N’s desperate kiss.

‘Please, my love,’ Oberyn whimpered against her mouth, ‘let me worship you tonight. Let me show you just how much I crave you. Queen of my heart. Mother of my children. Goddess divine.’

Y/N gasped as Oberyn lowered her back onto the bedsheets while she pulled him on top of her. The position wasn’t the most comfortable since their legs were hanging off the edge of the mattress, but they couldn’t care less. ‘Yes! Oberyn, please!’

‘Will you let me see you, my dove?’ Oberyn gently pawed at her dress, but patiently waited for her permission before going forward. ‘I wish to gaze upon you, all of you.’

Y/N nodded, her voice caught in her throat with emotion and arousal. But she knew she needed to give her husband a vocal response, otherwise he would not go any further. It was an unspoken rule between the two of them, and one that was so untraditional for the rest of Westeros: unless both of them were in complete agreement to go forward with their lovemaking, fucking or otherwise, they would cease all activity. Oberyn said once that sex was about the participants enjoying themselves fully and he could never enjoy forcing his wife to do something she didn’t want to do. Y/N shared his sentiment.

In that moment, despite being very emotional and having just opened the window for Oberyn to gaze into her insecurities, Y/N wanted him. She wanted the closeness his naked skin on hers afforded her. She wanted his lips, his hips, his cock everywhere. She craved him just as much as he did her.

‘Yes, Oberyn! Please! Please, I want you!’ She babbled, desperate for his love and attention. Oberyn pushed himself up on his knees and helped her lie back against the pillows at the head of their bed. He knelt between her open legs, opening the flaps of her skirt and caressing her bare legs.

‘These I love, because they carry you from the greatest distance straight to my arms,’ he whispered, lowering down to press an open-mouthed kiss against her calf. He pressed another kiss to her knee and then repeated the action to the other leg.

Y/N’s heart was fluttering with excitement.

Oberyn lowered himself onto his belly and licked a long stripe on the inside of her thigh, lifting the skirt of her dress further and further up. Until he reached his destination. A smirk pulled against his lips.

‘This—’ his fingers slipped between Y/N’s folds and she moaned loudly at the feeling. ‘—is one of my favourite parts of your body. It brought our children into the world.’ The combination of high emotions and stimulation from his fingers felt exhilarating. Oberyn opened her up like opening the petals of a rose for his tongue to delve in and gently lick at her sensitive clit. His arms came underneath her things and held them in a tight hold, keeping her pulsating cunt against his face.

Y/N couldn’t think, couldn’t coherently speak in that moment. Her hands were buried in the curls of Oberyn’s hair, pulling at them, yanking at them whenever he sucked at her bundle of nerves. His tongue was lapping at her folds, her clit and her entrance. Y/N’s head was pushed against the pillows underneath, her mouth hanging open in a soundless moan.

‘The most beautiful—’ he growled between loud, lewd slurps of her ‘—fucking cunt—’ he was eating her out like a man starved ‘—in the known world.’

‘O-Oberyn!’ Y/N gasped, feeling herself near that blissful edge. The pleasure was pulsating, drawing her closer, and back, and closer, and back.

Until the coil stopped and much like powerful wave, crashing against a rock on the shore, she wailed in ecstasy. She drenched Oberyn’s mouth and chin in her juices, but he wasted no time before dutifully cleaning her up. Lights exploded behind her eyes and the evening was illuminated by intense pleasure.

Y/N’s entire body shook like a leaf and she struggled to catch her breath. She sobbed with relief, and pleasure, and adoration. Oberyn peppered her upper thighs with kisses before drawing up and removing his jacket and shirt, dropping them on the floor.

‘Are you well, my dove?’ He asked tenderly, eyebrows furrowed in concert at the sight of more tears in her eyes. Y/N didn’t know she had it in her to cry even more, but the water dripping onto her cheeks could not be mistaken. She wasn’t sad. She was overjoyed and she wanted to hold her husband close.

‘I love you s-so m-much,’ she stuttered as her body continued shaking.

‘I love you too,’ Oberyn wrapped her up in his arms, laying his face against her neck. ‘I love you with all that I am and all that I will be.’

They stayed like that for a few moments of quietude while Y/N’s body settled. She had wrapped her legs around his waist, keeping him as close as possible and Oberyn wouldn’t object. He was whispering sweet nothings to her, slowly kissing her throat and climbing his way up to her lips.

Oberyn hummed against Y/N’s mouth and pulled away to look at her. He brushed the stray hairs away form her face and smiled down at her.

‘My beautiful wife,’ he whispered in reverence. ‘I will not cease to remind you of that. Of how beautiful you are to me. My dove,’ he smiled and kissed her lips, slowly and with every bit of passion in his body.

‘Now, before I get back to pleasuring you to both our hearts’ content, I want you to drink and eat,’ he said, sitting up, and pulled Y/N with him. She settled in his lap, with her arms tightly woven around his neck. ‘You must be all dried up from shedding tears and I want you to have plenty of water now. Is that alright?’

‘Yes, my love.’ Y/N felt her lips pull in a genuine smile. Gods, how she loved that man! ‘I’m sorry I worried you.’

‘Don’t apologise, dove. It is I who should feel guilty for not noticing sooner that you weren’t feeling well in your mind. Now, we must put some nourishments in you.’

Y/N giggled, laying back down. Oberyn jumped from the bed, groaning at the cracks in his back which made his wife laugh. He went to their little round table by the balcony doors where the servants always left an array of cheeses, bread, berries, grapes, wine and a pitcher of water. Oberyn grabbed the pitcher and two goblets in one hand, he placed the wooden plate of cheeses on top of the bowl of berries and carried all that effortlessly in his hands over to the bed.

He placed the items down, arranging them on the edge of the bed. He set the pitcher down on the bedside drawer and filled the two goblets, before handing one to Y/N. When the fresh water hit her lips, she realised how parched her mouth and throat felt, and greedily gulped down the whole goblet-full. Happily, Oberyn sat down next to his wife and drank his own water.

He crawled back on the bed and the two switched positions so he was laying down. Before Y/N could lay next to him, Oberyn pulled on top of him, sitting her down on top of his hard (still clothed) cock.

‘Now… before we enjoy these delicacies—’ he smirked as his fingers itched against the strings that held Y/N’s dress together at the waist, ‘—I wish to gaze upon your beautiful body, my love.’

There was a question in his eyes to which Y/N replied by taking his hand and guiding it to the little tie. She smiled and nodded for him to continue, heart going back to its envois rhythm.

Oberyn loosened the strings and the dress sagged against Y/N’s body. He then slid his hands underneath the fabric and pushed it off of her shoulders. He sighed as the entirety of his wife’s body was revealed to his adoring eyes.

He sat up, drawing her in an embrace, and observed every curve, mark and blemish that to his eyes were fascinating.

‘I love these—’ he tenderly rubbed his hands against the soft, supple skin where her upper legs joined her waistline, ‘—especially because of those little lightning-like lines on them. It is as if the gods have blessed you in some way that could only manifest itself in these interesting markings.’

‘I love this—’ his thumbs rubbed against the roundness of her belly, ‘—because you carried our two children in here. To this day, I fail to find the proper words to describe the magnitude of my reverence for you. The way you glowed in your pregnancy, the strength you had when your labour began. You are a stunning woman, my dove!’

Oberyn smiled coyly as he continued on, ‘I particularly love these—’ he pushed his face against her breasts which elicited a laugh from Y/N and she kissed his head, ‘—because they are just… hmm, what would I even liken them to?’

‘Melons?’ Y/N supplied jokingly.

‘Too common. No, yours my darling are simply marvellous.’ Oberyn bit at the skin of her left breast before drawing her nipple into his mouth, gently sucking on it. Y/N’s eyelids fluttered close at the sensation and her head lulled back.

‘And finally—’ he looked up and stared into her eyes, ‘…beautiful. Simply beautiful.’

Y/N’s eyes closed and she pressed her forehead against Oberyn’s for a moment of bliss.

‘I know that a few embellished words won’t fix everything. They won’t instantly make you feel better. But I will make sure that you know the magnitude of my appreciation for every part of your body and soul, beloved.’ Oberyn promised. ‘And even if I don’t say it, you know I have other ways of showing appreciation.’

Y/N smiled, ‘I do.’

‘There is no one else and there never will be. I am yours, and you are mine.’ He repeated the words of their vows and sealed them once more with a kiss. A slow, tender exchange that seemed to span days, weeks, millennia. A simple action that joined their hearts as one. ‘Now, I wish to make love to you until we pass out, but if you are too tired—’

‘Yes, Oberyn!’ Y/N interrupted him with a desperate sigh against his mouth which made Oberyn laugh in earnest as he removed the last piece of clothing on his body and laid his wife back down on their plush mattress, making good on his word.

Next chapter

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Please, do let me know if you like the story! The prologue didn’t get as much attention as I expected, but I hope you’re interested.

(taglist is open)

tags: @wonderlandgabby @klaine-92 @agingerindenial @thesadvampire @gothicxbarbie @paintballkid711 @sarahjkl82-blog @tercabed @ayamenimthiriel @maharani-radha-writes @gingerbreadandpaper @talesfromtheguild @beefcakebarnes @thebatshitcrazyfangirl @eternallyvenus @mrsdaamneron @kat-nee @h1de-s0urce @panagiasikelia @frietiemeloen @luckystrikesalterego @fruit-of-my-hoechloins @bbuckysbeardd @supernaturalgirl20 @stankface @persie33 @fan-of-encouragement @cjbtw @rosewinx @frietiemeloen @captn-andor @emofairyprincessofarkansas @ikinmahlen

#of vipers and doves #iwritetopassthetime #oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn martell x reader #Oberyn Martell #prince oberyn #pedro pascal x reader #Pedro Pascal

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funkymbtifiction · 3 years

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Enneagram Centers

Sometimes if you're not sure of your core type, you need to consider the "centers" in order to figure out where your focus lies. (And... don't allow yourself to tritype yourself until you're 100% positive of your core. It will explain most of your behavior and coping mechanisms, so tritype isn't an excuse to mistype.)

Centers... there are three. Each one makes decisions differently and focuses on different things. Sometimes you can narrow down your type to the center, and from there, decide which of the three fits you best.

Centers: heart, head, gut.

They are exactly the way they sound.

Heart types make decisions from an emotional place, because their focus is on earning love. How are you seeing me? What image am I presenting to you? What do I want you to see? They are all about a conscious crafting of "self" in comparison to others. Others can see them as emotional, as needing approval, or as making decisions based on what others think of them. It's an image center. How do I feel about this? What does it lead me to do? (2 - find love, earn love. 3 - impress to earn approval. 4 - too broken for love, separate, must show my uniqueness to get love.)

Head types make decisions from a rational place, because their focus is on being secure. They think, think, think. Over-think. Analyze. Observe. Gotta think about that. Need time to mull it over. Their energy is all in their head. Nervous energy. Active energy. Thoughts. What I think, not what I feel. Buzzing. Busy mind. Converting everything to thinking about it. Distrusts their emotions. Emotions lead you wrong. Must be rational! (5 - detach, observe, don't participate. 6 - too many thoughts, unsure, find something to trust, hold onto it. 7 - stay busy to avoid anxiety, lots of thoughts, run with them all, don't want to feel stuck.)

Gut types make decisions from an instinctual place, through body energy. How things "hit" me. What I "sense" is right. How the world slams up against me, and the barriers I build against it. Putting up boundaries to protect myself. Are these boundaries stable? Knowing what to do. Or not knowing. I just know. It's an obvious choice. This is where I'm being lead. (1 - set firm boundaries, I know what's right and wrong. 8 - be a wall others slam into, expand to maintain control, things anger me and make me push back. 9 - the world seems to be taking me over, it's easy just to go along with it, pretend to agree and then do my own thing, avoid conflict.)

Another thing, which goes for mistyping in MBTI as well -- lots of people think they are X so they "act like X" -- but acting is pretending; it's not real. A fix or a core or a type is real when there's no acting involved; it's just what you naturally do, the air you breathe. For a 2 fixer, pretending to be separate, and broken, and craft an identity as a 4... that is hard work, tiring. For a 6 to pretend to be a 9, and stay calm, and not be full of thoughts and over-thinking, is impossible. It's draining. People start acting THE BEHAVIOR instead of looking deep into their motivations. "Oh, I will act like a 7!" You can't act like a 7 and be convincing, a 7 generates those behaviors through their thinking process. Identifiable behaviors are the result of mental energy. Heart processes are the result of emotional energy. And gut responses are instinctual, immediate, no thinking necessary, my body is reacting, sometimes before I can even think about it. ("I felt sick through my body before I even knew what was happening...")

Social variants are much the same, in that your dominant trait is where your attention goes immediately when you are asked a question or forced to come up with a conversation on the spot. It's rapid. Your dominant instinct absorbs most of your thoughts and focus and concern, even if you aren't aware of it.

Like the typing video I linked to the other day -- when asked questions, Megan Fox drew attention to sexual topics and encounters, because she views her past in an sx-dom way; she remembers school by the first boy she French kissed. When she wanted to interrupt her interviewer and pull him off a "boring topic," her brain said: admit you have a crush on him in a "there are only three guys I'd do" way. Again, sx. Her photos -- sx displays. Provocative clothing intended to elicit an sx reaction from others.

With variants, give yourself time and space to discover it. Your variant is probably more obvious to other people than yourself, because they see it's where your mind goes. You can't think your way through this, head types ;), you have to get an instinctual sense of things through comparisons. Think about the variants on their own, what they are about, what their focus is on, and then put them into the context of your core type and what that means.

If it's sp, look for sp's in the world around you. What's their focus on? Sp concerns. What does that mean? They focus on... my body, how I feel, what I can do, can my body withstand this? What's this look like? The guy you know who is an exercise master. The person neurotic about their health. The 2 who focuses on "health and home." (What does that look like? Well, he checks my tires, changes the oil, etc, for me without being asked! Mom makes lunches for us all, packs them, has them waiting by the door, and makes sure to take care of us at home!)

Socials? Inspiring others. Being the go-to person. Sharing what they know in a friendly manner. Focus on community, on inspiring, on being socially appropriate, on noticing when others AREN'T playing by the rules. What's that look like in person? The 1 who sets a moral example through their behavior and frowns on misbehavior. The 3 who wants to impress you with their inspirational journey. (Not their stuff, stuff is sp. Admire my new car? Sp 3!) The 5 who loves to share their expertise about ancient Egypt (their one thing). The likable 2 who runs a YouTube channel about "how to..."

Sexuals? Focus on sex. Heat. Attraction. Scent. Impact. Provocation. Am I turning you on or off? I want to find out, that's why I do it. People are either drawn to me or hate me. That's fine. Attracting them all isn't interesting to me. What's that look like in number terms? The sexy 2 who only "helps" their special person. The 6 who is protective of their mate, while also being anxious and suspicious and fearful of being left OR who goes to an extreme to become attractive in an expected way (the hot girl next door, the man who can protect you, the sensitive man, the tough girl). The 9 who molds themselves into another person and disappears into them (Bella).

It's an area of over-focus, neuroticism, a need you have to fill, whereas your second fix isn't that important. It's how you play, dabble, the stakes aren't as high, and your focus doesn't always go there first. I want this, don't always chase it. (Sx? Intense heat comes after social awareness or self-protection. Soc? Socially aware, but being an influencer comes after sx drive or "my health and home." Sp? Survival comes after public influence or awareness or sx pursuits.)

Being "blind" means... I rarely focus on this. It's not on my radar. Sp blind? Safety?? Survival? Eh, it'll all work out fine. :) Sx blind? Throwing myself recklessly after intense attraction, thirst traps, being super provocative, seems tasteless and risky. Soc-blind? Oblivious to how that statement made you feel about me, or judge me, unaware of how I dress or act being inappropriate to a situation.

#enneagram

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ptersparkers · 4 years

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jj and the untimely prank

summary: when a prank goes awry, jj’s at the receiving end of cruel intentions with a euphoric payoff.

warnings: this is just sm*t i’m sorry.

notes: forgive me father, for i have sinned. also i know i said no requests but i couldn’t just leave this one out. based on the request below. tried my best w no typos. also i’ve come to the conclusion that my taglist is too long because it took me fifteen minutes to add everyone but i have no idea what to do lmao.

It was supposed to be a joke.

Rafe Cameron’s end of the summer party began once the sun’s horizon began to emit an orange glow over the Cameron residence. Ward and Rose left for California that morning; the siblings had protested accompanying the two on their vacation after claiming there would be nothing for them to do and Ward had reluctantly let them stay home on the promise that they would behave themselves. Wheezie stayed at a friend’s for the week while Rafe and Sarah shared the house.

However, Rafe had planned to use his empty home to throw a party for residents of Figure Eight, complete with expensive alcohol and loud music that would make any neighbor complain. Sarah begged her brother to let her friend group attend the party, claiming that she’d “die of boredom” if she were to attend the party alone. Reluctantly, Rafe agreed after Sarah promised to talk Ward out of punishing Rafe for neglecting to pick up air canisters.

Rafe, knowing Sarah’s friends and Pope in particular were going to be at the party, crushed a pill of Viagra and dared Topper to mix the pretty blue powered into Pope’s drink. The boy looked innocent enough and both Kooks were eager to see how he’d deal with his problem by keeping tabs on him the entire night.

Only, JJ was the one to drink from the cup Topper tampered with.

The boys tried not to spend too much time ogling at Pope but noticed something was wrong when he was talking to Kelce with a calm demeanor like nothing was wrong and before the Kooks decided to give up, they thought of everything possible scenario of what happened to the cup. After losing interest upon the girls and drugs at the party, neither of them cared enough to follow up on their prank.

JJ was fine for the next thirty minutes but felt so hot and bothered by the time he downed three more shots. He couldn’t think straight and he knew it wasn’t because of the alcohol. A girl had bumped into him by accident, causing him to push against the side of the kitchen’s countertop and he had to hold in a moan as he felt his ever growing cock release some tension. His fingers gripped the edge of the marble and he gritted his teeth, finally acknowledging how hard his cock had gotten.

JJ needed to excuse himself to the bathroom upon seeing your short and tight cheetah print dress that accentuated your natural features, pushing your breasts to the point where they were spilling out of the fabric. He wasn’t sure why, all of the sudden, he felt like his pants were growing tighter as the night progressed. Seeing you walk into the party fashionably late and greeting people he knew while not sparing them a second glance had him wondering if you would look in his direction.

Kiara had walked up to you after having recognized you from your updo and made the bold move to greet you with a gentle hug, avoiding the crowded room of bodies in the process. You grinned at the girl and returned her embrace, careful not to spill the liquid in your cup. JJ could see the way your dress slid up your thighs when you tried to move around the room, periodically pulling the fabric down to cover yourself modestly. It was then when JJ decided he needed to remove himself from the party and relieve himself.

He rushed himself to the nearest empty bathroom and hastily closed the door behind him, fumbling with the lock as his mind thought about his impending problem below his belt. When he looked down, he could see his impressive size grow against his jeans, groaning when he put his hand over his member to relieve some tension.

JJ didn’t know why he had become extremely hard over the course of the night. Of all the times he had imagined talking to you, properly, for the first time, he never imagined he’d be hard while doing it. For a brief moment, he felt guilty for leaving Kiara alone at the party after Pope had struck up a conversation with Kelce while Sarah and John B. had found their own corner in her home. But his apparent hard-on and the fact that he couldn’t walk without feeling himself against his jeans was a bigger problem.

The blond wasted no time unzipping himself and pushed his hands down his boxers to grab himself, biting his lip at the sudden tension that his hand was providing. His thumb stroked his tip and he felt his teeth bite harder on his bottom lip at how euphoric it felt.

His back was pressed against the door as he felt his legs give out, using the frame as a temporary support system as he pushed his jeans and boxers down his legs to allow himself more freedom. When JJ looked down, he witnessed how hard he had grown in a short amount of time and spit into his hands, using his hips to push himself forward while keeping his hand steady, mimicking his thoughts about fucking you into the nearest mattress.

If JJ was being honest with himself, he was using you and the image of your dress sliding up your thigh as his masturbation material. His impending problem seemed to expose itself once he saw you at the party despite feeling strange an hour beforehand. JJ looked at himself in the bathroom’s mirror and saw how fast he was thrusting his hips, realizing he was panting as if he were taking you over the bathroom counter.

He halted his movements to see the precum that leaked from his tip and groaned, not caring about his volume once he realized the sound of the music from the party was louder than he was. His mouth hung ajar as his breaths became erratic and JJ was determined to make his problem disappear quickly, trying his best to avoid an embarrassing situation if Kiara asked him why he was in the bathroom for so long.

JJ moved his hand faster and gritted his teeth, short breaths escaping from his lips as he desperately chased his high. He shut his eyes and let out pretty moans as he jerked his body forward and used his balance as leverage to thrust at a faster pace. JJ squeezed his cock tighter and pretended it was your tight pussy around him instead.

He kept his eyes closed as he let out a deep groan, his chest rising and falling rapidly. JJ could feel himself orgasm quickly and his thick, white ropes fell onto his hand as he finished himself off, opening his eyes to watch as he emptied himself in his enemy’s bathroom. JJ chuckled to himself when he caught his breath and stared at his messy hand, moving quickly to the sink to wash his hands off with soap and water before slowing his breathing down.

But when he looked at the mirror and back to his cock, he could see that his problem hadn’t disappeared. JJ’s cock was still standing in attention, still as hard and thick as before he had made himself orgasm for the first time. He groaned once out of frustration, finding it ironic that he hadn’t been able to make himself come when he was alone but he was experiencing this problem in the presence of strangers. JJ knew it was because you arrived the moment he needed to release the most.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” JJ said in a hushed whisper, almost like he was afraid of being caught despite the bathroom door being closed.

JJ grew frustrated at his impending problem and the throbbing sensation he felt in his lower region when he attempted to wait it out, keeping his breathing steady to fix the situation. But after a few moments of trying to calm his beating heart and think about anything other than what you’d look like with your dress on the floor as he hovered above your body, JJ knew nothing he did would work.

“Shit,” he hissed as he put his hand back on himself, somewhere in between pumping himself in a quick pace and trying to enjoy himself. JJ wanted to step out of the bathroom without an incredibly noticeable hard-on, which prompted him to move his hand back and forth quicker and faster.

He looked at himself in the mirror as his mouth hung open, throwing his head back when he let out a particularly loud hum. The euphoric feeling of using his hand to tug on his cock while simultaneously thinking about the view of you on your knees while you looked up at through your eyelashes was material he’d been using for weeks and it didn’t slow him down this time.

You were someone JJ had trouble talking to despite being a fellow Pogue. You had a good head on your shoulders and both the Pogues and Kooks knew it. You drifted between both sides of the island without a care for the war between classes and freely roamed the grounds as if you owned the place, both groups letting you without hesitation. JJ’s knees would buckle when you walked near him and he would grow quiet whenever you’d approach his friends to speak to Kiara, who you’d known since childhood. He knew his attraction to you was because of your nonchalance and intelligence, but he had an inkling feeling you’d choose him over Rafe, and that was enough for JJ to feel himself close to spilling onto his hand once more.

But before he got the chance to experience another orgasm, the bathroom door opened.

JJ immediately opened his eyes and saw your figure in the doorframe, one hand on the wall as you steadied yourself upon stumbling when you saw JJ. His hand froze on his cock and he could feel his heart pounding in embarrassment while his member throbbed at the loss of his hand.

He watched as your eyes widened when you realized what you were looking at. JJ awkwardly looked down at himself when he realized his cock was still standing at attention in his hand, rapidly moving to pull his boxers and jeans up hastily to cover himself upon feeling his cheeks turn a shade of red from the embarrassment of being caught.

“You’re so big,” you said in complete surprise, looking as JJ fumbled to zip his pants. He tried to keep himself busy, tucking his shirts into his jeans while feeling your gaze on him. But he looked up at your words and watched you with a curious expression.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized, not knowing what to say after your observation and upon being caught with his cock in his hand. He stood by the mirror, shifting from one foot to the other almost as if he was unable to move.

JJ felt embarrassed because he was caught by the person he was infatuated by. You were always the subject of his daydreams and this situation was not an exception. He felt embarrassed because hebthought about you naked on the nearest mattress mere seconds ago and it was almost as if on cue you had walked in on him.

But you shook your head, biting your lip in a sultry manner, taking a step towards him as you slowly closed the door behind you with a subtle sound. JJ watched as your body moved in your dress and before he realized it, you were standing mere inches from him. His blue eyes looked into your own with curiosity and anticipation, feeling your hands gently move themselves from the top of his chest to his belt loops, gently tugging on them.

“Let me help you,” you said in a hushed whisper. JJ wasn’t sure if he was imagining the desperation in your voice but he had imagined looking down at you as you sucked his cock more than he could count, and he knew he’d regret it if he denied himself this opportunity, especially because you were giving your consent.

JJ felt your nimble hands over his clothed chest, your fingers lightly scratching him as he felt his body shudder from excitement. He watched as your body swayed back and forth as you waited for his answer, moving closer to him to the point where you were present against him. You moved your hands from his chest to the side of his thoughts, your hands moving everywhere but the place he needed you most.

“Please,” he said, nodding.

You said nothing as you looked up at him through your tasteful false lashes and pushed your body against his. JJ felt your lips on his neck, closing his eyes as he sighed at the glorious sensation of your lips on him while your hand was on his cock. He could feel your hand move against him, gauging his size for yourself and he felt you moan against his neck.

You could barely keep yourself poised, feeling your mouth water upon feeling his impressive size for yourself. JJ’s body rested against the bathroom counter and you removed your hands from him, causing JJ to temporarily groan at the loss of contact before he felt your hands around his wrists, forcefully placing them on your backside before returning to his cock. His eyes widened with surprise and he wasted no time touching you, squeezing your cheeks.

JJ kneaded you’re backside as your hands moved to unzip his jeans, pushing his jeans down along with his boxers. You felt his cock that was still set from orgasming the first time mixed with his own spit and bit your lip when you felt his hands roam around the fabric of your dress. You encouraged him to continue with a short nod, closing your eyes as your hand moved to work his cock. JJ seemed to get the hint and you felt his hands move to the hem of your dress, sliding them underneath.

He could barely believe he was touching you in his reality rather than his daydreams and took the time to appreciate your skimpy thong, using his fingers to move it to your entrance. You moaned once and debated on letting him touch you further before deciding against it, hiking your dress above your waist before positioning yourself on your knees in a feverish manner.

Your lips caught the tip of his cock in your mouth and JJ used his hands to prop himself on the bathroom counter in an attempt to keep steady. He looked down at you while your hands wrapped themselves the base while your mouth engulfed the rest. JJ couldn’t help himself and pushed his hips forward but you were more than ready for his sudden action and opened your mouth wider, welcoming his size as you gagged in his cock.

You temporarily removed your mouth from him to stroke his member with the string of spit as a result of your previous action and JJ moaned at the feeling of your hand instead of his. You kissed the tip gingerly before licking the side of the shaft with your flattened tongue and JJ felt like he was about to come again.

When JJ watched you move your hand from him to between your thighs, he placed both of his hands to the back of your head. He witnessed as your hands moved underneath the small black cloth that hid nothing, furiously moving your hand to gain friction. JJ could help it; he gripped the back of your head and pushed his hips towards your mouth. You accommodated, widening your mouth and breathed through your nose as you felt his cock thrusted past your lips. He looked down and watched as he disappeared inside of you, feeling your tongue against his underside and came with a loud moan, not bothering to care if anyone outside heard him. JJ fucked your mouth and you let him.

When he pulled out, JJ watched his come spill out from between your lips and you opened your mouth to show him the remnants of all you couldn’t swallow the first time. Your hand moved to chin, cleaning his come and putting your fingers into your mouth as you tasted him. JJ breathed heavily and watched as you, so willingly, continued to touch yourself in front of him.

“You’re still hard,” you said with a pant and a high-pitched voice, closing your eyes temporarily as you inserted a finger inside of you. JJ wasn’t having it, however, and bent down to kiss you. He bent down and replaced your fingers with his own, moaning against you when he realized just how wet and slick you were. JJ was able to slip his middle finger into you and push himself deeper into.

“Let’s find a room upstairs,” JJ said in desperation.

He rose from his position and watched you did the same, his eyes following your hands that smoothed your dress over your cheeks. When you caught his gaze from the mirror, you winked and pushed your breasts together for emphasis, making JJ physically groan and adjust his apparent cock in his pants.

You held his hand and led him upstairs, avoiding the people standing in the hallway, too turned on to care if anyone could guess what the both of you would be doing. JJ opened a door and upon seeing it pictureless, he ducked inside and closed the door shut, locking it before returning his attention to you.

Your dress was thrown on the floor by the time JJ turned around and he rubbed his jaw, looking at how perky your nipples were against the cold air. His hands reached for your waist and pulled you into a hot, wet, searing kiss before turning you around to press you against the wooden door.

“So wet,” he said as he reached in front of you, his hands disappearing into your thong that left nothing to the imagination. He furiously moved his hands in circles and heard you whimpered, not caring about anyone who passed by and if they could head. JJ took this opportunity to undo the zipper of his jeans and push them down to his ankles followed by his boxers and moaned at the sight of his hardness against the backdrop of your ass and pressed himself against you.

JJ could hear you gasp at the sudden feeling but upon seeing your back arch in an attempt to move him where you needed him the most, JJ kept your hips steady with his hands as he thrusted against you, spreading your ass cheeks to watch as his cock worked your backside until you were begging for him to be inside of you. He watched as you tried to spread your legs while your chest was pressed against the door and bent his knees so that his cock was in between your thighs, throwing his head back at the glorious feeling of the fabric of your thong against his cock.

He pulled away and turned you around, smacking your backside before pointing to the bed. You looked at him as you climbed onto it, removing your thong in the process. He watched as you spread your legs and teased your folds, stripping from the rest of his clothing save for the gold chain around his neck.

JJ wasted no time and attached his mouth to your pussy, licking a delicious stripe against your slit. Your hands found themselves tangled in his hair and when JJ felt your hips rock against his tongue and your hands pulling at his roots, he could help but grind against the white bedsheets underneath him, moaning into your core with such pleasure. Your legs were spread far and wide into the air when you felt him moan against you and JJ, at the sound of a particularly loud moan, lifted his head to see your euphoric state.

He smirked and lifted his hand, smacking your core while relishing the sound of how wet you were. Your eyes widened and you begged for him to do it again. JJ wasn’t shy that night and did as he was told, bringing the tips of his fingers over your pussy, giving gentle slaps until you were begging for his cock to be inside of you.

You grabbed the gold chain and pulled him to meet your lips, tongue sliding into his mouth as he used his fingers to move to your pussy once again, letting his index and middle finger enter you with the rush of adrenaline. You knew you were close to your first orgasm between his mouth and his fingers, and you warned him about your inevitable orgasm against his lips. The sound of your wetness and his fingers echoed throughout the room, as did your cries.

When JJ pulled his hand out of you, he didn’t think about letting you recover and neither did you. You ached for it and so did JJ; he sat back on his knees and tugged on his cock a few times before pushing the head inside of you. You felt the euphoric feeling of his cock and begged for more until JJ gave in, pushing everything he had to offer inside of you.

But JJ was going to have fun with you. You had begged him to use you for his own gain moments prior and he had no reluctance. His elbows were situated beside your head and the tip of his tongue stuck out as he pulled himself out of you, barely touching your entrance with his tip. You whined, wrapping your arms around him while trying to get him to move, but he shook his head and laughed at your attempt.

He sunk inside of you once again and heard your delicious scream before pulling out of you altogether for the second time. JJ repeated this action four more times until you pulled him down by the gold chain, catching him by surprise. But he welcomed this distraction. His cock pounded your pussy furiously until the only sounds in the room were your wetness being spread between your pelvis and his, your high-pitched screaming as you begged JJ to fuck you harder, and JJ’s loud grunts that sounded so primal and needy.

The headboard wasn’t too far above his body and he gripped the edge, steadying himself as he kept a steady pace while thrusting into you. The wooden headboard smacked against the wall with a prominent sound and JJ smirked down at you, urging you to be as loud as you can if you wanted his cock to keep fucking you.

You could feel the mattress below you act like ocean waves as the bedsheet kept moving across the bare skin of your thighs. Your arms gripped onto JJ’s body like you’d fall off of the bed if you didn’t and he responded by pounding into you harder, faster, and rougher.

JJ pulled out of you and moved your body so that your chest was pressed against the mattress. He backed away enough to bend down and move his face to your core, furiously moving his tongue against you before replacing it with his cock. JJ gripped your hips and threw his head back at the sight of your ass against his pelvis and dug his fingertips into your skin, almost like he was afraid you’d leave. He raised his palm and slapped your ass cheek, to which you moaned for more.

“I’m gonna fuck you into tomorrow,” he promised, delivering another slap. “Gonna make sure to fuck you in front of a window next time so everyone can see how badly you want it.”

“JJ,” you called, out of breath.

“Wanna make sure I fuck your tits before I die,” he said with his eyes shut. “‘M gonna come.”

“In my pussy,” you begged.

JJ moaned loudly and grunted, pulling your ass closer to him as he released. You arched your back at the feeling and he moved his hands to your clit, roughly moving his fingers against your sensitive area. He pulled out of you and turned you onto your back, pulling you until you were nearly off of the edge of the bed and wordlessly slipped his cock back into your wet centre, pushing your legs against your chest for a deeper angle.

His cock was buried so deep inside of you that you could hear sirens in your head and see a halo above JJ. His fingers moved to your clit and deliciously moved at a pace that brought you closer to your orgasm. JJ almost wished someone would walk in just so they could see how high up in the air your legs were and how loudly you were moaning, all because of his cock.

His chest was hot with passion and he moaned after thrusting into you particularly hard, his deep voice bringing you your second orgasm. JJ felt your come on the tip of his cock and pulled out to watch white pearls drip from your entrance before using his tip to gather the remnants, awing at the wetness of your skin.

“I could live in your pussy,” he moaned breathing as his hand moved back and forth on his cock. He could feel his cool chain against his neck and JJ stepped back to witness the mess he made on your body and how utterly fucked you looked on the bed in front of him.

“I need another,” you whined, stepping off of the bed to walk towards him. You could feel your juiced on your inner thigh and replaced JJ’s hand with your own. “God, are you always this hard when you fuck?”

JJ laughed in a mocking tone and gripped your jaw with his hands, watching your wet lips scrunch together. Your eyes widened and you gripped his cock tighter at the sudden feeling, sending a wave of pleasure over JJ’s body. You knew what you were doing to him and he wasn’t about to let you out of this room until he came for fourth and final time.

“Only when I fuck you,” he gruned, his free hand teasing your nipple.

“You gonna fuck me some more?” you asked innocently as JJ loosened the grip on your jaw.

“When we fuck, I’ll always give you whatever you want,” he said, pushing your body against the wall and slipping into your wet center with ease. You yelped and widened your legs and JJ shut his eyes as you clenched around him. “Wanna come in you until you’re silly with it.”

“I wanna feel it,” you whined, arching your back so that you had room to bring your hand to your entrance, toying with your clit. He placed a harsh slap to your asscheek and you groaned with pleasure.

“You like my cock, huh?” he asked.

“I fucking crave it,” you replied with squinted eyes as he delivered another slap. JJ smiled to himself at how dirty your words were, especially after knowing you to be some innocent saint before tonight. While he never knew if you had any sexual tendencies or bothered to catch up with your dating life, he’d imagine you to be under his undoing; JJ wanted to be the first person that came inside of you and the first person to hear you moan. He knew that his fantasy didn’t matter compared to your reality, but in that moment, all he cared about was delivering another mind blowing orgasm to your pussy.

JJ pulled you by the elbows until you were looking at him and gripped your breasts, using your body for balance as his cock relentlessly pounded into you, so much that you screamed in euphoria. He gently pushed you off of him and commanded your body back on the bed, feeling himself on the edge of, what he hoped, would be his final orgasm. But he wouldn’t complain about giving you another creampie if you asked for it.

JJ’s pelvis met yours repeatedly and your legs were bent, high in the air. His hands were on either side of you as he thrusted into you as he came alongside you, both of your orgasms spilling past his cock and out of your pussy onto the bed below the both of you. JJ kept fucking you despite being nearly empty and relished the tight feeling of your pussy clenching around his cock until he couldn’t, opting you lay his chest on top of yours and kisses your open mouth like he needed to.

His cock was still inside of you as you both tried to reach a tranquil state and his lips moved to your neck, peppering sweet kisses. JJ wanted to relish in the feeling of your nakedness and continued to kiss your lips with vigor. He pulled away when both of you regained your breaths and stroked the side of your head, moving your hair away from your face.

“I’ve never been fucked for so hard or so long,” you confessed with a shy smile, your face red from blushing and how hard you had been fucked.

“I think someone put something into my drink,” JJ said with an amused laugh. “I’ve been hard for a long ass time.” You looked around the clock on the nightstand beside you and opened your mouth i’m surprise.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled. JJ raised an eyebrow before looking in your direction. “We’ve been fucking for hours. The party’s probably coming to an end.”

JJ looked back at you as you spoke and jerked his cock deeper into you, to which you licked your lips and shut your eyes. He laughed and touched your cheek with the pad of his thumb, wiping away fallen mascara before leaving a soft kiss pressed against your nose.

“I don’t even know how you’re still hard,” you said. He shrugged.

“Me either, but I’m not exactly complaining.”

“Neither am I,” you said as you bit your bottom lip.

“Oh yeah?” JJ said as he thrusted into you twice more, watching as you breathed heavily and looked at him. “You fuck like a fucking champ.”

“And you fuck like your life depends on it.” JJ smoked and thrusted into you once more.

“Oh, look,” he said with in false surprise. “I’m still hard.”

“Oh, look,” you said, mocking him. “I’m still wet.”

“Mm,” he mumbled, sitting upright to watch his cock inside of you. JJ pulled himself out to the point where his head was sitting inside and you whined, reaching your hand to grip him and pull him inside of you. He tapped your knee twice and you reluctantly let go.

“We’re gonna fuck until Rafe kicks us out, got it?” JJ said. You nodded vigorously and JJ rewarded you by pushing himself into you, but not all the way. “Your pussy’s gonna be so used to my cock that it’ll be me you want to fuck.”

“Yes,” you breathed, feeling as he pushed into you more. But you were unsatisfied by JJ holding himself back.

“I’m gonna ruin that pretty pussy of yours tonight,” he said more to himself than to you while pushing himself inside.

“JJ,” you whined. “Please.”

“We’re gonna fuck and I don’t care if anyone walks in.”

JJ slid himself inside of you, fully, and gained a rhythm that caused you to pull JJ down to your body. His hips pushed against you as your hips lifted to meet his rhythm and all he wanted to do was fuck you until he couldn’t.

***

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sagittariuswritings · 3 years

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TFATWS EPISODE 4 SPOILERS Pairing: Helmut Zemo x f!reader Summary: Y/n was dragged along Sam and Bucky’s “Zemo mission” by Bucky. She’s a mutant herself, an empath to be exact. After the blip, Bucky became her new neighbor. They became good friends, and got to know each other, and he offered to teach her self defense. When he asked for her help, she never knew she’d catch feelings for a criminal. Warnings: Language, angst, soft!zemo, fluff, and h*nd h*lding Word count: 2.3k+ A/N: I know I know I posted a screenshot of this days ago but I’ve been really busy at the barn lately and I always have to go to bed before midnight and I’m typically busy until 8pm so I’ve been really meaning to finish this!! AO3 link (not my gif)

The new plan was for Sam to try and talk to Karli. Of course, Y/n didn’t expect Zemo to actually go through with that. Zemo called Karli a supremacist, which just about earned him a punch across the nose from her, but she held herself back - more like Bucky caught what she was about to do and he grabbed her by the elbow to drag her away like a child.

Y/n wore gloves nearly all the time, in all weather. With her empathic powers, and no one to guide her with them, she didn’t know how to control them or contain them, so she resulted in wearing gloves instead. Sure, it sucked when summer came, but in her mind it was worth it in the end.

Of course, John Walker himself had to butt in. The four of them (Sam, Bucky, Zemo, and Y/n) were on their way to Donya’s funeral, and low and behold John Walker’s been tracking them down. “Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit.”

“Ah great - How’d you find us now?” Bucky immediately spoke up when they rounded the corner to fully see John and Lemar.

“Come on, man, you really think two avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” Started Lemar, but then John butted in. “No more keeping us in the dark. You could start by telling us why you broke him out of prison.”

“Technically speaking, he did that himself-” Y/n started, but John cut her off.

“And who the hell is she?” He turned, looking at Sam and Bucky while jabbing a thumb in her direction.

“She can very well speak for herself, off-brand Captain America.” She said with her arms going over her chest. She couldn’t stand the guy already. Her and Bucky were together to watch his little football game thing, and she could practically see the steam coming out of Bucky’s ears. She could feel the anger, too. “I’m simply an acquaintance helping my friends, none of your concern.”

“None of my-” “Yes, none of your business. I know where Karli is.” Zemo interrupted him, starting to push past John, but he stopped him. “Well where?” Sam spoke up for Zemo, “All we know is, it’s a memorial, so we’re gonna intercept her there.” Lemar said something about being careful due to civilians, but Zemo, Y/n, and Bucky were already starting to walk off.

John tried explaining his quote on quote plan and that of course led to bickering between him, Sam, and Lemar. All Y/n could do was roll her eyes and earned a small chuckle from Zemo beside her. “What?” “Oh, nothing, it is just entertaining is all.” “What? Me getting frustrated or them bickering like children?” Zemo paused. “Both.”

John, yet again, tried stopping them, and having already been around their bickering, Y/n was getting fed up. This time, it was Zemo who held her back. He gently wrapped his hand around her elbow before she could speak up, and she reluctantly listened to him, letting the rest of them deal with his bullshit.

“I’ll deal with you later.” John pointed at Zemo. “Yeah, sure you will.” She mumbled, and before John could snap back, Zemo spoke up. “My associate is just up ahead.” And with that, they were finally moving again. Y/n figured there would be a trick or two up Zemo’s sleeve, but using a child to show him to the funeral was the last thing she expected him to do. As he gave her the money, she couldn’t help but smile a little. It was nice to see a man that looked extremely closed-off do something good. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

Before Zemo could even speak, John cuffed him to a piece of machinery. “You’ve got ten minutes, then we’re doing things my way.” He told Sam over his shoulder after cuffing Zemo.

“Aggressive. But I get it.” In all honesty, Y/n wasn’t against this. More often than not her gut feelings were correct, and she certainly had a gut feeling that Zemo was going to do something either stupid or bad within the next hour or so.

Y/n sat down beside Lemar, bringing one knee up to her chest and letting her other leg hang off the edge of this machinery. She didn’t hate Lemar the way she hated John. Lemar seemed to have a good heart, one that was set in the right way and that wouldn’t change no matter what. He wasn’t like his associate, and Y/n could feel it. John had an aggressive and arrogant type of energy, meanwhile Lemar had a passionate and determined energy. There wasn’t a dangerous edge to the man.

The entire ten minutes - well, at this point it hadn’t even been eight let alone ten -, John paced nonstop and was driving her and Bucky insane. Her and Bucky seemed to make eye contact out of frustration nearly every time John would pace. And Zemo just stood with a grimace on his face the entire time. “Do you ever stop?” She finally said. “Stop what?” “Trying so fucking hard to be the hero of every situation.” “Excuse me?” That seemed to irritate him because he stopped pacing and came up to her, barely leaving much space between them.

“Y/n.” Bucky spoke, his tone a warning. “Leave it be.”

“No, I’m not going to leave it be. Not when I can’t hear my own thoughts over this guy making a trench in the concrete.” She sat up as she defended herself, not even bothering to look up at John when she talked to Bucky. “You try so hard to be the good guy. You have this mindset that you’re in control of everything just because you gave yourself the label Captain America. You think just because you’ve been labeled as Captain America, you can just go about bossing everyone around. You’re a spitting image of your average American, however.” With that, she got to her feet. She was smaller than him, but that didn’t stop her from continuing. “You’re a rich white man with beautiful blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes, but you think because you’re a rich white man that you can control everything. You’re one spitting image of the American Government: Fucked up and corrupt.”

You could hear a pin drop. It was so silent. Y/n could feel the pure anger in John begin to bubble up, and right when she thought he was going to hit her, all he said was “I’m going in.” She was left standing there as Lemar jogged after John, just her and Zemo being the only ones left in the room.

“That was… Impressive.” Zemo ended up speaking first. Y/n snapped her head over at him, and there were tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t normally get like this. The energy in the room was tense and her emotions got caught in the tension. “It wasn’t.” She mumbled, a sniffle following her words as she made her way over to Zemo. “I don’t exactly trust you but,” She pulled a bobby pin out of her hair. “This is a bit much.” It took her a second, but she was able to unlock the handcuffs.

Zemo seemed to stare at the cuffs for a moment while he rubbed his wrist, his eyes meeting her own. “Thank you.” “It’s nothing. Just go do your thing and I’ll be your babysitter.”

The large metal door slammed before Y/n could follow Zemo into the boiling room, and she heard him shove things in front of the door. “Zemo?” Silence. “Zemo what the fuck, let me in!” She shoved her shoulder against the door, but it didn’t budge. “It’s for your own safety.” She scoffed. “My safety? You better be worried about your own safety if I get my fucking hands on you after this, open the door.” She heard his footsteps retreating and she slammed her fist against the door out of anger, probably bruising her hand in the process because god that hurt.

Gunshots went off. She didn’t want to leave the spot in fear of getting lost, and within minutes Bucky was jogging down the hallway. “Zemo locked me out and I just heard gunshots-” Before she could continue, bucky managed to get the door open by kicking it, then he just had to push it open. By the time they got in the room, Lemar entered from across the room and upon looking down, Zemo’s unconscious body was in the center of the room while John stood some feet away from him. “What the hell happened-?” Y/n breathed out, running down the stairs and dropping to her knees by Zemo’s body, her fingers instantly going to his pulse beneath his jaw. There was a very obvious pulse, but she was still shaken up.

Why was she shaken up? He was a bad man. He was a criminal. He used Bucky to destroy people’s lives. He was supposed to be her enemy, so why was she worried about whether or not he had a pulse?

“Karli got him.” John came up behind her, but she stood up immediately. “Would you just back the fuck off? You don’t need to butt in on everything or be involved in everything. Get it through your stupid fucking helmet to your brain.” He started talking but she turned around and got back to Zemo’s side. She lightly hit his cheek with her gloved hand, and when he didn’t budge for a moment, she muttered a sorry before slapping him. That seemed to wake him up. His head lifted off the concrete, and his eyes fluttered open to meet her own.

“Oh, good, you’re alive. Let’s go back to your home now. Bucky?” She looked up at him, a soft pleading look in her eyes that said help. Reluctantly, he wandered over and helped her get Zemo to his feet.

Bucky and Sam had left to find somewhere for food, and left Y/n alone with Zemo in his home. She didn’t mind, if anything it was her suggestion. While the pair left the building, she guided him to his couch. He originally sat up but she put a hand on his chest and gently put pressure on his chest to ease him into a lying position. “I’ll get you some ice.” She quietly said, making her way to the kitchen.

“A cold cloth, please. Not a fan of ice over my eyes.” Zemo managed to speak up, his voice drifting to the kitchen. “As long as you’re sure.” She answered, grabbing a washcloth from one of the many drawers of his kitchen.

Quietly, Y/n stepped into the living room. “Lift your head.” She ordered. “Feisty.” Was his response. She rolled her eyes and sat where he had lifted his head. “Lay back.” She ordered again. Reluctantly, he lowered the back of his head onto her lap. “Close your eyes.” “I like the sound of that.” He muttered, his lips forming into a smirk. “Keep it up and I’ll make your headache ten times worse.” She quipped, gently laying the cloth over his closed eyes. “Now open your hand for a glass.” And she gently placed a shot glass of one of his strongest alcohols in his hand. “Do you want any pain meds or anything?” She asked, looking down at him. “Your touch would be enough, mein liebling.” His voice was quiet.

Of course, Y/n wore gloves solely to not have any physical contact with anyone. She feared feeling others’ emotions, seeing as she didn’t have a clue of how to control them. She’d told Zemo that she just had sensitive skin to certain material, which she figured he didn’t buy it, but he never said anything else.

With hesitation, she removed her gloves and placed them on the coffee table to her left. “Alright.” She spoke, her voice barely above a whisper as she reached for his right hand with her own. When she placed her hand in his, she felt him flinch. “You didn’t have to take your gloves off if you didn’t want to-” She cut him off. “It’s okay, Zemo.” “Helmut.” “Pardon?” “Call me Helmut. It’s my first name. Zemo isn’t my first.” Her brows raised in surprise, but she nodded.

Within moments of her slipping her hand in his, he intertwined his fingers with her own. A soft shade of pink settled onto her cheeks, and she was thankful that he couldn’t see her.

Surprisingly, she didn’t feel anything she’d feared when she touched his skin. She could feel faint pain and sadness from the past, but she also felt kindness. “You have a kind heart, you know. You put on a stone cold expression, but you’re kind.. I can feel it.”

With that, he placed his glass on the table and very quickly removed the cloth from his eyes, even though it hurt him to move his head too much. “I knew it.” She looked at him, a brow raised to toy with him. “Knew what?” “You’re an empath.” There it was. She knew he knew. “I am.”

“Am I… Hurting you?” Her heart nearly exploded at how soft his voice was. Very quickly, she shook her head. “No, no you’re not. I promise.” She smiled down at him and her eyes softened when she saw that look on his face. He was like a completely different person. He was touch starved. It was clearer than a crystal.

“Rest, Helmut… You need it.” She whispered, leaning over to gently press a kiss to his now cold forehead.

“You don’t need to tell me twice when you’re lulling me to sleep.” He snuck a smirk in before she laughed softly and covered his eyes with the cloth once more.

#helmut zemo/reader #zemo/reader #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x y/n #helmut zemo x you #zemo x y/n #zemo x you #marvel #mcu #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #the falcon and the winter soldier #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo #zemo #daniel bruhl

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kohanayaki · 3 years

Text

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 3

Continuing the story of how you and Sirius became friends; as James and Remus grow closer to you, Sirius continues to treat you coldly until a late night encounter makes him question everything.

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

________________________________________________________

Ch 3 .:Resistance and Reconciliation:.

~Previously~

“I'm not going to bother making friends with someone whose family is so wrapped up in blood politics they forget to be human beings first. Trust me, I've met their mother enough times to know.”

“Did you ever ask them about it?” Remus pressed.

“I don't really need to, do I? They're a (L/n). Open your eyes, Moony!”

Remus' brow furrowed, a shine in his eyes akin to sympathy as he regarded Sirius.

“Perhaps it's you that needs to clear your vision, friend.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1974 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius sat on the stone ledge on the window of his dorm room, looking out towards the Black Lake. He could see the push and pull of the wind as the thin branches of the ash trees bowed gently with the rhythm. In the reflection of the glass he could see James and Peter behind him experimenting with an altered set of wizard's chess, complete with fire-breathing knights and bishops that threw daggers, while one of Remus' records spun in the background.

Despite everything he could have been thinking about at the moment, his thoughts, irritatingly enough, drifted to you. He frowned slightly as he leaned his shoulder against the window, annoyed that you occupied even a portion of his mind. He just couldn't understand you. Somehow you had turned James, who had once openly proclaimed you his sworn enemy, into something close to a friend in the span of a year. You had no qualms with pranks pulled on you, yet you were fiercely protective when they were directed at others. You were always smiling, yet your temper took no prisoners. If you weren't a Slytherin you might even be attractive.

The thought made him bolt upright. Where the hell did that come from? He almost laughed. No. Absolutely not. He was Sirius Black, he could get anyone he wanted in this bloody school, and he certainly wasn't going to busy his mind with you. What the hell was wrong with him? It's not like he noticed the way you smiled to yourself when you were reading, or the fact that the sound of your laugh got stuck in his head like a song—

No. Stop it. Get your head straight, they're evil.

Sirius exhaled deeply, rubbing his tired eyes with his hands. For some reason that thought didn't sit right in his brain, and the longer he sat with it he came to a horrifying conclusion:

Maybe Remus was right.

The only time you'd really been nasty to them was when they'd instigated it first, or whenever they had a go at Snivelus, which had become less and less frequent; Sirius suspected because of your tentative friendship with James. He'd always just assumed you were like the other Slytherins he'd come to know. There's been hearsay circulating around you, especially given your family's reputation, but you yourself hadn't really done anything to prove the rumors. Maybe you really weren't like your family at all. Maybe you were like him. . .

Suddenly, he caught movement in the corner of his eye, not from his friend's reflections but from outside the window itself. A figure emerged from the lamplight of the castle gate, making their way towards the edge of the forest. If the green lining of your school robes and (h/c) hair didn't peak his interest, the flash that he saw of your face as you shot a quick glance over your shoulder confirmed it was you.

Sirius' mind began racing as he watched you disappear into the foliage, and suddenly every thought that had given you the benefit of the doubt vanished. He'd heard the rumors about the gatherings in the forest, everyone had. He'd even caught Snape practicing dark magic there himself one of the first nights they'd used the Shrieking Shack passageway.

He jumped off his perch by the window and grabbed a sheet of parchment and a quill, drawing a rough outline of the perimeter of the forest. He labeled the Black Lake so his spell would have a going off point and pressed his wand to the still drying ink.

“Revelare Popularis,”

The enchantment was a work in progress— a technique he'd learned from a seventh year. It wasn't exact, but it was enough to tell him if anyone else was in the forest right now. His eyes darted across the paper as he scanned his makeshift map, and the color drained from his face as he saw names suddenly appear in a cluster by the lake: Mulciber, Wilkes, Avery, and Malfoy.

Was this it? Were you really one of them?

James looked up from his game as he saw Sirius grab his leather jacket off where it hung from his bedpost.

“Going somewhere?”

“(L/n) just went into the forest,” Sirius said, “I'm following them.”

“Why, Sirius?” Remus said sardonically, having had enough of his unusual grudge against you, “We're not really ones to talk when it comes to sneaking around the forest at night, now are we?”

“He's got a point,” James said, “I mean, what do you think you're going to see?”

“What do I think?” Sirius scoffed, pushing the paper into Jame's hands, “what does it look like?”

James looked down at the parchment blankly.

“What am I looking at?”

“A variation on Revelio,” Sirius explained quickly, “if you have a location in mind it shows you who's there, but only at the time the charm is cast.”

“Are you kidding me?” James' jaw nearly dropped, “You're just now showing this to us? We could have been taking advantage of this spell to dodge Filch this whole time!”

“I'm serious.”

James had to fight hard not to make a joke out of that one.

“If (L/n)'s meeting up with those guys it can't be for anything good,” Sirius continued, “and I'm gonna find out exactly why.”

Before any of the boys could get another word in, Sirius took off running down the corridor. James groaned, rebelling against the urge to slam his head into the wall.

“I've got to stop him before he does something stupid,” he said, pulling a coat on over his shoulders, “You with me, Remus?”

“Probably not the best idea,” Lupin reminded him, “the moon's full tomorrow. I won't turn, but in the direct moonlight I may get a bit. . . well, you know.”

“Right,” James sighed, running a hand through his hair in distress, “Peter?”

The boy jolted as he was addressed, his eyes quickly cast down to his twiddling fingers.

“I. . . w-well. . .”

“Fine,” James said, waving them off in annoyance, “I'll go at him alone.”

___________________________________________________

You took a grateful breath of the crisp night air, letting the wind whistle through your hair and clothes. You loved your common room, but it could feel constricting at times, especially when there were nights as beautiful as this taking place.

Your eyes drifted up to the moon, smiling at the sight of it. It was nearly full, only a sliver of white missing from the very edge of the sphere. The sight alone was enough to make you feel more at home in your own skin, an inexplicable sense of comfort washing over you. You hadn't been able to really let loose and just run in so long. You'd made doubly sure no one had followed you into the forest, but you still gave your surroundings a quick once over. You jumped as the sound of leaves crunching suddenly asserted itself behind you and you lit your wand quickly, turning to see who it was.

“. . . Black?”

“Sorry, were you expecting someone else? One of your pureblood friends, maybe?”

The confused look on your face only made his anger flare.

“Don't act coy,” he asked harshly, “just what are you playing at?”

Your back straightened in surprise, taken aback by his words.

“Excuse me?”

“I've seen you talking to my brother, Rosier, Snivelus, and all those other Slytherins. Don't think I don't know what you're doing,” the words flew out of his mouth before they had time to pass through his brain, every irrational irritation he had regarding you spewing out of him at once, “I've had to sit through it, you know. All those dinners where my parents talk blood politics with all the fanatics who think just like them. I've listened to your mother brag all about your pure blood line and how her child is 'so eager to carry on the family traditions'. So whatever you're planning by getting close to James, I'm not going to let it happen.”

You felt like you were frozen in place, staring at him as your throat tightened into knots.

“My mom?” you said, voice suddenly small, “Sirius. . . my mom passed away when I was little.”

Your words hit the Gryffindor like a truck.

“. . . what?” he asked dumbly, his brain delaying slightly in processing what you'd just said.

“She got sick. . . an experimental spell gone wrong. If you met someone with my family's name that spoke like that, it was probably my aunt. My cousin goes to Ilvermorny. That's the child she's talking about, not me. The divide between purebloods and muggleborns is even more severe in America, if you can believe it. . . ”

Sirius faltered, this new information going against everything he'd heard and thought he knew about you and your family.

“But,” he hesitated, “your father—”

“Put up the image he had to in order to keep me safe,” you said. You knew he was documented as being very open about his pureblood pride and distaste towards muggles, but it was a cover more than anything, “Since he stopped speaking with my aunt and moved us both away from the estate, she's acted as the new head of the (L/n) House, and that was years ago. . .”

You trailed off awkwardly, not feeling very self-righteous in your explanation.

“I know my family doesn't have the best reputation. . . that's probably why you hate me, huh?” you chuckled humorlessly, wincing at how harsh the words came out. But if you were honest, you were hurt that out of everyone in their group, Sirius was the one that didn't even seem to want to give you a chance. You were the one who had extended the olive branch in the first place on the condition that they ease up on Severus.

“Hate you?” Sirius echoed hollowly, feeling guilt creep up on him like a shadow, “that's. . . shit, no, that's not—”

“Everte Statum!”

You gasped as Sirius was suddenly shot backwards, his body flipping wildly through the air from the force before being slammed against the trunk of a nearby tree. His head spun, heavily disoriented as his vision shifted in shades.

You had drawn your wand on instinct, looking around for your attackers when you saw a black-clad figure lift their hood, revealing a long mane of white hair that stood out starkly in the night.

Malfoy.

“Well, looky here,” Mulciber taunted, revealing himself behind you, “we've caught the two biggest blood traitors of the last century having a touching little moment together.”

Laughter echoed from the trees, Wilkes emerging from the shadows. You took up a defensive position as their group surrounded you.

“Now, let's not be hasty, Mulciber,” Lucius said, “their father may have disgraced their house, yes, but they didn't have a choice. It's not too late for them to make the right one now.” His lips turned up into a snarl as he regarded Sirius, “get away from that blood traitor, (L/n), he'll rub off on you.”

You grit your teeth hard, preparing to cast a spell when Malfoy put his hand up in a silencing gesture, the pretentious little prat.

“Ah, you don't want to make any rash moves either, (L/n),” he said, looking to your left. You followed his gaze to see Avery coming out of the foliage, grappling with someone under his arm.

“Potter?!”

James smiled weakly as Avery held him in a choke hold, a bit of blood dripping down the side of his head.

“Hey,” he said, humor still light in his voice, “So, this didn't exactly work out as planned.” He groaned as Avery's elbow was driven into his stomach, effectively silencing him.

As soon as you tried to move towards him, Lucius had his wand pointed at you.

“Let him go and get lost, Malfoy,” you said lowly, “you've taken this far enough.”

“You've been avoiding us, (L/n),” Lucius said, ignoring you entirely, “Snape may have come up with some rubbish excuses for you earlier, but you can't keep running from this.”

“If practicing curses on first years and terrorizing other people is how you plan on using magic, then I don't want any part of your little cult,” you spat, “face it, Malfoy— you lot need me, but I don't need you.”

Lucius exhaled sharply, his genuine surprise at your resistance replaced quickly with anger.

“Think about what you're doing, (L/n),” he said, his eyes narrowing dangerously, “don't be a fool like your father.”

That did it.

With a growl you unleashed an orange bolt of energy from your wand, your Stupefy hitting Lucius square in the chest. Mulciber was quick to retaliate with a jinx of his own, which you quickly nullified with a shield charm. Shock flashed across his expression at your casual use of nonverbal magic, and he recovered one second too late.

Sirius was back on his feet, petrifying Mulciber and swatting Wilkes away like a fly with the knockback jinx before either could cast a spell at you. You and Sirius found yourselves back to back, fending off Lucius as he continued to direct a steady stream of curses in your direction. Sirius managed to create an opening for you and you turned to where James was being held.

“Evanossa!”

A flash of blue hit Avery, who shrieked in horror when he saw that the arm he was using to hold Potter had turned gelatinous, fingers drooping down like melting ice cream. James wasted no time paying him back in kind for roughing him up earlier, sending him flying into the oak tree and using the water from the Black Lake to freeze him there before joining you in the fray.

“Expelliarmus!” he called out, sending Wilke's wand spinning out of his reach and leaving only Malfoy against the three of you.

Lucius faltered for a moment as he stared down your group of three, but held fast.

“Leave it, Malfoy,” you said, “it's over.”

He growled under his breath, taking up an obvious offensive stance, but you were too quick.

“Ebublio!”

Lucius gasped as he suddenly found himself encased in a giant bubble, his knockback jinx ricocheting off the inside and hitting him in the back of the head. He pounded against the bubble in frustration but found it to be thick as Plexiglas and just as strong, unable to pop it. Suddenly, he was hoisted into the air as you raised your wand higher, directing him farther and farther away until he was hovering directly over the Black Lake.

“Let me go this instant!” he growled.

A devilish smile graced your features.

“You got it.”

“No, wait, don't you dar—AHH!!”

You turned your back on him, your breaking eye contact promptly bursting the bubble and sending him flailing into the water a few feet below.

You chuckled as you sent a few quick counter-jinxes out from your wand, restoring Mulciber's range of motion and liquefying the ice that trapped Avery.

As soon as Mulciber was unpetrified he took off running towards the Lake where Lucius was furiously treading water, tripping over his feet as he dragged Wilkes along with him. Avery limped after them, defrosted but still chilled to his bones (which you had been so kind to also restore).

“I'd fish him out quickly if I were you,” you called after them, “the giant squid is more active at night.”

“You're out of your mind, (L/n)!” Avery turned around and yelled, but with fear evident in his eyes, “You'll live to regret this, mark my words. The Headmaster—”

“Would love to know who cast the first spell, I'm sure,” you said darkly.

Avery stammered out some lame response under his breath before turning around and running after the rest of group, retreating.

Sirius turned to look at you, awestruck and chocked full of adrenaline. Maybe you really weren't so bad after all.

“That was. . .” James trailed off, grasping for the words and blurting them out as soon as he found them, “Brilliant, (Y/n). You're bloody brilliant.”

You felt your face heat up, not expecting that. You and James had stopped trading insults and threats (serious ones, anyways) and your teasing had become well meant, but neither of you had crossed the threshold of actually paying the other a compliment before.

“Thanks, Potter,” you said, unable to fight the smile on your face. You turned to Sirius briefly. “I hope this cleared some things up for us,” you said, “I'd really like to try and be friends, so. . .”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, wanting to kick himself at the way you turned him into a monosyllabic neanderthal with just a look. You gave him a small smile before turning back to James who was trying desperately to hide his limp and aching rib cage.

“Alright, let's get you to the hospital wing, Potter,” you sighed, “you look like a cheap action star in a muggle movie.”

“Uh,” James said nervously, “better we not. If I go to Madame Pomfrey three times in one day she'll never let me hear the end of it.”

“And who's fault is that?” You huffed, slinging an arm over his shoulder and helping him walk, “at least let me patch you up, then.”

Sirius followed some distance behind you, watching as you walked James back towards the castle and laughed at his occasional jokes. This one night had just turned everything upside down for Sirius. This whole time he was sure that he didn't like you because you were a blood-purist Slytherin and he was jealous that you were taking his best friend away from him; but the way you had stood up to Lucius and his goons made your position on blood politics very clear, and the tight feeling that struck Sirius' chest as he watched you cozy up with James made him reevaluate just which one of you he was jealous of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sirius?”

The man blinked, slowly coming back to reality. You were looking up at him in concern, your head resting lightly on his shoulder. It took an embarrassing amount of his willpower to keep from leaning forward just a few inches and kissing you.

Could you pick a worse time, you numbskull? He thought, mentally smacking himself for even thinking about it.

“Are you okay?” you asked hesitantly after he stayed silent.

“I'm alright,” he insisted, giving you a reassuring smile, “just. . . thinking about how far we've come.”

His answer surprised you, though not in a bad way.

“I suppose we have,” you smiled back, “this is a far cry from you scowling at me from across the Great Hall over your breakfast.”

“I did not scowl,” Sirius scoffed playfully, nudging you away with his shoulder.

“Right,” you grinned, “scowling, glaring, glowering, whichever you prefer.”

“I said I was sorry,” he said, putting his hands up in mock surrender, although you both knew you weren't really upset about it. You'd long since forgiven him for his initial misjudgment.

When your light laughter died down, your head found itself lulling to the side again, tiredness taking over your mind as you rested against Sirius once more. When you tilted your head up to look at him he had a surprisingly pensive look on his face. Your eyes traveled across his expression, his gray eyes almost taking on a deep shade of blue in the shadows of his room. You noticed how much younger he looked when he was smiling; it was in moments like these when it really set in how long you had known each other, because you could see the years in his eyes.

Your own flickered down to his lips in spite of yourself and Sirius' heart skipped a beat, fearing you could feel it racing in his rib cage. When had you turned him so soft? He chuckled inwardly. Long before he had fully come to terms with how he felt about you was the answer. Even when he was in Azkaban, with two of his closest friends dead and the world convinced he was at fault, even if he had to live with the fact that he would never see you again, he still thought of you, and that kept him alive, sane— himself. But now you were here in front of him, and he was terrified that at any moment you would vanish into thin air and he would find himself back in that horrible cinder block cell, face to face with a dementor as it took his last memories of you away from him.

Your hand squeezed his, almost as if you had read his thoughts— as if you were assuring him that you were real, and you weren't going anywhere. You noticed him leaning in closer, even if he didn't, possessed by some invisible force. You were nearly about to meet him halfway when you were suddenly startled apart by the sound of quick, heavy-footed steps bounding down the stairs.

You both looked at each other as if you had just awoken from some sort of trance, instinctively putting some distance between yourselves as you shifted away awkwardly.

“I. . . I should probably get to bed,” you said, your face warm.

“Right,” Sirius said, reluctantly getting up from his seat at the edge of his bed, “I've kept you up long enough, I'm sure you're tired. . .”

Before you left his room you turned over your shoulder, a small smile on your face.

“It's really good to see you again, Sirius,” you said earnestly, “we should catch up for real later.”

“Definitely,” he said, a bit of his old self reflected in that smirk of his, albeit forced.

You steeled yourself, turning the doorknob and closing the door behind you gently before you did something to ruin the friendship you had just gotten back after over a decade. You shook the thought aside, your head hurting. You really did need to sleep after today.

You were about to head into your room, but something in you didn't feel quite right. You'd definitely heard someone go down the stairs, but you hadn't heard the front door open or close. Dread pooled in your stomach at your gut feeling, and you found yourself inexplicably making your way back down the stairs.

The house was eerily silent now that its residents had either gone off to bed or disapparated until the next meeting in a few days time. You'd left Sirius upstairs, and you knew Harry was staying here for the time being until school began, but everyone else had gone home. So then why did you still feel someone else's presence so acutely?

You stared at the empty hallway leading to the front door, taking a cautious step forward; the image in front of you didn't feel real. The colors were too saturated, the edges too sharp, and the surfaces too smooth. And that's when it hit you. The smell of rain. Leather-bound books. Lavender.

You froze, staring at the seemingly empty space in front of you.

“Severus?”

The potions master didn't dare make a sound, thinly veiled behind his invisibility charm but clearly not well enough. He was standing not three feet in front of you, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last thing he would ever see.

He panicked slightly as he felt you reach out to him with your mind, shutting himself off expertly. Your hurt expression as you were unable to detect anything pained him, but he wouldn't dare think that he deserved to say anything to you. What was there to say after everything he'd done?

Your gaze roamed the empty hall, and for a moment he could have sworn you stared him right in the eyes.

You knew he was there.

The moment lasted no longer than a second before you looked away, turning to go back up the stairs. As soon as your back was facing the front door you heard it open then close gently, and the tears you had been fighting to hold back finally spilled over.

Read chapter 4 here !

Taglist: @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi

137 notes · View notes

jiminrings · 3 years

Note

why do i feel like even if tae is the one who's injured AND caught between stem koo and senior oc's tension, jungkook would STILL be the one who's crying

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

there's fINALLY some sort of peace and redemption between them

taehyung has never been indirectly involved in a palpable situation like this

the last time he was involved in anything remotely close to this, it had something to do with his field trip in second grade

whew god that was a rEALLY pressuring experience for him

it was a split vote to whether they should go to a strawberry field or a newly-opened futuristic kid-friendly interactive dinosaur museum SLASH theme park!!!!!!!

then taehyung picked the strawberry farm that was about 70% dirt

tae's put into a situation again and he doesn't know how to act lmao

"y'okay sweetheart? what's your relation to them?" the kind nurse that's obviously the maternal figure of the emergency ward asks him as she assesses him, a bit of a queue before he could get his leg patched up

he is beyond glad that she asked :D

tae's here to get his leg casted and entertain himself for the meantime!!! his fun isn't exactly correlated to that brooding fucking stem nerd's definition of it!!!

taehyung points to you directly, a cheeky grin on his face as you tilt your head in alert from your seat beside him

"she's my girlfriend!"

you chuckle at his playfulness and even the nurse does so with how proud he sounded, about to scribble it down on her clipboard when someone clearly sounds panicked about it

"she's not his girlfriend," jungkook rises from his slouched position on his seat, wide eyes fixated on the nurse as he shakes his head, trying to make her believe him

it isn't true!!!! that's misinformation!!! that's a crime!!!!

tae snaps his fingers, solemnly shaking his head

"right, my bad!! the two of us aren't in a relationship. actually, the three-..."

god oW

jungkook can't help but whack the back of taehyung's head, their boundary from being semi-strangers in your year you see like twice a day now crossing into semi-friends who aren't reserved with each other jUST because of kook's smack

that's a silent understanding, basically

tae smacks jungkook right back, only stopping on bickering when you intentionally clang your watch on the bedframe to spook them, exiting from the curtain so you could talk with the nurse

being caught in the middle of things cOULD really be fun!!! tae should get involved more often

"so tHIS is why you were outside y/n's dorm when i gave yoongi the cookies!!"

"... you know?"

kook freezes at the possibility that for some way he can't think of, taehyung somehow knows what happened between the two of you

was that why he just hAPPENED to drop by cookies when he was talking with yoongi??

yeah uhm not really

"no. i just know that yoongi hung you out to dry," he snorts because as he recalls it, jungkook looked as pale as a ghost

he didn't really plan to arrive at that time either!!! taehyung just wanted to knock on your door and hopefully drop you his treats then he'll be off his way

he didn't exactly expect to walk in on yoongi looking like he's gonna deck jungkook if only he hadn't yelled out his senior's name

see? it's like the universe just wants taehyung to be at the right places at the wrong times in order for them to eventually fall into place

okay he kinda did take a major L for having his ankle busted but that only means that you and jungkook (even if he doesn't know anything) better make up!!!

“is it bad that i wanted yoongi to punch me that time?” jungkook wonders out loud and he almost wishes he hadn’t, getting an immediate reaction of agreement

“i’ll fill in for him!!” tae half-jokes, getting yet another smack to his shoulder and at that rate, they’d be brothers by tomorrow lmao

“anyways,” he sighs as he leans back to his pillow, keeping his foot elevated. technically, this isn’t his business at all, but what could he do?? he’s sort-of-involved now and jungkook looks like he’s gonna cry out of all people, “you just want yoongi to deck you because that’d absolve you of your guilt.”

kook sighs at that, gripping his hair to keep himself from crying

“but i already know i’m guilty. not only with yoongi, but y/n especially!!”

he whistles at that, getting a mental image with your fists balled because he’s hung around enough practices to photograph all of you for the school paper, knowing that you dO pack a lot of power

“so them decking you is the only way you would feel guiltless?”

jungkook shifts at that, murmuring his answer to the question he’s got thrown

“w-well getting my apology accepted by them would be much appreciated.”

taehyung practically spoon-feeds the answer jungkook need to hear, shrugging carelessly as he watches the boy’s turmoil

god what does he dO?? this is his first interaction with you ever since the incident and he doesn’t know how to act

of all places and scenarios, it just hAD to be in the hospital because stoopid taehyung here decided to run to you while in the rain

as if on cue do you return to the curtained area with a nurse, forms between your fingers

“time to get your x-ray done, tae,” you almost sing-song to him in cheer, being relieved that things were picking up faster than you intended it to

you pat him on the head in an attempt at affection, oblivious to the curious glances that jungkook gives you while he assists the nurse in transferring taehyung to the wheelchair

it’s not until the curtain closes again and taehyung’s gone that you move, hand outstretched to give something to jungkook

.... which is just his share of taehyung’s forms that he needed to fill out so you could get on faster

the two of you are sitting beside each other, chairs close but not exactly close, clipboard in hand and taehyung’s phone at the middle edge of the hospital bed so you could copy his information

jungkook kNOWS he should be focusing on writing tae’s blood type right now, but the spur of the moment nudges him on entirely

"i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry."

he squeaks and he has to breathe out after that

well there it goes :-)

you knew that the day wouldn’t have finished without jungkook’s input, having avoided him long enough that you didn’t know what to feel

were you expecting an apology from him??? uhm not exactly

are you commending him for apologizing??? not at all!! thanking someone for apologizing over what they’ve done to you in the first place is just a new low

“i know i can’t take back what i said now, but i truly didn’t mean it. i-i was just so confused but — b-but i’m not making excuses!! what i did was beyond shitty of me.”

oh hold on a second

that’s the first time you heard jungkook cuss

you wring your hands as you try to absorb his apology as much as possible without feeling awkward

ok you’re not as good for tHIS type of confrontation

it’s not the first time you’ve been wronged but this is perhaps the first time someone owned up to their wrong and apologize for it face-to-face

,,,,,, and not just because yoongi gave them a piece of his mind

yoongi likes fighting battles for you at times, even if you don’t necessarily ask him to

you appreciate it, but you kNOW he did not get jungkook off the hook so easily!!!!

you honestly thought that with his temper, he would’ve punched jungkook even if it was gonna make you mad

“it’s totally up to you if you don’t want to forgive me, b-but i figured i could die trying, y’know? you can reject me a couple hundred times and i’ll retry a couple thousand.”

jungkook adds and it makes the corner of your mouth raise in the tiniest most miniscule way

he knows that not only does he need to apologize with words, he also nEEDS to make it up to you with his actions!!! that’s why he plans on-

you pause your writing on the form, the act of you doing so making him freeze all the same as you try to carry on with speaking as inaudible as possible

"well you know now. i like you, that was my fault," you offer in response to his apology, coughing when you realize your mistake. "i liked you, i mean."

ok he deserved that

jungkook knows you probably figured out the hyeji situation already through yoongi, cutting his explanations down because you don’t even wanna hear her name

was it the truth? do you really not like jungkook anymore?

....

......

.........

you simmer in the own silence you’ve created, only being broken when jungkook shyly murmurs

"can't you like me some more?"

you snort at what seemed to be his playful suggestion, chuckling to yourself

jungkook was only hALF-kidding and he bows his head in embarrassment over your reaction, the pen in his hand feeling extremely light with how his hand’s trembling

you resume your writing wordlessly, not even daring to look at your right because jungkook’s trying to make himself as small as possible too

the words are just dying to fall out from his mouth, an unhinged trap he could no longer regulate when it comes to you

"you're loveable. extremely loveable."

jungkook says out of nowhere and you falter at writing taehyung’s supposed food allergies, a quiet curiosity to your words

"how would you know that?"

there’s no thought process behind it as he speaks surely this time, only taking the slightest bit of courage to look at you from the corner of his eye

"because it's you."

,,,,,

HOW are you supposed to react to that,,,

the curtains peek open and a grinning taehyung on a wheelchair estatically waves his hand

you and jungkook split from each other even if you haven’t been that close enough immediately, thankful for the welcome interruption

tae outstretches his arms for you to hoist him up the bed and you agree instantly, oblivious to the fact that he’s sticking his tongue out to jungkook who’s giving him a mean glare for his playfulness

his x-rays are all finished and he’s just waiting for the doc to come and interpret them (even if it’s beyond obvious that his ankle’s broken!!!!) so he could get on with wrapping his leg with a cast

jungkook takes this as a chance to rise up from his seat, snatching the opportunities he can within the timeframe

"what do you guys want from the cafeteria?"

tae beams at that, grateful because fINALLY someone’s asked him

"ooh!! i want-"

"what would you like, y/n?"

jungkook continues as he effectively interrupts taehyung who’s squinting and looks beyond offended ay the moment

his motive is buying <3 you <3 dinner!! not mr. ankle-breaker over here

you catch on to what he’s trying to do immediately, rolling your eyes with a hint of amusement when you plop back to your chair

“i'll have what taehyung wants.”

huh....

so he has no choice then but to ask,.,.,

jungkook clears his throat, his lips curved to a smile but his eyes looking the furthest thing from friendly

"what would you like,,,, taehyung?"

the boy pretend to be deep in thought just to waste kook’s time even more, even throwing in the humming to sell the idea

he’s been humming for half a minute now

“pasta. i want pasta. like, the most expensive pasta they have,” he nods at the amazement he has for himself, sneaking a look to a narrow-eyed jungkook

“c’mon, kook. think about y/n. she’s getting what i’m getting!!”

jungkook’s eyes instantly become brighter, realization sweeping over his features as he tries to hurry because you might be hungry at this point

“right, of course!! i’ll even get dessert :D”

well wasn’t tHAT easy hee-hee

hey maybe getting your ankle busted does lead to better things!!!

jungkook’s never been more excited to pay for overpriced pasta in cash (!!!) and carry up multiple paper bags of food and drinks on the stairs because the elevator’s taking too long

he’s only slightly confused when he walks to your spot that taehyung wasn’t there, even kinda being relieved actually

tae was whisked away for the second and final time to have his leg wrapped up, leaving you and jungkook alone once again

“that looks expensive.”

you remark the moment you see the fancy paper bags, bringing your wallet out to atleast take out a few bills that you think would cover the cost for this hospital dinner

jungkook incessantly shakes his head no, instead making you sit in place so he could turn the area to be a cozy dinner place as best as he could

"i mean it. i'm gonna make it up to you, i swear."

he speaks sometime in the middle of your silent meal, waiting for the time that it’d feel more sincere and not a little forced

ya know he didn’t want to make it seem that buying overpriced dinners correspond to him making it up to you!!!!

"i know."

you answer truthfully because you might have saw this coming, knowing in the back of your head that you wouldn’t put put it past jungkook to be sincere

you hear a noise of surprise when you reply, jungkook immediately putting his hand inside the pocket of his hoodie to fish out something

“your eyedrops, by the way. i meant to give it back to you earlier.”

your eyes skim on the dainty-looking handmade origami box on jungkook’s palm, a fond look he could atleast distinguish

you take it from him nonetheless, unaware at the multiple layers you have yet to know inside said box

“i can always buy a new one.”

he shakes his head at that, scrunching his nose as he mindlessly pokes at the chicken

he thinks back to what he put inside that might’ve been the reason why he didn’t just buy you a new stock in the first place

“i like giving back.”

giving back as in returing feelings too or whatever maybe!!!!! just maybe

he waves you off when you thank him for giving it back, his next words becoming a little weighted on your mind

"open it up when you feel like it. it's up to you."

that was that then

okay maybe not

you’re almost finished with your dinner and you know that you’re about to come home anyway, getting a text from tae that he’s done being wrapped up and is just waiting for his reminders now

why not say what you want to anyway??

"thank you for the lunchbox yesterday, by the way."

jungkook’s the one who’s caught off-guard this time, choking on his rice briefly before questioning you wITHOUT looking pathetic

"h-how did you know it was me??"

your hand only skims to the right of him, having to slightly lean against him to get what you need

it’s tae's record that jungkook had to fill up

you’ve just realized it a little while ago when jungkook was downstairs buying from the cafeteria, the distinct way of how he writes his A’s and curves his Y’s being embedded into your mind

"because it's you."

#REDEMPTION ARC BABIEEEE FEEDBACK PLS AND THANK U WHAT DO YOU WANNA SEE NEXT UPDATE #stem koo #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook au #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fic #jungkook college au #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst

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