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angsty-twihardxx · 2 years ago

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Hi Victoria!

I was wondering if you can write female reader with Tommy Miller. They somehow meet at Jackson and they develop a relationship. The reader is inexperienced and Tommy suggests that the reader does dry humping on his thigh since reader isn’t ready to have sex with him. While reader does this there is nipple play and he gives reader hickeys.

Also, I’m sorry if the way I requested this is weird I’m not good at writing out requests😅

A/N: omg! I absolutely loved this! Just fyi I was drinking wine when I wrote this so completely self indulgent ngl. This is my first lil request so I hope I make you proud! Also I haven’t really written a lot of smut so don’t know how good it’ll be, but anything for this sexy Texan x

Warnings: 18+ only! HELLA SMUT. This is basically filth.

@garbinge thought you might enjoy this as well (If you would like to be added to my Tommy Miller tag list lemme know) x

Come checkout my masterlist for more Tommy Miller fics here

RIDING LESSONS | T. MILLER

You were working with the horses the day he came through the gate, you were taking off one of the horses saddles when you saw him for the first time. Snow had just began to fall, a thin layer of white covering the ground. His dark-coal hair stood out from the white sky as it sat near his shoulders, his moustache covering his nearly blue lips.

Even though he was covered in layers of clothing you could tell that he was strong, his biceps hugging the fabric. His shoulders were broad, covered with a thick denim jacket.

Your face went red in embarrassment as his golden brown eyes locked onto yours, but before you could advert your eyes he sent a warm smile your way. It was quick and sweet the way it all happened, nothing out of the ordinary it seemed on the outside. Not knowing that each other’s heart picked up a few more beats per second, Tommy was no longer worried about the chill on his fingertips. Instantly for no apparent reason his mind told him to walk up to you and introduce himself.

But before he could take a step towards you he was swooped away by Maria for a tour.

Growing up in Jackson, you were never interested in dating. You spent most of your teens busy surviving from infected to worry about what boys looked cute. You guessed without thinking you continued that way of thinking, even though growing to be a mature woman and living in a safe commune where you could live a ‘normal life’. Like many other people your age were finding partners, getting married and having kids you continued to work and keep yourself busy.

Since Tommy arrived, he had worked hard to find you again. He hoped he would patrol so he would have an excuse to go to the stables and talk to you. But no luck, he had been working non stop helping patch up some buildings before the snow was at its heaviest. He had been installing a new roof on one of the shops when he saw you walking along the streets with some crates.

Even though you were wrapped in a thick coat and your hair was covered in a beanie, he still recognised you. Standing up Tommy told the others he’d be back.

You were trying to carry more than one crate at once, even though your arms weren’t long enough to do so you still tried. ‘Your a stubborn one’ he thought to himself as he got closer. Fog flew from your mouth as you huffed in frustration.

You jumped when you felt another hand brush past yours and lift the crates out of your arms. “You're alright, I got it.” You blushed, as he flashed you that same smile when you first saw him, it never failed to send you butterflies. “Thank you—“ You dragged, realising that you in fact hadn’t figured his name yet.

“—Tommy.” He finished for you, his Texan accent made your stomach do somersaults. “Where you want these darlin’?”

“Oh, just drop them off at the bar thank you. Got some orders to drop off today.” You tried your best to compose yourself, usually when men in town would flirt you would let them down softly. Say the usual line, sorry not interested. But this man you had barely met had you intrigued.

“Y’need any help?” Tommy placed the boxes down for you with ease then resting his fists on his hips as his eyes landed on you again. You couldn’t help but pause again, the way his muscles formed under the sleeves of his shirt. Or how his hair stuck to his ivory skin, even though it was absolutely freezing he still had broken a sweat. There was just something about his eyes on you that made you melt into a puddle.

“Uh yeah sure, if you're not busy. But I was going to have a bite to eat first if you wanted to join me?”

. . .

It was nearing Christmas and you and Tommy were getting pretty serious. Doing all the things that couples do, he spent so much time at your house anyway he basically lived there so that transition went smoothly. You went on dates, amazing ones.

Just a few weeks ago he had taken you on the horse out to a secret lookout he had found on his travels. And to say it was beautiful was an understatement, he found a spot and the two of you sat near the edge of the high cliffs and watched the water. You hadn’t ever really been outside of Jackson much, you never really had a reason too. “Maybe I’ll take you out further next time, find a nice little place to camp for the night.” He told you, draping his arm to hang loosely over your shoulders. It was relaxing, being with him you never felt any pressure to do anything you didn’t want to.

“I think I’d like that.” You responded honestly, never would you of gone out here with any of the other boys you dated. But from some of the stories he told you about himself, you knew that he’d take care of you.

And he did extremely well, a part of you felt bad that you couldn’t do more, when it came to being in a relationship. Sexually that is. But you couldn’t stop the anxious feeling you got whenever the subject was mentioned. ‘What if I’m not good enough at it? What if it hurts? What if he gets sick of waiting?’ That was your biggest fear, so you had a plan to lose your virginity.

Everyone had been working hard to pull together a big dinner for everyone, roast chickens from the pen inside the compound and lots of vegetables. There was even kids playing along the street by the giant Christmas tree. They had been doing this here since they had the supplies for it so this was something you were used to. Tommy on the other hand, looked taken aback. “What do you think?”

“I haven’t seen anything like it in years.” He smiled as his hand squeezed yours in reassurance, that he was happy. You knew that he had left his brother in Boston QZ, so you understood that this was going to be hard for him. You hoped you could do a good job of distracting him tonight, after dinner.

As soon as Tommy closed the door behind you, both of you stripped off your coats. The fireplace was blaring heat throughout the home. You were taking off your boots when a pair of hands spun you around. Tommy wrapped his arms around you and placed a chaste kiss on your lips. “Thanks for tonight baby. I loved it.” He spoke softly, his eyes softening as he smiled.

You took this as your chance, you moved in for another kiss. Except now you pushed onto his lips harder, wanting to fill the space between you. Wrapping your arms around his neck you moaned into his mouth, his rough hands danced up your spine, sending you goosebumps. Tommy was surprised at the way you leaped onto him, not that he was complaining.

Tommy was expecting to have a quiet night in, the two of you huddled up on the sofa and you reading to him the newest book he found for you on his last patrol. He thought he was going to fall asleep in your lap, and he would have been happy with that.

Not that he complained when you grasped his wrist in your hand and dragged him up the hallway and pinned him against the closed door, kissing him fevently.

As his lips dragged down along your jaw, Tommy took another step forward. The two of you moving past the door, you let out a small gasp as the back of your knee met with the soft fabric of your bed. ‘Holy shit you're actually going to do this?’ You tried to ignore that part of your brain as your body instinctively fell backwards into the mattress.

Tommy soon followed, climbing over the top of you has his chest hovered just a few centimetres above you. His shoulder length hair curtaining you from the outside world, you were safe here— just the two of you. Your fingers laced through his curls and tugged on them, needing him as close to you as possible.

Then why did you feel so uneasy? Maybe it was meant to feel that way, a friend of yours telling you when you're close to an orgasm you can feel it in your stomach. Was this it?

“What’s the matter baby? Y’alright?” He pulled back, noticing how your body began to stiffen underneath him.

You sighed, annoyed with yourself. “I just- I wanted to try and go all the way. But I-I dont think I’m ready.” You dropped your gaze, an annoyed huff leaving your mouth.

“And I told you I’m more than happy to wait for you baby, why are you so worried about it all of a sudden?” His frown deepened at your lack of silence, his hand moving to gently pull a piece of hair behind your ear.

God he loved you, and he would do whatever it took to make sure you knew that. He would wait as long as it took. He never wanted you to think that you had to rush into anything with him, he would wait forever.

“I just don’t want you to get bored with me.”

Tommy’s eyes softened, which you hated. That look that made you feel like a child, the same pitiful look that everyone gave you when they heard about your sex life— or lack thereof.

“Darlin’ I could never get bored of you. Trust me, I’m happy to wait as long as you need too.”

“I want to— I just want to go slow.” Your cheeks warmed, at the tension pooling in your underwear. You weren’t stupid, you grew up around your share of horny teens who never stopped talking about sex. Even growing up your friends told you about their experiences, what it felt like. You just haven’t met someone that you wanted to do it with, until now.

Your body reacted in a way you never experienced before when you met Tommy. He made you want to try new things, when his large hands lingered on your skin it made you want to do all the things you read about. Especially because Tommy was so much more experienced than you, feeling a bit inadequate when he told you how different he was before the outbreak. Not that he ever deliberately made you feel bad, he made it his mission to make sure you were comfortable.

“Well how about we try somethin’ else, yeah?” He flashes a playful grin your way as you nod. Cocking your head to the side, confused what else there was to do? “Why don’t you take those off for me sweetheart?”

He indicates to your pants, you pause up and look at him, innocence and confusion written all over your face. “You trust me baby?” You nodded again, your mouth failing you. “I need your words sweetheart.”

“‘Course I trust you.” That was all Tommy needed because he was up off the bed in a heartbeat, he reached his hand out to you which you took. As your feet landed on the wooden floor you quickly made work to throw your pants on the ground, leaving you in just your shirt and underwear.

You thought you had a pretty decent idea about sex, until you saw Tommy move to sit on the edge of the bed. Tommy noticed your confusion and gently patted his thigh. “Come take a seat darlin, I got lots of ways to make you feel good.”

You felt the same tingling in between your legs as he spoke, there was something so dirty about it that made you feel good.

Tommy helped you as you moved to sit on his thigh. He grasped onto your hips and held onto you firmly, you wrapped your arms over his neck again for stability. You tried to act like you hadn’t noticed his erection throbbing under you.

“Now I’ll help you alright darlin’? Just watch what I’m doing.” He whispered into your ear as his grip on you tightened. Your hips grind slowly onto the denim pants that he wore, he moved you slowly. You closed your eyes as the friction on your clothed pussy had your stomach in knots, this was the feeling your friend was talking about.

“You feel good baby?” Tommy’s voice was like a dream for you as his hands still worked your hips on him, his worries dissipated as you mewled into his shoulder. “‘Feels like fireworks.” You gasped, your eyes squeezed shut.

“That’s good baby, y’reckon you could do it yourself?” Tommy looked up at you earnestly, his eyes glued on your face as the pleasure pooled in your stomach. You nodded vigorously, concentrating on moving your hips at a steady pace. Tommy groaned as you leaned harder onto him, his hot breath on your ear had your hips snapping.

“Lean back baby.” He breathed, helping you as you did so. His cock twitching in his pants at the sight of you. Your head tipped back as your mouth fell open, the sounds that were falling out of your mouth was going to make him bust in any minute. Without hesitation he ripped off the button up you had on, you were too busy anyway to scold him for ruining your one nice shirt.

His calloused hands made quick work to cup your breasts as they bobbed with every snap of your hips. “Let’s take this off shall we? Keep going baby, doin’ so good for me.”

Hearing him praise you like that had you weak, your rutts had quickened with your uneven pace. You could feel your stomach tightening with every passing second. A part of you wondered why you were so nervous when something like this could feel so good.

You simply lifted up your arms, letting Tommy take off the bra for you. Shuddering as the cold air reached your now hardened nipples, but was quickly erased as you felt his lips on them, using his tongue to capture the hardened bud. His other hand kneading your breasts, you felt like you were going to explode.

“Tommy I-I think—“

“Y’gonna come for me darlin’?” Tommy already knew the answer as your breath hitched, using this as his time to move his attention to the other side. You didn’t know how much longer you could go, all the pressure inside you was looking and you couldn’t hold on much longer. The way Tommy’s hands attacked at your breasts in an animalistic way you had never seen before, you loved the way his rough hands felt on you.

You needed him everywhere.

Tommy somehow understood the best way to make you unravel on top of him. “C’mon baby come for me.” His hand travelled to the back of your neck, pulling you back against his chest. His mouth attacked at the skin of your neck this time, sucking on the soft nape and leaving red angry marks along your beautiful neck. He fucken loved the thought of the two of you walking into town and everyone being able to see his handiwork all over your body, they would all know that you're his.

Just the thought of it had your body shake as the pressure in your stomach snapped, your orgasm coursing through your body. “Oh my god Tommy!” You cried out, all you could see was white as your hips shook uncontrollably on top of his, your entire body shuddering against him.

“That’s it baby good girl.” He praised you again, pressing his mouth to leave another hickey on your neck. Not that you would notice, still coming down from your high you could barely hear a word coming from Tommy as your ears rang.

Gently, he lifted you up to place you down on the bed and lay beside you, watching as your chest raised quickly and fell just as fast. If it weren’t for the smile on your face he would be worried that he’d taken it too far. His hand softly brushed against your arm, his touch now soft and gentle, like the last twenty minutes didn’t happen. “How was that baby?” He asked softly, as if deep down he was still a little bit conscious.

“That was amazing.”

“I can tell, made such a mess on my jeans.” He smiles devilishly at you.

#tommy miller #tommy miller smut #tommy miller tlou #tommy miller fic #tommy miller fanfic #tommy miller x y/n #tommy miller fluff #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x reader #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #hbo the last of us

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aimless-imagines-for-fun · 4 years ago

Text

Racing Heart

Pairing :: Clark Kent x short/petite fem!Reader

Warnings :: Smut, Size Kink

Word Count :: 4,265

Summary :: You never knew why, but whenever you were around Clark, your heart always raced.

A/N :: Just an fyi, I used Henry Cavill’s Clark Kent, but I used the comic book height of Clark, which is 6′3′’, versus Henry’s 6′1′’

You never quite understood why, all you knew was that your heart always started racing when you were close to Clark. It wasn’t whenever you saw him, or when you were just in the same room as him. It was only when you were able to notice how small you were compared to the 6’3’’ man.

There were many occasions when this happened. Whenever Clark hugged you, helped you grab something on a top shelf, or even when he was standing so close to you, you two almost touched, your heart began racing. It had gotten to the point where you went out of your way to avoid getting close to the man, making sure you were always on the opposite side of the room from him.

There were three specific times though that made your face heat up just thinking about them.

The first one was in the break room.

You had managed to open the cabinet doors right above the refrigerator, but were struggling to grab the box of plastic utensils. You always forgot to bring a fork or spoon from home for your lunch, though you never had to worry about it because The Daily Planet had some. Of course, in an office full of tired reporters, others were bound to forget their utensils as well, and thus the box that was placed on the counter was now empty.

You stood on your tippy-toes, fingers barely grazing the corner of the box. The heels your wore offered no help, only adding a mere inch and a half to your height. You open the cabinet with ease, and a huff of annoyance left you when you saw the box of forks was on the second shelf. You had grown so frustrated, you began hopping just to try and hit the box that you now believed was taunting you. However, your hopping was working, as you managed to hit the corner repeatedly to make the box slowly come out. You didn’t care if you were wearing a skirt. It ended right before your knees and you were wearing black tights so it was fine.

You just needed one more good hop and you knew you’d be able to grab the box. You bent your knees only slightly, and then-

“Do you need some help?” A deep kind voice asked, followed by a large hand reaching past you and grabbing the box.

You whipped your entire body around, now facing a tie and button-down plaid shirt. You tilted your head up, seeing the man from Kansas, Clark Kent. He was giving you one of his classic golden boy smiles, looking down at you.

You gave him a small smile in return, and you could feel your heartbeat begin to grow faster. Perhaps Clark sneaking up behind you startled you, and he seemed to notice.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I just saw you were struggling for a bit,” He commented, holding the box out for you.

You grabbed it, thanking him quietly before a small idea popped into your head. “Were you watching me?”

You swore you saw a small tint on Clark’s cheeks as he let out a cough to clear his throat. “Um, no, I had walked by earlier and saw you struggling then, and, well, when I came back I saw you were still here so I decided to help.”

You let out a small giggle. “I’m teasing Clark.”

You saw him visibly ease up, letting out a small exhale. Little did you know he had been staring at you for a small while before he helped you. Watching you hop up and down had brought a small smile of amusement to his face.

The second one was in the supply room.

Some people bought their supplies, and that was their stash. Others, such as yourself, helped themselves to the abundance of the supply room. What you had just ran out of only moments ago were sticky notes. You used them quite often, not only for notes but also for little drawings you did to pass the time. As a matter of fact, your entire desk was nearly covered with either small memos or doodles of random characters.

The sticky notes, unfortunately, were located on the top shelf. To add to your bad luck, there was also no stepping stool or ladder. Now, you could’ve been rational and go get someone taller to help. ‘Nah, I got this,’ you thought as you carefully began to climb up on the shelves. You believed in your climbing abilities, even in your heels. Admittedly, it was a bit awkward trying to grip onto the shelves, and the heels of your feet were hanging off, but you felt secure enough.

You reached the top shelf with relative ease, only needing to step up two shelves. Then came the matter of the box of sticky notes that had yet to be open. There was no way you could open the box to grab the small number of notepads you needed, not without both hands though. You could throw the box down, but what were the chances of it breaking open and creating a mess? ‘I really should’ve thought this one through a little better,’ you regretted.

Busy thinking of how to get the sticky notes down(along with how often you found yourself in this sort of ‘you’ve made your bed now lay in it’ situations you’ve been in) you didn’t notice the door open and close once again. “(Y/N)?”

“Wha- Ah!” You let out a squeal, losing your balance from being pulled from your train of thought. Your eyes widened and your heart froze, feeling your feet slip off along with your grip.

You squeezed your eyes shut, ready for the oncoming impact from the floor, along with the pain. Thankfully, the person who had caused your fall was quick enough to save you. Instead of feeling the hard tiled floor, you felt a pair of strong arms catch you. They held you close, almost squeezing you a bit too tight, but you felt safe in the embrace. You opened your eyes, blinking a few times to make sure you were indeed okay. You looked up to see who had caught you, your (e/c) eyes locking with blue ones behind a frame of glasses.

There was a clear worried look on Clark’s face. “You need to be careful (Y/N), you can’t just climb up shelves. If you need help, ask for it,” He continued to scold you, but you couldn’t focus on a thing he was saying.

Your heart was pounding, though you thought it was from the adrenaline of almost falling, and your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t listen to him with him still holding you, it was all your mind was focused on. His grip on you was frim, and you were so close to him you could smell his cologne, citrus with a hint of musk. You always knew you were petite in build, but being held like this made you feel tiny. ‘His arms are so big. Am I really this small? He doesn’t look like he’s struggling at all. When does he have the time to work out? How-’

“(Y/N) are you even listening to a thing I’m saying?”

You blinked once, looking at him with big eyes. “Um… You’re still holding me…” You pointed out, a small blush coming to your cheeks. Unable to look at him any longer, your eyes darted down, missing his flustered face.

He put you down quickly, apologizing, and you told him not to just as quickly in response. After, you thanked him and rushed out without even taking a single sticky note with you. Later on in the day though, when you had walked away and returned to your desk, there were two sticky note pads on your desk.

The third one was at a charity event.

You and Clark were assigned to the event together as it was a rather large event. The money being raised was for meta-human teens and children, to help them better understand their abilities safely.

After hearing the guest list, you knew you had to wear the one forest green dress you wore to every fancy event. It was the nicest, and expensive, dress you owned. You paired it with three-inch black heels and a simple opal pendant. You never like dressing up too much. Clark wore a simple muted dark brown suit, with a navy blue button-up and blue tie to match it.

Now, it was rather tricky to keep your distance from Clark this time, and you really didn’t want to get flustered during work. Before it was at work, now it would be during work. There was a difference, granted a small difference, but still, a difference. At work, you just minded your business, and on occasion, goofing off when you weren’t writing an article. Here you were supposed to be interviewing and taking notes of everything happening. You couldn’t miss something important because Clark wanted to dance and you couldn’t keep your mind straight after. He didn’t ask you to dance, but, if he did you’d refuse.

“So, Mr. Wayne, Mr. Queen-”

“Please, call me Oliver,” The blond said.

Before you stood Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen. You were intending to speak to Mr. Wayne alone, but just as you approached him, Mr. Queen also got to him. You were about to apologize and walk away, however, Mr. Queen, or rather, Oliver, insisted you interviewed them together. You had to admit, it was rather nice having Oliver around as Mr. Wayne, even though he was known as a playboy, gave you a rather intimidating aura.

You began interviewing the two, asking them the same questions you had asked all the millionaires, but ended up talking with them and enjoying it. Mr. Wayne wasn’t as intimidating as he had seemed, and Oliver was rather humorous. It was clear to you the two were friends.

You were in the middle of laughing at a joke Oliver had told when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. You turned your head, seeing Clark, standing right beside you with a smile.

“Well you most certainly are having a good time,” He commented before turning his attention to the men in front of you. “Mr. Wayne, Mr. Queen, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He reached out with his free hand to shake theirs.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well…” Mr. Wayne’s voice trailed off as he looked down at Clark’s badge from the daily planet, “...Mr. Kent.”

“Call me Oliver,” He said as he shook your coworker’s hand. “I take it you two were sent together?”

“Yes,” You said in sync.

The conversation continued, and the entire time Clark kept his arm around your shoulders. You nodded along, even humming a few times in response to make it appear as if you were listening as your mind wandered. ‘Why is my heart racing? Why is he still holding me? Should I say something? What if I seem rude? I don’t want him to let go though.’ Even though you didn’t want to acknowledge it, you knew there was a small part of you that always liked how petite you were compared to Clark.

Then, you felt his thumb begin to rub small circles onto your bare shoulder. Without thinking, you slowly leaned into his larger frame. Now, you couldn’t see it because you were still looking ahead at the two millionaires, but Clark glanced down at you, happy you had come closer.

You couldn’t avoid Clark forever though, despite your best efforts.

You walked down the sidewalk, holding four large reusable grocery bags each full to the brim. You lived alone, but you liked to shop in bulk so you wouldn’t have to go out often. You were struggling a fair amount though. Normally, you had a friend who’d come with you to help you out and then the two of you would hang out. Sadly, all your friends were busy for the next few days and you were beginning to run out of your favorite conditioner, not to mention you were low on food.

You didn’t drive to the grocery store either, adding to your struggle. It was only three blocks away, why waste gas? You wouldn’t be struggling much longer though.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” A male voice called out.

You stopped, eyes darting everywhere to find the owner of the voice. It took you a moment until you eventually spotted Clark in front of you, a good distance away.

“Oh, hi Clark!” You placed two of the bags down to give him a large arm wave.

It took him a moment to get to you, and when he did he looked down at your groceries puzzled. “That seems like a lot for one person to carry.”

“Yeah, I tend to bite off more than I can chew.”

“I’ve noticed,” He said with a chuckle. “Do you want some help?”

You shook your head. “No. I couldn’t possibly drag you away from your day off to help me.”

“It wouldn’t be a hassle at all,” He reassured you. “Plus, it’d eat at me all day knowing I left you struggling.”

Knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer, you let out a sigh, agreeing to his help. He took three of the bags, leaving you with the one bag filled with two bags of chips, three loaves of bread, and two dozen eggs. You tried to hold two bags, make the work even between the two of you, but he insisted. He tried to carry the bag you held as well, but you were adamant you held at least one.

Walking down to your apartment complex, the two of you mainly talked about work. At least you did, and Clark more so listened. This was the first time your heart didn’t start racing as you stood next to him, probably because you wouldn’t shut up about the deadline for your new article. You refused to look up at him, eyes fixed only on what was in front of you. It didn’t take long for the two of you to get to your apartment. You thanked him and told him he could go on with his day, but he insisted he helped you carry the bags up to your apartment.

You were quiet from then on, listening to Clark talk about the building. He lead you all away to your front door, standing patiently for you to unlock your door. Then, it hit you. You noticed his shadow over you as you faced your front door. Your heart quickened a bit, still, you ignored it as you opened your front door.

You speedily guided him to the kitchen to place the groceries down, and just as fast you tried to rush him out. His brows furrowed, confusion written all over his face.

“(Y/N), why are you in such a rush to show me out?”

‘Because I can’t think straight now with you around!’ You thought. Instead, you said to him, “Because I’m tired and I want you to enjoy your day off!”

He didn’t seem to believe you. He stood in front of you, a small frown on his lips. “Do you like me?”

Your eyes widened, mouth left ajar at his question.

“Because sometimes I get the feeling that you don’t like me.”

‘Oh-’ “What- No. I think you’re a great guy Clark.”

“Then why are you always avoiding me?” You didn’t think he had noticed. “Whenever I get close to you, you scurry off, and when you can’t you look uncomfortable.”

Like a child who had just gotten caught, you covered your face, too embarrassed to look at him. You didn’t want to tell him the real reason you were avoiding him, but, you also didn’t want him thinking you disliked him. It was the exact opposite.

“I’m not avoiding you because I don’t like you, Clark,” You said through your hands. You spread apart your fingers so you could look him in the eyes. “I… I avoid you because you’re… you’re so big.”

Now Clark was taken aback, a brow raised. “What?”

With a long exhale, you lowered your hands. “I said, I avoid you because you’re so… so big, and it makes me feel really small, and I can’t think straight.”

“You avoid me because I’m too big, and it makes you feel small, and you can’t think straight?” He repeated.

You nodded.

He was silent for a few seconds, tilting his head to the side. “In a good or bad way?”

“What?”

“In a good or bad way?”

You could feel your face heat up, and it wasn’t the only spot on you beginning to grow warm. Softly, you answered him. “In a good way, I guess.”

Clark took a step closer to you. “So you like the fact that I’m larger than you?”

“Yes, I just-”

“No.” His normally bright blue eyes seemed to darken, his eyes narrowed on you. “I want you to say it.”

You closed your legs closer together, feeling a heat rise in between your thighs. “I like that you’re so much bigger and stronger compared to me.”

Swiftly, Clark scooped you up, hands just beneath your bottom to raise you to his face. With how fast your heart was racing now you were sure he could hear it pounding in your chest.

You looked into his eyes as you carefully took off his glasses and tossed them onto your couch. Then, you placed a hand on each side of his face and gave him a long soft kiss. He returned the kiss gently, though after a few minutes you could tell he wanted more, his kiss began to grow rough.

You had wrapped your legs around him to be more comfortable, giving him a better grip on you. He squeezed your ass and in response you let out a soft moan. He lowered you a bit, only enough for you to feel his growing erection against your fully clothed core. He held your hips close, moving you against him for a bit of friction. You whimpered, lowering your head into his chest and gripping his dark grey shirt.

“Clark, please,” You whined.

“Where’s your bedroom?” He asked, voice deeper than usual.

You pulled your head away from his chest, nodding over in the direction of your bedroom. “Second door to the right,”

Almost hurried, he carried you straight to your bedroom. He stopped right at the edge of your bed, letting go and letting you fall back onto your mattresses. He crawled on top of you, placing a knee between your legs. Gently, he peeled away your clothes, tossing them to the side and leaving you in your underwear. He began peppering kisses around your neck, slowly moving down to your collarbone. As he did, his hand crept its way behind your back and undid the clasp on your bra. He pulled away from his kisses to watch your breasts bounce free, eyes fixed on your bare chest.

Feeling embarrassed, you moved to cover your chest with your hands, but he pinned your hands above your head with one hand.

A low chuckle escaped him. “Aw, are you feeling shy?”

You were about to turn your head away when Clark dipped his head down, capturing your lips again. You could feel his free hand slowly trail up your side, humming as a shiver went down your spine. He cupped your breast firmly, beginning to knead it in his palm.

Small moans left your lips, arching your back, body begging for more. You already knew your panties were wet, and you needed him, but he was still fully clothed. All the while you could feel his denim-covered erection against your thigh.

“Clark,” You groaned against his lips, “It’s not fair.”

He pulled back, brows raised. You struggled to pull your hands free, to no avail.

“You’re still dressed,” You said with a pout.

He gave you an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, how about you take care of that for me?”

He let go of your hands and you eagerly reached for the end of his shirt, pulling it off of him. You almost started drooling seeing him shirtless for the first time. Your hands began to wander around his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles. Your hands wandered down further, to the hem of his pants. Just as you were about to reach for his belt, his hand stopped you.

“You’re not ready yet sweetheart,” He warned you.

“Clark-”

He pressed his mouth against you, silencing you before you could complain. Even though you weren’t allowed to undo his pants, he slid them off with ease and you felt his long hard member pressed against your thigh. You momentarily pulled away to glance down, gasping loudly when you saw his length.

Worried, you looked back up at him. “It’s not going to fit.”

He dipped his head back down to your neck, peppering kisses across your jaw. “That’s why we need to get you ready.”

His hand moved down to your soaked panties, pushing them down so you were completely bare now. Your breathing hitched, feeling him stick in a finger and begin to move it in and out of you slowly. He picked up the pace with his finger, eventually sticking in another and he could already feel your pussy tightening.

You were growing close and he was only fucking you with his fingers. Granted, his hands were larger than yours, so two of his fingers felt much larger than two of your own.

To add on, he lowered himself so his head would be right at your dripping cunt and began sucking on your clit.

“Ah!” Your hands went straight to his hair and began to tug. You were a mess in his hands.

It didn’t take long for your body to shudder and your hips begin to spasm as you hit your high. Clark licked up your pouring juice, humming at your sweet taste. He looked up at you, two fingers remaining and now scissoring inside of you.

“You know, you really should ask for help if you can’t reach something,” He began. “It’s hard trying to hold back when you reach for things in those tight skirts of yours.”

“Well, now you don’t need to hold back,” You teased.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, grabbing his face with one hand and guiding him back to you. You could taste your juices in the kiss, humming in delight.

He pulled his fingers out, your core aching to be filled again. Luckily, you soon felt his already dripping tip at your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself into you and you could feel your walls stretch around him. You nearly cried, your body in a mix of pain and pleasure. Your back arched, breasts pressing against Clark’s chest. Your hands gripped his arms as tight as you could, and you were sure you were digging your nails into him.

It was so much. You could feel your eyes water and tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

Clark kissed your forehead, muttered against it, “Just relax.”

He gave a small moment to adjust, noting how your breathing changed when you had gotten used to him. He pushed himself further in though, and you cursed under your breath, body growing tense again.

Again, he gave you a moment to adjust, despite how painfully tight your walls clamped around him. He pulled out a small amount before pushing back in, bucking his a few times to get you used to him. Eventually, your quiet whimpers turned into small moans.

“M-more,” You breathed out, breath shaky.

Like a switch had been flipped in him, Clark pulled out almost all the way and speared you, no longer as gentle as he had been before. He did this again and again, going a little harder each time at a constant rhythm. Then, with one thrust you shouted his name loudly and your cunt squeezed around his cock.

“Ah! Clark again! Right there, please!” You begged him.

Knowing he had found your g-spot, he pulled out all the way this time and pounded that same spot, earning another cry of pleasure from you. He did this repeatedly now with a faster rhythm, leaving you gasping and clenching with each thrust. With each of your breaths growing ragged, it was clear you were both close to your release.

You wrapped a leg around his hips to try and bring him closer, and he gripped your thigh harshly. He squeezed it so tightly, you were sure there’d be a faint bruise.

With a few more thrusts, you shuddered, juices flowing out of you again and around Clark’s cock this time. You swore you heard Clark curse, feeling you squeeze around him and juices cover him.

His rhythm was growing sloppy, and he pumped in and out of you until he let out a low groan of relief. You took a sharp breath, feeling his warm seed enter you. He continued to buck his hips, riding it out until he finally stopped, breath heavy.

He looked at you with now clear eyes and a smile on his face. “So… Do you need help putting your groceries away?” He asked cheekily.

You giggled. “Only if you don’t put anything important on the top shelf.”

“Why not? I’ll be around to help you now.”

#clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent imagine #clark kent smut #superman #superman x reader #superman imagine #superman smut #henry cavill #henry cavill superman #henry cavill clark kent #clark kent fanfic #superman fanfic #clark kent fanfiction #superman fanfiction

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sirikenobi12 · 4 years ago

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War & the Jedi

This will be a long meta rant, FYI.

The Jedi Order, specifically the Prequel era Jedi Order, gets a lot of hate these days particularly regarding their involvement in the Clone Wars. Accusations are tossed at their feet constantly ranging from corruption all the way up to warmongering.

Let’s first look at the Oxford English Dictionary definition of these two accusations, shall we?

Corruption - having or showing a willingness to act dishonestly in return for money or personal gain.

Warmonger - a person who encourages or advocates aggression towards other countries or groups.

The definitions of these two words are so very misunderstood when it comes to relation to the Jedi. If the Jedi are truly “corrupt” then where are the examples of their dishonesty for wealth or personal gain? In fact, I’d argue that canon (and Legends) makes a point to show us that it is the Sith who are in it for personal gain, not the Jedi. The Jedi have absolutely NOTHING to gain from this war on a personal level, in fact they are losing members in terrifying numbers.

The Jedi are also not advocating aggression towards the Separatists, in fact what we see instead is the Jedi DEFENDING against the Separatists. I have yet to see in either canon or legends an instance where the Republic forces invade a Separatist planet who doesn’t have an army or some military involvement (i.e. weapon factories). However, time after time we see the Separatists forcing peaceful planets who want nothing to do with them to either bow to their cause or die (i.e. Ryloth, Lurmen planet, Kiros, Mandalore) the Jedi and Republic Troops will then follow the Separatists to these planets, but they try to do what they can to liberate the planet from the Separaist invasion and then they give the planet the OPTION to join the Republic for safety and economic reasons, but they never force them, as is super evident with Mandalore.

Yet people don’t seem to see this and continue to drag the Jedi through the mud.

Here are the top 5 other “woke” takes I hear -

Jedi are peacekeepers and should not have gotten involved:

First things first, let’s look at the definition of Peacekeeper - a soldier, military force, etc., deployed to maintain or restore peace.

I’d argue by that definition the Jedi were still peacekeepers, it’s true that they weren’t a 3rd party as they normally were before the war, but their position was trying to maintain or restore peace. Peacekeeper is not the same thing as a Pacifist, the Jedi were skilled warriors (training from childhood to wield a lightsaber), the difference is Jedi used their skills for defense not attack which is what we constantly saw throughout the Clone Wars.

With regards to the idea that Jedi “should not have gotten involved” I ask you then what exactly were they supposed to do instead?

We see at the beginning of Attack of the Clones that the Jedi are worried things will escalate to war, they have obviously gone to the Chancellor hoping that a diplomatic solution can be presented to avoid bloodshed. Or if that isn’t possible then that the Republic have some way to defend themselves other than relying solely on the Jedi (i.e. an army). The Separatists are the ones pushing them to a breaking point, were the Jedi just supposed to stand back and let innocent people be invaded/killed because they didn’t want to get involved? The Jedi were “Guardians of Peace and Justice” which means it was their duty to help bring about peace in the galaxy while also enacting justice.

Then after Geonosis (where they lost approx. 187 members mind you) they learned that the Sith are leading the Separatist army - the Jedi are duty bound by their code to fight the Sith, they had no choice but to join the war.

So, I ask again...what were they supposed to do instead?

2. Jedi used a slave army for their own purposes:

Okay, I can (and probably will) write a whole argument based on just this accusation alone. There are so many fallacies I don’t even know where to begin but I’ll try.

I guess my first question is the same as #1, what were the Jedi supposed to do instead with regards to the Clones?

Technically speaking the Clones didn’t “belong” to the Jedi, they were “property” of the Republic (as stated by Lama Su in Attack of the Clones). In fact, the Jedi Council not only didn’t know about the order, they had vehemently denied Syfo Dias’ earlier request to raise an army in the first place. The Sith KNEW the Jedi would be against it, this was all part of their plan to trap the Jedi (as was EVERYTHING about the war) - they clouded the Force, they literally deleted Kamino from the Archives so the Jedi wouldn’t discover it until the Sith WANTED them to (i.e. Jango just happened to use a Kamino dart?? Come on people). Yoda even states “blind we are if creation of this clone army we could not see” he fully admits they missed it because the Dark Side was clouding their vision.

Regardless, the army was created, there was no changing that fact. Had the Jedi not taken command of the army do you think the Clones wouldn’t have had to go to war? Do you actually believe that the Republic who couldn’t get their citizens to give 2 craps about the war would’ve taken up the mantle and fought instead? Do you think if the Jedi were like “thanks, but we didn’t order this” that the Kamioans would’ve just let the Clones go free?

The answer you’re looking for is...no.

So, like absolutely everything about the Clone Wars the Jedi did the best they could with the cards they had been dealt. They chose to lead the army on the front lines, putting themselves in just as much mortal danger as the men they were leading. They even sent a member of the Jedi Council to oversee the creation of future clones/training to ensure they were being treated humanely (something the Kamioans thought was ridiculous). They were the first to tell the clones that they were individuals, they constantly put themselves in front of their men to protect them (i.e. season 7 Obi-Wan deflecting the rocket from blowing up his men). The Jedi did what they could, just because we didn’t see on screen Jedi stopping to grieve every time a clone died did not mean that they didn’t care - real life Generals can’t stop in the middle of a battle to grieve over their fallen soldiers either, so why is it we consider it a moral crime if the Jedi don’t?

Another thing I’ll add is once the Jedi had evidence that the Clones were actually ordered by Dooku, did they immediately stop and say “oh hell no, these flesh droids can’t be trusted, we should just have them decommissioned”?? NO! They defended the Clones, stating that they were good men and should be trusted (and look where that trust got them in the end).

The Jedi were forced/coerced to fight this war as much as the Clones were!! Why are we willing to forgive the Clones, but not the Jedi???

3. Ki-Adi-Mundi killing Geonosians was the same as Anakin’s slaughter at the Tusken camp:

This is another moment where context is everything because there is a HUGE difference between Ki-Adi-Mundi on Geonosis and Anakin in the Tusken camp. The fact that I have to even spell it out makes me wonder how people can even dress themselves in the morning.

The Geonosians were an opposing military force, attacking Ki-Adi and his troops. Anakin slaughtered unarmed women and children out of vengeance.

Now, had Ki-Adi turned to his men and screamed “to the catacombs!” brandishing his lightsaber with a murderous glint in his eyes and proceeded to cut down the unarmed bugs below the battle then you’d have an accurate comparison on your hands and I’d be appalled right there with you.

But, as it stands this is not the same thing...not even close.

4. The Jedi sent children to war:

So, this is a tougher one and I can even understand the concerns behind it, and I even share some of those concerns. The thing I will say to this is, given what we see throughout Star Wars, what constitutes a “child” seems to be different than our own real world definition.

Padme, for example, was 14 when she was elected Queen, and she wasn’t even the youngest ever elected. She (and her handmaids) were trained as children to defend themselves and their people both politically and in battle (much like Jedi), but you don’t hear people condemning the people/traditions of Naboo the way we see the Jedi being condemned for theirs.

Jedi children arguably mature faster than your standard person, and with regards to Star Wars there are also species’ age ranges to keep in mind. Grogu for example is still a baby at age 50, could it be possible that Ahsoka at age 14 is on the same maturity level as a human in their early twenties due to her Togruta DNA?? We don’t know, it’s never stated other than Anakin saying something about because of her advanced skills he forgets how young she is.

Obviously Boba Fett is treated like an adult by other Bounty Hunters - no one even questions when he picks up a job and is placed in charge of a group at age 12 or 13 (and he is placed in an adult prison without anyone questioning it). It could be that by law according to Star Wars that 13 is actually considered an adult. Throughout history (and in many different cultures) 13 was when people were considered to be “coming of age”, So, once again we’re placing our cultural biases onto a fictional space fantasy world without realizing it might not even be an issue in that world.

But even beyond all of that I ask you again - what else should the Jedi have done?

Their young Padawans would eventually have to grow into Jedi Knights, even before the war by the time they are teenagers they usually followed their Masters on missions (often very dangerous missions) in order to get real world experience. At the time of the Clone Wars the real world they were living in was one at war. If they hadn’t brought their Padawans onto the battlefield how else would they have learned how to strategize, or how to cope with the emotions of battle? They would’ve been ill prepared if the war had continued on for years and years as it had looked like it was going to do...once again, the Jedi had no real choice in this.

5. The Jedi lost their way because of the war:

Did they though?? I’d argue they actually didn’t. We first have to ask ourselves what is a Jedi - well, according to the very first time we hear any type of a description about a Jedi they are introduced as the “Guardians of Peace and Justice for the Republic” I don’t see how the war took that away from them.

The Oxford definition of Guardian is a defender, protector, or keeper. I fail to see how the Jedi stopped being any of these things because of the war.

Here’s the bottom line, the Jedi’s biggest mistake was that they fell for a plot 1,000 years in the making. The Sith spent over a millenia perfecting/hatching this plan, there was nothing the Jedi could’ve done to prevent the war by the time the trap was sprung. As always, I’m not saying the Jedi were perfect (I hate that I have to always specify that when I argue that the Jedi were good), all I’m saying is they tried to do the most good that they could with the situation they fell into - few groups/characters can claim the same thing.

Everyone seems to forget that the Sith controlled BOTH SIDES to that war, there was nothing - absolutely NOTHING the Jedi could’ve done that would’ve changed or won that war. So, instead they saved as many innocent lives as they could and to me, that’s very Jedi.

#star wars #jedi #Clone Wars #jedi appreciation #jedi positivity #jedi positive #pro jedi #stop blaming the jedi #meta #rant post #war #The Clone Wars #attack of the clones #jedi culture #jedi council appreciation #jedi did not deserve genocide

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filmmies-writing · 3 years ago

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Past, Present & Future

pairing : ex!avengers reader x Zemo

word count : 1.3k

warning : mention of death

summary : you used to visit Zemo at the prison after the event of civil war but then he cut you off because he started to have feelings for you. Now that Bucky’s going to break him out, he needs your help babysitting this bad guy.

a/n : hello guyssssss <3 It's been quite a while since I posted my debut one shot. I really do appreciate every like, reblog and comment from my previous work (for anyone who hasn't checked it out yet, here you go!)THANK YOU🥺 At first I was thinking of making a short fanfiction, 3 parts was the first thought that came to my mind but I really enjoy writing this so maybe it’ll be more than 3 parts I suppose. You can also leave your ideas for the next part in the comment or what you think of this chapter, I’d really love to read them :) And fyi, your likes, reblogs and comments are what keep me going so pls 🥺🥺😂😂 Sorry if there’s any mistakes, English is not my first language. Also I’ll pin my masterlist on this blog as soon as I finish making it :)))))

“And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be

Right in front of me

Talk some sense to me”

(I Found - Amber Run)

“Do you still visit him?” Bucky asked through the phone, his voice steady and calm, like he already made a decision in his mind.

“After I’d blipped back I might have been there once or twice, but the last time was last year I guess” you said and you shrugged your shoulders as you walked around your apartment trying to find a chocolate you just bought but forgot where you put it at.

Yes, you’ve visited this criminal several times and some of your teammates know it. After you were informed about why he started all of his demeanors, about his motivation, as a person who doesn’t have any family left and witnessed everything that happened at the battle of Sokovia with your own eyes, you strongly have sympathy for him.

You see him as a man who let his emotions and anger take over his intelligent-self and just tried to do what he thought was right, what he thought it’ll make him feel better after he achieved it. And now that he succeeded his plan, deep down he still feels pretty empty. You can tell just from looking at him in the eyes, even there’s a thick glass between. And you bet he had taken some steps back to see his work and spent some time with himself, thinking. And you know he could see it too. Nothing changed, his family is still gone. Only thing new to him is that he now has to spend years after years rotting in German prison, which allows him to have more time to think about his family and his past actions. He was about to go insane.

But thank god you went to visit him.

You started to visit him for the very first time after six months of the airport battle. Bringing him some books considering how boring he would feel behind bars. But you were quite confused when you saw that his cell is more superior than the others. Even though it may seem dark and lifeless like the other cells, his cell is a lot bigger compared to others. He also has privileges to read all the up-to-date newspapers and books given from the guards that he seems to be paying extra for.

In the beginning, it was him who always started a conversation by questioning you. According to his genius mind’s calculation, he never expected any Avengers to visit him and especially to be this nice to him after what he had done, what he had caused. And clearly he was wrong, so he needed to know why you’re doing all of this since he thought he can never be wrong. Maybe you want to take revenge at him? Or could it be that you’re just really nice?

“Why being so nice to me?” he asked directly, wanting to see your reaction to his action.

“I just feel bad for what happened to you” you didn’t lie but kept looking down to the ground to avoid his gaze on you. You’ve heard about his reputation, how good he is at manipulating and you didn’t want to be his another victim.

It took only a few more times of visiting him for you to realize that you unexpectedly bonded with your friends’ greatest enemy and surprisingly enjoy spending your time with him, he would always tell you stories from his many journeys, but still not the private ones. He never wanted to share any of his family’s memories with anyone and he intended to keep it that way.

After getting to know him a lot more than you should, you soon realized that he’s a Baron after all, a royalty, which answered your curiosity perfectly about why he can still access so many privileges even behind the bars.

In return, you shared with him how you feel to be an Avengers, pressures and expectations you had received during that time. A hard decision you made that still haunts you in your sleep every night.

You two sometimes share your opinion on books you bring to him. You went back to the prison countless times with a handful of snacks, sweets and books. That’s why he thinks you’re too nice, too good for him.

Although he’s in prison, he still manages to spoil you with many presents that have been sent to your door time after time on special days such as your birthday and Christmas.

For Helmut, at first, these acts were only to return your kindness. At least that’s what he convinced himself since he doesn’t want to admit that he started to have feelings for you. He keeps telling himself he’ll never love again, but you make it hard for him.

And for you, no one has ever cared about you as much as he did. But still, you persuaded yourself he’s just a friend, a good friend.

But when it came to the point that Zemo cannot lie to himself anymore, he decided to face the truth and deal with it in a very definitive way. He cut you off. Completely.

He added your name to the list of people he prohibited to visit him. You were heartbroken when you first found out but maybe it’s for the best that things didn’t go any further than this, you cajoled yourself. In the first few months, it was hard for you not to think of him, but now that it has been almost a year, you’re finally doing fine.

To clarify his action, his mind keeps telling him that after what he had done to you, he doesn’t deserve you. You deserve to be happy, to live your life with someone that’s not stuck in a prison like him. Someone as good as you. Not a state-criminal like him. Another reason for him would be because he doesn’t want anyone to replace his wife. Even after so many years she has passed away, she still holds a very special place in his heart and he would never want any memories with someone else to replace those precious memories he has left of her.

“And do you think it’s gonna be fine if he’s out of the prison?” Your eyes automatically blinked, starting to feel terrified by what Bucky just asked you.

“I... I... I don’t know, I can’t reassure you anything, I mean I believe that he’ll be useful to your case but he can be very manipulative so you must be careful when he’s out” You said what you could think of at that moment. You can never think straight when it comes to the Baron.

Bucky replied with silence for a moment but not too long until he continued the conversation and said “Wanna do your old friends a favor?”

You know he wants you with them in case things go wrong with Zemo since you seem to be the one who knows him best compared to them. Also in Bucky and Sam’s aspect, your fighting and investigating skills would be really helpful to the team. And who knows what the new cap is about? So it’s clearly better to have you included in this little team.

“Sure..” To be honest, you’re quite afraid to face the Baron again but you can never say no to your friends and plus you want to do something in return for them since they always taking a good care of you, they’re like older brothers to you and you couldn’t let they go out there on their own knowing that you can help them.

“See you at the prison tomorrow then, I believe you know your way there already” Bucky replied before hanging up.

This is going to be a hell of a journey!

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talesofarcadia78 · 3 years ago

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Chemistry || One Shot

Beep! Beep! Bee--

Your alarm clock beeped, but you quickly hit the off button, not wanting to hear it anymore. You slowly got up, still wanting to sleep in, but couldn't since you had school. As you got up, you noticed that you had left your bedroom in the same state as last night. A mess.

You quickly shook your sleep and got ready for school.

While you were packing your bag, you noticed that you had a dozen messages from y/bff. They all read about meeting up at Sam's before school, at 7:30.

Shoot! That's in 10 minutes! Sam's is all the way across town!

You quickly zipped up your bag and rushed out your door. But before you could even turn the door handle of your door, your mom stopped you.

"Hey, Mom! I'm in a rush, I got to go," you quickly explained.

"Not so fast. Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked.

"Nope, got everything. Books, laptop, pencil case, phone, wallet," you listed.

"What about your room?" she questioned.

Oops. I forgot about that.

"I'll just do it when I get back," you reassured her.

"Sure?" she asked.

"100% sure, Mom. Now, I have to go, otherwise I'll be late," you reminded her.

"Yes, yes. Go, but remember, be back home by 6," she said sternly.

"Will do. Love you!" you said, running out the door.

You rushed to your bike and quickly rode off into town.

After a while, you got to Sam's. You saw that y/bff's bike was already there, along with your friend group's. You walked in, to see a bunch of high schoolers occupying each table. You searched for your friends, when you spotted them at the back. You ran over and plopped yourself down.

"What took you so long?" y/bff asked.

"Sorry, got held up," you replied.

"Anyways, did you guys know that we're going to get a chemistry assignment today?" Tia informed.

"Cool! Is it group, individual or partners?" you asked.

"I'm pretty sure it's partners. So I dibs y/bff!" Tia answered. "Sorry y/n but I want to work with her."

"It's okay, I'll just partner up with--" you started but was cut off by Belle.

"Me and Lauren!"

"Okay, I'l just partner up with someone else," you chuckled.

After about 20 minutes of chatting, you looked at your watch, 8.

"Uhh, guys, it's 8. We should start heading to school," you said.

All of you rode to school. Soon a sign 'Arcadia Oaks Academy', came into view.

You chained up your bikes and headed to your lockers.

"Who will you partner up with?" Lauren asked you.

"I don't know. Maybe Douxie? He seems like a good person to partner up with," you replied.

"Aww~ You two would be great partners. Plus, maybe you too could get a bit more closer by the assignment," Belle teased.

"Uh... sure. Since we would have to do the assignment after school, we would have to exchange numbers, get each other's address--" you agreed but you got cut off by Belle, again.

"No! Yeah like that, but you know closer. As in like a relationship, like how Tia and Lauren are," Belle explained.

"What! I hardly know him!" you exclaimed.

"Well, you two will get to know each other, since you two would get closer," y/bff hypothesised.

"Plus, there will be a bit of chemistry between you two," Tia added, "Since you're like, in chemistry."

"Uh, I uh... um... I guess? I don't know, guys. I don't like him like that," you said.

"Sure you don't! I always see you sneaking glances at him in class," Lauren smirked.

Your eyes instantly widened.

"I- I wasn't! I was... uh... memorising the periodic table that was above his head!" you quickly denied.

"Yep. Sure," everyone nodded, smirking at each other but you.

"Let's discuss this later, we'll be late for class!" Tia reminded, pushing all four of you to class.

After three tiring classes, the bell finally rang to indicate lunch.

The five of you were walking to the cafeteria, when you of all people, tripped over your own feet, plummeting to the ground. You braced for the impact, but it never came, just strong arms wrapping around your waist, saving you. You looked up at your saviour, which you expected to be Belle or y/bff, but it was none other than your crush, Douxie.

"H-Hey, Douxie," you said.

"Hey, love. You okay?" Douxie asked, pulling you up onto your feet.

"Yeah, I'm okay," you replied, dusting off some dust off your clothes.

"Wait, do you have a chemistry partner? I've heard that we're going to receive an assignment that needs one," Douxie inquired.

"No, I-" you started to reply, but was cut off by Belle, putting an arm around your shoulder.

"Y/n, doesn't have a partner. You know, you can always partner up with y/n! Right, y/n?" Belle exclaimed.

"Y-yeah," you agreed, blushing at the thought of you and Douxie working together.

"Well, then y/n, Douxie, I'll leave you two to your chemistry," Belle smirked, walking off with the rest of your gang.

"Well, y/n, may I have the honour of being your partner?" Douxie joked, bowing down and taking his hand out for you to take.

You giggled, going along with the joke, "Yes, Douxie. You may have the honour," and put your hand in his.

After the two of you decided on being partners, Douxie went off to find his friends while you did the same.

Soon after, you found your friends all seated at a table on the far side of the cafeteria. As you were heading over there, you noticed that Douxie was at a table right next to your friends.

You quickly sat yourself down next to y/bff.

"So did-" Belle started but you cut her off.

"Why did you guys sit right next to Douxie's friends? Who's plan was this?" you hissed.

Everyone pointed to y/bff.

"Seriously, y/bff? Like seriously!" you fumed.

"Just you wait. In just a few days, instead of sitting with us, you two will be at a table all by yourselves. So get used to sitting around him," y/bff teased.

"Uhh!" you groaned, slamming your head onto the table.

"Don't do that, you'll look stupid," someone sang.

You looked up to see, Ella walking around the table and taking a seat in front of you.

"Are you kidding me? You too, Ella! I thought you were the only one who wouldn't tease me about this," you whined.

"Sorry, y/n, but I couldn't help myself," Ella admitted.

Once again, you slammed your head onto the table.

"Wait up! Ella, I texted you to come over to Sam's before school. Where were you?" y/bff asked.

"Got caught up with cleaning my little brother's room, since he couldn't do it himself," Ella replied, grumbling the last part. "Anyways, rumour is, Douxie asked y/n out!"

"What!" you cried.

Everyone turned their heads towards you.

"Douxie did not ask me out!" you denied.

"Are you sure?" Ella asked.

She took out her phone and showed everyone a photo of Douxie bowing down, his hand in front of him, while it held yours.

"Who took that photo?!" you gasped.

"I don't know. It got texted to everyone anonymously," Ella shrugged.

"Everyone..." you gulped.

Y/bff put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"It's going to be fine," y/bff reassured.

"Fine?!" you exclaimed. "Now everyone must think that me and him are together."

"I can find out who took the photo," Tia suggested.

"I don't want drama," you said.

"You sure?" Tia confirmed.

"Yeah, I'm sure," you replied, holding your head in your hands.

Suddenly, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You took it out and saw that it was a text from an anonymous person.

Great, this better be good.

The text read:

Douxie and y/n are partners in chemistry! The power couple can't stand to be away from each other.

You immediately deleted the message. You noticed that your friends were also looking at their phones.

"You guys got the text, right?" Belle asked.

Everyone nodded.

"Now what?" you questioned.

"Well, whoever this person is, they definitely want to stir up trouble," Lauren claimed.

"We just need to find out who that person is," Tia concluded and got up.

"Where are you going?" you inquired.

"To find out who the person is, duh," Tia answered.

"I'll come. You might need help," Lauren said and got up as well.

The two walked away and out the cafeteria.

"Come on, y/n. You need to eat," y/bff stated, pushing a bowl of fruit salad.

"Fine," you sighed and slowly started to eat lunch.

Before, you could even put your fork in your mouth, you heard some of Douxie's friends laughing.

You looked towards them, to see them walking towards your table.

Your table!

"What the--! Why are they coming over here?" you whispered to the others.

Before any of them could answer, the boys had already made their way to the table.

"Hey! We're Douxie's friends," a boy with brunette hair spoke.

"Hey..." you hesitated.

"What do you guys want?" Ella asked.

You zoned out after Ella spoke. You looked towards the boys' table and saw Douxie's face was red from embarrassment. He started to wave his arms in the air, trying to get his friend's attention.

"He looks kinda funny," you thought.

Just then, his eyes on fell on you. Both of your eyes widened and you felt your cheeks turn warm. Douxie then gave you a wink and a smile, while you just shyly waved and smiled before quickly turning your attention back to the conversation.

"We heard that our boy Douxie's gotten himself a 'girlfriend'," the same guy that had brunette hair spoke.

"Let me guess, some anonymous person sent you a photo of Douxie bowing with his hand out while it held y/n's hand and maybe the same person sent you a text that they're partners in chemistry and and that the power couple 'can't stand to be away from each other'?" y/bff said.

"Exactly!" a guy with black hair exclaimed.

"FYI, Douxie's not in a--" you began but the bell rang, cutting you off.

"Sorry, but we gotta head to class. See ya around!" the brunette waved and walked off with the rest his friends, including Douxie.

You sighed and got up from your seat.

"What class do we have?" you asked.

"Chemistry," Belle replied.

"Perfect. Just perfect," you grumbled and started heading towards the chemistry lab.

As you took a seat, you saw that Douxie was looking at you. Y/bff nudged you in your side, smirking.

"Look, Douxie can't keep his eyes off of you," y/bff teased.

"There might actually be chemistry between the two of you after all," Tia sang from beside you.

You groaned and hid your face in your hands.

Soon after, class began.

The teacher explained what the assignment was about and all the little details.

The teacher then asked everyone to find somebody to partner up with. All your friends instantly partnered up with one another. You had to move, since only 4 people could fit at one table. You glanced towards Douxie, who was motioning you to go over to him. You obeyed and walked to him, seating yourself down beside him.

Since most of the lesson was spent being explained by the teacher, you got time to discuss the assignment with your partner. Douxie turned to you.

"So, we should start the background research ASAP, if we want to hand the assignment in by the deadline in two weeks," Douxie said.

"Yeah," you agreed.

"So, do you want to work on the assignment after school today?" Douxie asked.

"Uh... sure," you answered.

"Nuclear! Here's my address and number," he cheered and handed you a sticky note.

You shoved the note into your pocket and grabbed a piece of paper to write down your details as well. You quickly scribbled down you number and address and handed the details to him.

Abruptly, your phone vibrated in your pocket. You took it out and saw a message from Tia.

I've got a few leads on who the person is that's sending the texts and photos.

You looked across the classroom to find Tia furiously typing away on her phone.

Must be investigating.

You put your phone away and turned your attention back to Douxie.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Yep," you nodded.

The bell rung for next class, making you jump a little.

"Well, I'll see you at my place at four, love," Douxie grinned, giving you his signature wink and two-finger salute, walking out of class.

As soon as you got outside of class, your friends instantly crowded around you.

"So, how was it?!" they all asked at the same time.

"How was what?" you inquired.

"Y'know! In class, with Douxie," Belle hinted.

"Oh, that!" you exclaimed. "It was, uh... good."

Suddenly, a random person bumped into you, making you stumble forwards a bit. Your sticky note fell out of your pocket. Once you had regained your balance, you noticed that the note was on the ground. You went to pick it up, but Lauren beat you to it.

"GDT Arcane Books and..." Lauren read aloud. "Ooh! His number!"

"Gimme that!" you cried, trying to snatch it from her hands.

But alas, you were shorter than her, making you fail miserably.

"Aww~ Look! He even wrote a short message for you at the back!" Lauren gushed. "It says: 'I'm really looking forward for you coming to my place, y/n. I'm sure we'll be able to get to know each other better. I'm glad that your my chemistry partner. See you at 4!'"

"Alright! Give me that right now!" you exclaimed, finally snatching the note from her.

You shoved the sticky note into your backpack and left for your next class.

The last classes went like blur and before you knew it, school was over. You peddled your way back home. You quickly finished your homework and cleaned your room.

You re-packed your bag and peddled back into town, heading to GDT Arcane Books. But as you made your way there, storm clouds rolled in and the heavens opened up. You were drenched by the time you were inside the bookstore.

You quickly took in your surroundings. There was a a bunch of crystals everywhere and a lot of books on the shelves. In one of the corner's, there was a fireplace lit and an armchair near it. At the other corner was a spiral staircase which obviously lead to level above. The place was overall homey and cozy.

"Hey, love," a voice spoke.

You turned to the source of the voice to see Douxie halfway down the staircase.

"Hi, Douxie! Nice home, it's a bookstore," you said.

"Well, this isn't exactly where I live. I live upstairs," Douxie chuckled, gesturing to the stairwell.

All of a sudden, his eyes widened. He scrambled down the stairs.

"Uh, Doux, you good?" you asked.

"I should be the one asking you that question right now, love!" Douxie said, grabbing your backpack from you. "You're completely drenched and shivering from head to toe!"

"I'm fine, Douxie," you assured him.

"You are absolutely not fine, y/n. You can catch a cold, and I'm not letting that happen on my watch," Douxie shook his head.

He led you up the stairs and onto the second level. He walked up to a book on a shelf and pulled it slightly. The shelf started to go inside the wall before it seperate into two, revealing a black door. You gasped in amazement. Douxie unlocked a door and held it open for you.

The apartment wasn't much, but it seemed big enough for Douxie. Douxie led you down a very narrow hallway, where one side you assumed was the bathroom and the other side was just a side table where keys hung above it. Down the short hallway, was a couch up against a wall with a coffee table and a TV in front. The kitchen was in the corner, with the dining table attached.

(No balcony)

"Wow! A secret apartment behind a bookstore. That's so cool!" you commented.

"Thanks," he grinned.

Douxie placed your bag on the floor next to the couch and headed to another room, which probably was his bedroom. He came out seconds later with a small black hoodie and grey jeans.

"Uh, Douxie, why did you get clothes?" you asked.

"Well, I can't have you in wet clothes and then catch a cold, can I?" he explained.

You looked at the clothes in Douxie's hand and then looked down at yourself.

They won't fit me.

"Umm... Douxie... uhh... don't you think they're a bit big?" you questioned.

He looked at his clothes then at you, smiling sheepishly at you.

"Plus... the umm... jeans are 'kinda umm... not my uhh... gender," you stammered.

"Well, the hoodie can keep you extra warm and the jeans are gender neutral, so like uhh... you can wear them. And plus, they haven't been worn in years," Douxie reassured you.

"Okay..." you hesitated and took the clothes.

"You can change in there," he said, pointing towards the bathroom.

You nodded and walked into the bathroom.

You quickly got changed and looked in the mirror. The hoodie was huge on you, it went all the way down to your knees and the jeans were a bit (okay maybe too) long for you so you had to roll up the ends up to your ankles. You then looked at your frizzy hair. You hastily combed your hair with your fingers and put it in a low messy bun. Then you exited out of the bathroom.

You noticed that Douxie was heating up water in a kettle.

You stashed your clothes in your bag before you heard a loud crash from the kitchen.

"Oh fuzzbuckets!" Douxie yelled.

You whipped your head towards the commotion to see water spilled across the counter and pieces of shattered ceramic across the floor. You ran over to Douxie to help him. You briefly looked at the mess before letting your gaze fall on Douxie.

"You need help?" you asked, but you already knew his answer.

"Yes please," he squeaked and got down on his knees to pick up the ceramic.

But before he could pick up a piece you warned him, "You can injure yourself if you pick the pieces up one by one."

"Then how am I going to clean this up?" he puzzled

"Do you have a dustpan?" you inquired.

He pointed to a corner behind you. You got it and handed it to Douxie,

"Now you can clean it up."

You got tissues and wiped the water away.

Soon, the kitchen was as good as new.

Douxie popped the kettle back on and got two mug's from a cabinet.

"I'll make the tea, you can start researching," Douxie said, adding a tea bag in each cup.

"Wait, why are you making tea?" you asked.

"Well, one: tea's nuclear, two: why not?, three: it's the perfect weather, and four: you just came from the rain, so tea would be nice," Douxie replied, pouring the hot kettle water into both mug's and handing one to you.

The two of you took a seat on his couch and started to research.

An hour and a half later ~

"My eyes are hurting from looking at the screen," you whined, stretching your arms and slumping back on the couch.

"Well, we've been researching for an hour or so nonstop on chemical reactions, so I guess we can stop," Douxie chuckled. "We can continue to research tomorrow."

"Right," you nodded.

"Hey, I got an idea," he started.

"What?" you asked, sitting up more straight.

"We can play truth or dare!" he finished.

You looked at your watch. You had around half an hour until you had to go home.

"Sure," you smiled.

"Okay, y/n, truth or dare?" Douxie asked.

"Easy, truth," you stated.

"What's the worst date you've been on?" he asked.

"I've never been on a date, so I never had a worst date," you told.

"What?!" Douxie exclaimed.

"Why are you so shocked?" you speculated.

"Well, I'm shocked cause umm... like, you're very pretty... and like, no one's asked you out on a date..." Douxie stuttered.

You cheeks grew warm and looked away, "I'm not pretty."

You felt a hand on your shoulder and turn you towards Douxie.

"You're very pretty, y/n. Very pretty. In fact, your one of the most beautiful girls I know," Douxie expressed.

"Awww... Thank you, Douxie. No one has ever said that to me before," you breathed.

"Well, I'm glad I'm the first, love," Douxie grinned.

"Okay, now it's your turn!" you declared. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," he said.

"What's the funniest pick up line you've every used?" you shot.

"Okay, get prepared y/n, this is a good one. Are you terms and conditions? Cause whatever you say I’ll always agree with you," Douxie answered.

(Sorry if you don't think that's funny, just pretend it is if you didn't)

You looked at him with a straight face.

"Did you think that was funny?" Douxie hesitated.

You slowly started to nod before you burst out laughing. He let out a sigh and started to laugh as well.

The two of you kept playing the game until it was time for you to go.

You walked down Douxie's short hallway and was about to open the door yourself but Douxie opened it up for you and bowed down.

"Why thank you, kind sir," you joked.

"Your welcome, m'lady," he said, going along with your joke.

You walked out of his secret apartment and back into GDT Arcane Books.

Douxie escorted you to the door and waved you goodbye.

Soon, you were riding your bike back home. Luckily, the rain had stopped, so this time you didn't get wet.

When you had gotten home, you saw that your mom was making dinner.

"Hey, Mom! What 'ya making?" you called.

"Hey, y/n! Just making f/f," she replied. "Also, why are you in a hoodie and grey jeans. If I remember correctly, you left the house in a shirt and pants."

"I got wet, so a friend lended me their clothes. They didn't want me getting sick," you explained.

"Right," she nodded. "But isn't the hoodie and bit, I don't know, big?"

"Yeah, it's actually a men's size," you admitted.

"So, your friend is a guy? Ooh~" she teased.

"Mom!" you cried.

The next two weeks flied by. Soon enough, it was time to hand in your assignment.

Over the two weeks, you and Douxie had gotten really close. Not just close in friendship, but literally as well.

Once, you had tripped over your carpet and fell into his lap. You face was on fire at that time, you also saw that he had a slight blush across his face.

Another time, was when you and him were discussing while walking to class when you, being the clumsy human you were, tripped over your feet and descended to the ground. Douxie thankfully, caught you by your waist, but he also fell. His face was so close to yours, your noses were touching. You would've had scrambled up, but you stuck in a sandwich with the ground and Douxie.

Back to the present, you and Douxie were ready to hand in the assignment. Well, the assignment was ready to be handed in, but you weren't ready to let go yet . Douxie on the other hand was totally chill about the situation.

"How are you so calm about this, Doux?" you whimpered.

"Cause I know we've done our best," Douxie stated. "You want me to hand the assignment in instead?"

"Yes, please," you begged, handing him a booklet.

He walked to the front of the classroom and gave the teacher the assignment papers. He walked back and sat down next to you.

"All done," he smiled.

"Now, we just need to wait for our grades," you told him.

"Don't worry, whatever we get, it'll be good," Douxie reassured.

The next day, you were biting your finger nails nervously.

"What if we get a bad grade?" you whispered to Douxie, eyeing the teacher as they handed everyone their assignments back.

"As I said, whatever we get, it'll be good," Douxie repeated.

You nodded as the teacher smiled at the two of you and handed you the paper.

"Good job you two. You make a good pair!" they commented.

The teacher walked off while you and Douxie were blushing like crazy.

You looked down at the grade you had gotten to see...

An ‘A’!

"Yes!" the two of you cheered.

You gave each other a high five and unexpectedly Douxie hugged you. You obviously hugged back, just before you heard the whole class saying "Aww~". You both pulled away to see everyone had their phones out, taking photos.

"So, I guess you guys are a couple, right?" y/bff asked, walking up to you.

"I... uhh..." you stammered, unsure what to say.

Suddenly, the bell rang for next class, saving you from answering her question.

You walked out of class, only to be pulled aside, your back against a wall. You looked up to see that Douxie had put his hands both placed next to your face.

"Douxie, what are you doing?" you asked.

"Y/n, do you like me?" Douxie asked.

"Umm... uh... I..." you hesitated.

"Cause I sure like you," Douxie smiled, leaning in.

His eyes started to flutter close as did yours. Then your lips met. You smiled as Douxie interlocked your warm fingers with his cold ones. Soon, you both pulled away, keeping your foreheads touching.

"Actually, I love you, y/n l/n," Douxie confessed.

"I love you too, Hisirdoux Casperan," you said.

You kept staring into each other's eyes for who knows how long.

"So... uh... are we, like, a thing now?" you inquired, breaking the silence.

"I guess we are," Douxie nodded.

"Uhh, Douxie, I need to get to my next class. So can I go?" you asked.

"Oh yeah," Douxie said, moving aside, letting you pass. "I'll see you at lunch!"

"'Kay!" you called and continued to walk.

A few weeks later~

You and Douxie had been exchanging glances whenever you two got the chance. In class, the cafeteria, bike racks, lockers, streets, shops, the list goes on.

Whenever you two were ever alone, Douxie would take the opportunity to give you a kiss. If not a proper one than just a peck.

Douxie would always sent you at least 5 cheesy pick up lines a day. They were funny and sweet.

He had taken you out on dates every weekend. The movies, picnics, dinner, lunch, you name it.

You had to admit, your friends were right. The chemistry assignment did make chemistry between the two of you. And you were glad.

Word Count : 4, 527

#douxie #douxie imagine #douxie x reader #douxie casperan #douxie casperan x reader #douxie x y/n #douxie casperan x y/n #hisirdoux casperan #hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan x reader #toa hisirdoux #toa douxie #toa douxie casperan #toa hisirdoux casperan #character x reader #character x y/n #toa x reader #tales of arcadia

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shirophantomvox · 4 years ago

Text

Chrollo, Hisoka, and Illumi Headcanons

Chrollo, Hisoka, Illumi, and Leorio headcanons

Hello, anon! I am so sorry for taking longer than usual to respond to this post. I have been so busy with A LOT lately but I have time now! I don’t know if you want N/SFW, romantic or non so I’ll go based on what comes to mind! I know many Tumblr users have made these types of assumptions for them a lot but I wanted to join in. I started writing this last night so forgive me if there are any unbearable grammar errors. I hope you like it anon, I tried my best. I have to work on my headcanons for them because I try to keep them in character. Since we don’t have much background info on ⅔, I have to keep it as realistic as possible. FYI N/SFW content is mentioned.

Discord for Voltron and HxH fans

Let’s start with Chrollo.

Chrollo (SFW)

I’ve seen on here that a lot of you headcanon Chrollo to be an understanding man when it comes to feelings for his significant other. Given his soft voice and calm demeanor, I’m sure that is somewhat true.

It seems like Chrollo isn’t on board with over-the-top PDA meaning he would agree to hand-holding and his arm around you but nothing more. He saves the...other stuff for when you two are alone. Because of Chrollo’s past, it seems like he wouldn’t want to be seen in public that much because that can cause him to get caught by the authorities.

He takes your safety very seriously. You understand that when he is with the Phantom Troupe that you are not to interrupt until the business is over. He doesn’t allow you to get involved with the missions because of how dangerous they can be (example: the auction). He knows you can handle it, he prefers for you not to be involved. Feelings and work can make things difficult.

Although Chrollo hides in the shadows, I imagine he lives in a penthouse with expensive furniture, white and black color pattern, and large windows that have an astonishing view of Yorknew.

After you both have worked long and hard, you open the door just to see the lights dimmed so dark that it matches the night atmosphere. There are rose petals leading to the bathroom where a bubble bath is waiting. As you enter the bathroom, your boyfriend is waiting there, submerged in bubbles sticking his arms out. Candles light up the tiny room casting a romantic shadow from your body. You grab his hand and gently sit in the tub. The warm water felt amazing; it helped your aching muscles (from exercising) feel better. Chrollo gently grabbed your arm and pulled you into a warm, loving embrace. He wrapped his toned arms around your body and rested his chin on your shoulder. He didn’t say a word but instead breathed heavily, kissed your shoulder, and leaned back against the wall. On days like this, he didn’t say much but his actions spoke louder than words.

Chrollo NSFW

I think Chrollo is a passionate lover. This assumption comes from his calm demeanor. He seems to be incredibly patient so if you aren’t positioning yourself the right way or something, he’ll work with you to make sure you get it and you are comfortable.

He is touchy. That means during the nitty-gritty, he likes to touch your face, chin, lips, and your torso as a way to show more affection.

When he is in the mood, he moves slowly then very fast. He cannot resist the urges and feelings he has for you.

He loves to do this while the drapes are open although you have expressed that you like your privacy. It’s ironic. He doesn’t like extreme PDA but is ok with sleeping with you while the lights from the city shine near your penthouse window. Ah, guys are confusing.

After the climax, he lays flat on the bed and pulls you close. He leaves about an inch in between because heat is still radiating off your bodies and it’s summertime.

Hisoka (SFW) If his significant other was shy.

People have mixed feelings about Hisoka, feelings, and whether or not if he is gentle or not. I don’t think that Hisoka is gentle but begins to lay off the harsh jokes or pranks as he sees that you both have fought before and you’re not as weak as he thought.

Unlike Chrollo, he is all for PDA. This ranges from hand holding to playful kisses to passionate kisses. When I saw Hisoka for the first time, I immediately thought he was a fuck boy. A fuck boy is a boy that is only interested in sleeping with someone and doesn’t intend on pursuing a relationship.

He’d take the pleasure of appreciating your presence as well as testing your patience. If you are shy and are easily flustered, he will change that. He’ll do things like kissing you, calling you affectionate names, or anything that will cause you to respond. You hit him jokingly. Still not getting the message, he continues and you hit him harder. This is where he releases a medium moan which causes everyone to look in your direction. You freeze; face flushed and he’s laughing his ass off.

“What’s the matter,” he asks, covering his mouth. “You look flushed~♥.”

“You’re doing too much. Stop playing around! People are staring~💯.” You cover the side of your face. True enough you were a little mortified but in a good way. You knew he did this because he liked you but sometimes he played too much.

This is when he pulls you closer to his face, your ear next to his mouth, and whispers something in your ear that sent chills down your spine that made you blush more than before. He nearly puckered his lips as he spoke. He took his index finger and thumb to caress your cheek.

“Raising your voice at me? That simply won’t do. Aren’t you aware of the consequences~♥?”

You knew better than to not say anything because he would cup your cheeks and pull you into a deep kiss, and wouldn’t let go until he was sure that everyone was looking.

Both of you enjoy red, white, and rose wine. To him, wine equals classiness and sophistication. After fighting each other for hours (which he considers training for you and exercise for him) drinking wine and watching Lifetime (television for idiots) is a great way to end the night.

NSFW

As stated above, I originally thought that Hisoka was a fuck boy, so I am going to roll with that thought. This man has the potential of being rough and if he is too rough this is the time where you can speak up and say so. He’ll listen to you. Similar to Chrollo, he can be very romantic if he wants to. The rose petals gimmick was played out.

Instead, he hides in the darkest part of the living room waiting for you.

You turn on the lights and immediately head to the kitchen to drink a bottle of ice-cold water. Summer nights in Yorknew were hot and humid, almost unbearable. It felt like you were being suffocated. Becoming impatient, Hisoka clears his throat loudly causing you to nearly jump out of your skin; choking on the water you were drinking. He released a sexy chuckle. When you turned around, there stood your chiseled buff boyfriend bare with a ribbon tied in various directions around his body. Your birthday was two days ago and he was your gift. Although you have seen him like this before, for some reason you were too flustered to make a move. He already knew that you were tired from work, so he carried you in his arms to the Exercise Room and laid you gently on the floor. You smiled as a rush or passion took over your body resulting in you tearing off the ribbon tightly wrapped around his body. Since this was your birthday gift, he made it a night you’d remember forever! Surprisingly, no roughhousing, just soft and gentle. This proves that Hisoka has the capability of being humane. His strokes were to your liking and the gazes that you both exchanged were mind-blowing. Why couldn’t he be this way all the time? After it all, you fell asleep at her quickly. You were on the floor but now on top of your king-sized bed, with the message control on high. He stayed awake, watching TV, and thought about how he was going to pick a fight with you at the crack of dawn.

Hisoka’s ability to flirt and send the intended person swooning is a talent of itself. Lots of people do not possess this talent. Sometimes it's intentional and sometimes it's not. He speaks softly and smoothly, are he has to do is ask and it shall be done.

Illumi SFW

Illumi gives the impression that he is a “quiet” freak. This means that true enough he is focused on his job but if the moment comes along he will give in. He isn’t into PDA at all and if he does feel like showing some affection it will be done in private. Even though he appears to be a zombie, laying on or even cuddling with his significant other will help him relax for once. Imagine having to complete many missions in a day, exhausted, and have a wonderful person waiting to act as a human pillow for your weary head. Even Illumi can’t resist that.

If he likes you and plans to marry you, he will make that known to everyone to avoid confusion. Illumi represents the stereotypical shy boy; he is anti-social, prefers to only be around people he knows and trusts, and carries out the duties of his job.

After everything has been completed for the day, he wouldn’t mind ( and secretly begs) for silent cuddles with his significant other and to just fall asleep. At this point, you are used to it so this is all you want and you are satisfied. When he does talk, it’s usually about something he found out from work that he knows should be kept quiet but he tells you anyway. Late nights are the time of day where Illumi vents for a few hours. The details of these vent sessions could range anywhere from “I wish you were there to see it” to “No, it would be too much”. As quiet and reserve as he is, his love is shown in a unique way that you have grown accustomed to.

NSFW

When the urge slaps him across the face like a sack of rocks, he cannot resist. Usually, he fights off the urge by exercising (mainly because you are out of the house or sleep) but this time he couldn’t shake it.

Before he gets started with anything, he styles his long hair in the shape of a bun so it doesn’t get in the way of action.

Although he is portrayed to be an emotionless zombie, he has some feeling deep inside him that he unleashes just for you. This is shown by gentle moist kisses being placed along your neck and once he reaches your shoulder that is when you wake up. Halfway through your sleepy eyes, you see a man with a devilish smile painted across his face. Who is this man? This couldn’t be your boyfriend. No way, no how.

Once he sees your sleepy smile, he just releases so many kisses that you throw the blanket off and he pulls you in closer.

Illumi will allow you both to switch the roles meaning he is in charge one time and you are on another day. Since you were still asleep, he decided to take on the role. He is surprisingly gentle in the beginning but as soon as it takes off, your ride him like a donkey. It ironic; he releases more noises than you! You have to remind him that noise travels! Great, you’re doing your job well! While it is important to take your job seriously, you need to have time to release that stress.

He uses his large eyes to stare into yours; you always found yourself lost in his gaze.

After it all, you lay back down waiting for your boyfriend to return from the kitchen. Illumi craves food like crazy after a good session. What’s better than donuts at 3 AM? COMFORT FOOD!!

These urges also come when you two are training together. Several times he’s had to guide you from behind on how to aim his needles. This time you noticed the packing of his pants which surprised you.

“Any questions,” he asked in a monotone voice.

“Yes. Why did you wear jogging pants? You’re giving yourself away.”

It was at this moment, he knew he fucked up. But let’s be honest, ok? He is standing behind the most beautiful person in the world, nostrils full of perfume, hair tied up, and has his left hand placed loosely on your thigh?! What was he thinking by wearing jogging pants when he was with you? He acted as if he didn’t know what you were talking about.

“You really don’t know?”

You kicked your backside out against him causing him to fall to the ground.

“Wow! Your legs are like jelly!”

“Why tease me,” He asked breaking out a small smile.

“You’re the one denying it.”

“Just get to it. I can’t wait any longer or else I’ll explode.”

The quiet ones are always the freakiest.

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stargaze-issei · 4 years ago

Text

— 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐤 𝐭𝐨𝐤 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝 + 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫-𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧 !

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭; karasuno and fukurodani react to their manager doing the body count/bodyody audio tik tok ! [insp by this tik tok]

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; crack(?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; suggestive themes, maybe a little swearing i can't remember ajaksjq.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; the trend it's to put pictures of all the people you've slept with, in case anyone doesn't know!!

karasuno !

-> it was a joke, it wasn’t supossed to get out of the thrid year managers gc.

-> the girls found it hilarious and was a good conversation topic for hours, discussing who you put or didn’t put.

-> they knew, of course, it was fake. you hadn’t slept with oikawa, KYOUTANI, BOKUTO, tendou, atsumu, TERUSHIMA and OSAMU.

-> it was SO obvious it was a joke for them that nobody felt the need to point it out.

-> they just said things like “the most quiet are the worst ones” “OMG DETAILS ABOUT THE TWINS!!” “did terushima yk,, made a good use of his percing” because they KNEW nothing was real.

-> until tanaka and sugawara asked kiyoko for her phone to watch some videos of the new play they were trying.

-> and misaki, from johzenji, sent a “forget about teru— 🤢 can’t even say it,, Y/N I WANNA HEAR ABOUT BOKUTO!!! ik man’s p a c k i n g”

-> tanaka looks at suga and suga looks at tanaka and they’re like .......tf

-> suga’s finger “slips” and they see the other messages until finally they reach your video.

-> you’re there looking pretty as usual and above your head reads “seems like were showing our body counts with this sound? here it’s mine 🤪”

-> tanaka is about to say “it can be what we’re thinking” but when OIKAWA’S picture appears both their jaws hit the floor.

-> nishinoya sees them and ofc he wants to know what’s so shocking, so he gets closer.

-> he drags hinata too, and shoyo’s like “that’s the great king!! play it again!! play it again!!”

-> fyi: suga paused the video because wOW and they don’t know who’s left in your video.

-> sugawara looks straight in the eye at nishinoya, going “keep hinata, kageyama and yamaguchi away and bring the team” with the MOST SERIOUS EXPRESSION

-> noya is lowkey scared??? like wtf??? but does as he’s told bc suga seems super intense.

-> kiyoko and yachi left to fill the bottles and pick some needed implements from the club room, you had classes for a few more minutes, therefore, there was nobody to stop them.

-> once the rest of the team, including tsukishima because everyone seemed to have forgotten he was a first year too, is together, suga plays again the video, while the littlest ones watch from afar in curiosity.

-> the silence, you will never hear them in a more tense silence.

-> they read what’s your tiktok about, daichi’s eyes go O.O, asahi goes RED, nishinoya seemed to be ready to FIGHT THEM ALL, ennoshita awkwardly laughs, even tsukishima blushes a little.

-> then oikawa appears. EVEYRONE’S EYES ARE FULLY OPEN AND NOYA LET’S OUT A GROAN???

-> but when kyoutani shows up they’re in SO much shock they kinda forget oikawa before, and daichi whispers an “oh god”

-> then it’s BOKUTO’S TURN and tsukishima just stops functioning. asahi is static on his place contemplating, withouth being able to form a coherent thought.

-> suga highkey wants the tea.

-> tendou feels like a betray to asahi, tanaka and tsukishima. noya, just for a second, wonder what was that like.

-> ATSUMU AND OSAMU FUCKING MIYA AND THEY EXPLOTE.

-> THE EXPLOTE LIKE WHAT????? WAS IT AT THE SAME TIME???? Y/N?¡¡¡¿¿1

-> they aren’t ready for the cherry on the top at the end, a picture of terushima sticking his tongue out, sweaty after a match, SMOKING HOT, and it’s not a picture he posted to his social medias or anything.

-> it’s only suga, and daichi a little bit, who realize that if that picture isn’t public, then either he send it to you or YOU TOOK IT.

-> that’s when you walk in the gym, just to say hi before going to change.

-> the first year are playing among each other and you are like ????

-> they don’t even notice you’re there so you go nearer to see what they’re watching. and you see the picture of tersuhima yukie, from fukurodani, once sent asking misaki WHY her kouhais where that hot. it was also the only picture you had of him and the one you used in you video the day before.

-> the phone in suga’s hands seems familiar and... that’s kiyoko’s

-> “Y/N” screams asahi when he sees you and the rest looks like they saw a ghost.

-> a second of silence goes before everyone blows in questions and you just hear names between bambling, “OIKAWA MNASNANPGDF” “MANASKL BODY COUNT ASLKLAS” “MAD DOG!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

-> and daichi makes himself heard despite the screams.

-> “y/n, i know you’re 18 and capable of making your own decisions, but we have to talk about... physical relationships, with our rival teams”

-> kiyoko arrives and quickly puts two and two together and asks yachi to go check on the first years.

-> she looks at you and sees you like WHAT TF DO I DO and nods and say “you shouldn’t have gone through my phone, no matter how curious you are, sugawara-san” COLD AS ICE ISTG.

-> AND SHE CONTINUES “what who y/n does or doesn’t do on her free time is none of your business, all of you, if she decides to get together with anyone it’s just up to her. you should be ashamed of yourself, specially the third years. you weren’t just violating y/n’s privacy, but mine, kaori’s, yukie’s and misaki’s. it may have been a joke, or not, but it doesn’t give you the right. if you ever do something like this again, we will be talking with coach ukai and takeda sensei” SHE GRABS YOUR ARM, TURNS AROUND, CALLS YACHI AND YOU THREE LEAVE LIKE QUEENS????

-> once you’re in the club room, both you and kiyoko start laughing because the team was FROZE in place. not even daichi was so scary.

-> the team then apologizes to both and send an audio to the groupchat too, and never bring the subject uo again.

-> still, they all wonder everyday if you really did or not.

-> and of course, they get so defensive when they see any of the boys in the video it’s hilarious to you and the other managers.

— fukurodani !

-> damn yukie making up dares that always ended up bad for either you or kaori.

-> mostly you doe.

-> at a sleepover, she was like let’s make fake body count vids and who falls asleep first has to show them tomorrow at practice!!! it will be fun!!!

-> you accepted because you usually fell asleep after one of them did but that time it was like they gave you a sleeping pill because you fell like a rock after a few hours.

-> as to why you were there, the day after, about to go ask the team if you should post it.

-> you list consisted on kenma, kita, sakusa, daichi, and just for the fun of it, konoha.

-> the girls call konoha aside so he doesn't ruin the prank, and you proceed.

-> "hey guys, should i post this?? i’m not sure if i look good enough to be seen by the world” bokuto practically yells at you that you always look pretty before taking your phone from your hands.

-> “why don’t you ask yukie or kaori?” asks akaashi, that was a question you hand’t thought about and by pure luck, you were saved by bokuto yelling at the team to come and see what you’ve done.

-> konoha is about to head their way and yukie just grabs his arm like “no ❤️"

-> and nobody can contradict yukie’s no so he has no choice but to stay.

-> anyways

-> the team gather around bokuto, who is about to press play. at first it’s just your face, and everyone agree you look pretty.

-> but then they read “did anyone say body count? ;)” and they look at each other like ......what

-> washio leans to stop the video because he genuinely doesn’t know what body count is, sarukui explains it a little too loud, grinning, and washio goes "oh–"

-> thanks to sarukui’s explanation bokuto confirms his idea because one part of him did think it was how many people you’ve killed.

-> they press play again and kenma appears and bokuto just stares, doesn’t react.

-> akaashi’s eyes widened and he GASPS, washio can’t hide his disappointment mostly because why would you make this video and then show it to them.

-> when kita shows up bokuto lets out a surprised squeak, along with washio that’s just question your and his whole existences-

-> sarukui is smirking, his complete expression yells “way to go y/n!!!”

-> sakusa comes as a shock to every one of them, even sarukui loses the grin for a bit.

-> “how did you manage to...?” whispers akaashi, half amazed, half grossed.

-> bokuto then has to pause it for a little to keep his composure, he looks at your like WHY WOULD YOU MAKE ME GO THROUGH THIS

-> but when they resume it and daichi welcomes him he thinks it just can get any worse.

-> washio is like “isn’t that karasuno’s–?”

-> “HELL YEAH IT IS” SHOUTS SARUKUI AND THE GIRLS BEHIND YOU LAUGH SO HARD BECAUSE HE IS SO PROUD OF YOU.

-> the rest is like 🧍‍♂️ while sarukui is SO happy for you LMAO.

-> it’s at the end when no one smiles. konoha’s picture smiles at them and bokuto just stops the video to look at him, only a few meters away.

-> he looks at the picture and then at konoha and so on.

-> can’t get his mind around it????? lowkey no one can.

-> akaashi isn’t even blinking and his eyes are concerningly open, washio is regretting all his past choices that led to this moment.

-> sarukui death stares at konoha. no more fun sarukui, he crossed the line.

-> kaori and yukie are wheezing WHEEZING I SAY and konoha is so confused.

-> his teammates look like dogs about to attack but he hasn’t done anything to upset them?? has he??

-> like robots, akaashi and bokuto get up and walk towards konoha. a part of you tells you to protect him but... what are they going to do tho...

-> “you’re out of the team” THEY SAY AT THE SAME TIME AND ALL AND KONOHA GOES WHAT

-> your co-managers can’t even breath istg NO HELP

-> you then intervine trying to keep konoha in the team lmao “IT’S FAKE GUYS!! A PRANK!! KAORI!!!! YUKIE!!!! BACK ME UP!!! I’M KIDDING DON’T KICK KONOHA OUT”

-> akaashi partially believes you, but bokuto?? nope.

-> you planted the seed on his mind.

-> the whole team acts weird when they see guys from your vid and are looking for chances to bark at konoha.

-> “AKAASHI HAS TO STAND BETWEEN YOU TWO ALL THE TIME” that’s the new rule he set.

-> just to see them freak out, konoha sometimes flirts with you at practice ;)

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #karasuno hcs #fukurodani headcanons #karasuno headcanons #fukurodani hcs #haikyuu manager #manager reader #haikyuu crack #karasuno crack #fukurodani crack #– star's; originals! [❀]

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sunny-sings-sooth · 3 years ago

Text

Daphne

Words: 4.5k

TW: Sexual assault, abuse

Here's my retelling of the myth of Apollo and Daphne! Highly experimental, as I usually write in first person and not so poetically. Hope you enjoy, and if anything doesn't make sense lemme know and I will add some context here. (Also FYI some of the dialogues are pulled directly from Homer's narration)

_____________________________________________________________

Phoebus Apollonas had been alive too long.

He was young by god standards, barely over a millenia old, and still one of the youngest Olympians. And yet he had grown exhausted. He’d been suffering the curse of life long enough to see the boy he used to be -- Phoebus -- die. The demise of the boy began when, in attempt to protect his sister Artemis, he had committed his first murder and thereby lost her forever. The boy decayed further when he’d held the corpses of his sons in his arms. And he’d finally killed the boy with his own hands when he turned his grief-fueled wrath on mortals. Phoebus, the bright, the innocent, the golden prince of Olympus, was dead. All that remained was Apollonas, the destroyer, the terror, the monstrous god of plague.

Except he no longer wished to be Apollonas. Apollonas was addicted to alcohol, drowning himself in it so that he wouldn’t have to face the memories that had murdered Phoebus. Apollonas had struck his younger brother Hermes, the only friend he had left, in drunken rage. Apollonas was despicable and deserved death. He could never be Phoebus again; that he knew and had accepted. But perhaps he could rid himself of Apollonas and become just Apollo. That did not mean erasing Apollonas; he had too many crimes to pay for, and running away would be a dishonor to all those who had suffered at his hands. He would repent for everything he had done as Apollonas, and thereby recreate himself as Apollo.

The first thing he needed to do was to break alcohol’s hold on him, which meant distancing himself from Dionysus. He didn’t want to abandon his youngest brother, but the temptation to drink was too strong in his presence. He hoped Dionysus would understand, and that he would one day be strong enough to bridge the gap of his creation.

He had been clean for three whole days. It didn’t seem like much -- blink of an eye in the lengthy lives of gods -- but that alone had taken him all his willpower. In the absence of the gallons of drink he had been consuming daily, not only was he plagued by memories and sheer self-hatred, he suddenly became highly attuned to the gossip that trailed him. Every moment on Olympus, hundreds of eyes were trained on him, and the whispers never escaped his sharp ears. It wasn’t that he was not used to being the center of attention, but rather the harsh truth of their statements. Phoebus Apollonas is a murderer. He flayed Marsyas alive for daring to challenge him. He curses anyone who questions his authority. He has killed thousands with his plague arrows. He is a monster. He knew these were all true and that he deserved to be pierced by such words, but the anxiousness caused by his withdrawal made them unbearable, and he had to escape to the woods. Here he found solace. Here he could work to slowly put himself together again until he was strong enough to face those who he wronged.

If he hadn’t been so lost in thought, then perhaps he would’ve heard the flap of wings before Eros was standing before him. He nearly dropped the silver bow that he’d been restringing and looked up to meet the other god’s gaze. Eros was the only man Apollonas considered a possible competitor in terms of beauty; his fair skin was smooth as a pearl, his wings the color of one, his features the aspiration of every artist’s portrait. And yet there was something unnerving about the other god. Perhaps it was his hair that, while comparable to a young maiden’s blush, was also the same shade as blood. Perhaps it was the deep red hue of his eyes, made of crushed hearts and rubies. And perhaps it wasn’t his appearance at all, but the mystique that surrounded him; he was the fourth being to come into existence and was old as time itself, and that was one of the only two things Apollonas knew about him.

“Phoebus Apollona,” Eros stated in greeting, and Apollonas hated how wrong it sounded, though he couldn’t tell if it was the names themselves or simply the one who spoke them.

“What do you want?” He couldn’t hide his irritation. The other thing he knew about Eros was that he was the god of love, and love had only ever caused Apollonas pain. He had no reason to like the god nor felt the need to veil his displeasure. All he wanted was the solitude necessary to rework himself.

“I was simply admiring your bow, oh He Who Shoots From Afar.” There was no missing the mockery in Eros’s voice, and his eyes gleamed as he gazed at the weapon. “Why, your skill is almost comparable to my own! Perhaps with some effort, you can become the greatest archer in the land.”

“Are you implying that you are the greatest archer?” Eros nodded, and one glance at the winged god’s slim arms and the modest bow slung across his back sent Apollonas into a fit of laughter. It was many moments before he could calm himself enough to speak. “What have you to do with the arms of men, you feeble thing?”

“I am merely suggesting I may be god of archery as you are god of plague.” Apollonas’s head snapped up at the idea, and his hands curled into fists as he stood, towering over the shorter god. If Eros was a painter’s fantasy, then Apollonas was a sculptor’s. His toned body was the epitome of perfection, the ideal balance between strength and beauty. He was well aware of this fact, and though he rarely preferred to use his appearance for intimidation purposes, Eros’s insult necessitated such action.

“Do not lay claim to my honors,” he hissed, his sky blue eyes glinting with divine power. Archery was the one constant he could always rely on. With his bow and arrows, he could protect and punish, wound and save. It was the one part of him that stayed no matter if he was Phoebus or Apollonas or whoever, and he’d be damned if he allowed this worthless winged wretch to even suggest taking that from him.

“Let us put it to test, then,” Eros declared, unfazed by the archer’s anger. What would the ancient deity have to fear from the youth? He was well aware of his capability, and little did Apollonas know he was falling into another trap, his emotions and naivety deceiving him once more. He was but a pawn in Eros’s game. “What say you to a battle of skill?”

Apollonas did not grace the other with an answer, lifting his weapon and drawing an arrow from his golden quiver in response. The toned muscles of his back flexed as he pulled back the string and released, and the arrow had barely gone forth an inch before he sent forward another, and then yet another. His arms were but a blur as arrow after arrow went flying, striking the most minuscule of targets: the pupil of a fly’s eye, the thread of a spider’s web, the stem of a single olive. Apollonas did not stop until his quiver lay empty, and he took in the perfect shots before him that seemed almost artistic by his hand. No matter how low he may have descended in these past years, there was no denying the masterpiece he created from the most basic of weapons. This was his domain. He couldn’t keep his lips from curling in conceit as he turned to Eros.

“That gear becomes my shoulders best,” he declared, setting his bow back beside his quiver to draw emphasis to the weapons that had adorned him for centuries. “I wound my enemies; I wound wild beasts. My countless arrows slew the bloated Python, whose vast coils across so many acres spread their blight. You and your loves!” Apollonas couldn’t hold back his scoff at the mention of Eros’s inferior work. “You have your torch to light them. Let that content you. Never claim my fame!”

“Your bow, Phoebus Apollona, may vanquish all, but mine shall vanquish you. As every creature yields to power divine, shall your glory yield to mine.” At Eros’s threat, an enraged response was making its way up Apollonas’s throat, but before it could spill off his tongue, the love god drew his own golden-tipped arrow. In the blink of an eye, he shot it forth right into the other god’s heart before taking flight.

Apollonas stumbled back, a gasp more of shock than pain escaping him as he clasped his hands over his chest, fingers fumbling for the arrow. However, it had already dissolved into him, its magic making its home in his body. He felt something ooze into his heart and bloodstream, shoot up his spine, ensnare his mind. He turned his attention inward, trying to identify the invader, but he could not locate it, nor could he compare it to anything he had ever felt before. What had Eros done? He lifted his head, searching for the god, but instead his gaze fell upon another figure altogether.

There, a few feet away, stood the sweet river nymph Daphne. He knew her -- he knew the names of many of the nymphs that resided in these woods -- but beyond a passing glance and a murmured greeting, she had never caught his attention. But now… he couldn’t seem to look away, his lips parting in awe as he stared at her, dumbfounded. Had she always been so breathtaking? How could he have missed such a beauty? Her dark locks flowed down like a waterfall of ink. What it would be to hold that silky hair between his fingers, to braid it and adorn it with flowers and beads! Her eyes were a startling shade of not blue, not green, but something between the two, and he could spend hours drowning in their depths. Her figure had the slightest curve to it, the outline of a river, and he imagined that her body had been crafted to fit against his perfectly. He saw her, loved her, wanted her.

“Daphne.” Apollonas whispered her name, marvelling at the nectar-like flavor that coated his tongue. If just her name was so sweet, then how must her lips taste? Looking was not enough. The urge to find out was unbearable, the earlier argument stolen from his mind entirely as he found himself tossing aside his bow and quiver. What did archery matter when he could master the bow of her lips instead? He would claim it, make it and the rest of her his and his alone. He took a step forth, a giddy smile alighting his features.

“St-stay back,” the nymph stammered, icy fear coiling in the depths of her stomach. She could read his intentions clearly on his face, from the crazed look in his eyes to the wolfish grin he wore to the way his hands reached towards her. Daphne knew all too well what this man planned to do with her, and that should she fall into his grasp, she would not be able to stop him from having his way. So when he took another step forward, she turned and ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Apollonas gaped only a moment before rushing after her, an arrow released from its bow.

“Daphne, please wait! I am no foe! You don’t need to fear me!” he cried out after her. Daphne did not answer him, her thoughts only on escaping. Thorns and brambles tore at the bare skin of her calves, yet she refused to slow down. “You run as if I am a wolf and you a lamb, but that is not so! It is love that spurs me! Don’t fly so fast, lest you fall and wound yourself!”

“Leave me be, you horrid man!” she shrieked, not stopping even as her dress got caught on the surrounding plants and began to tear, revealing her to him little by little. Apollonas’s brows furrowed in worry at the sight of bloodied cuts on her legs. From within him a voice called out: What are you doing, Apollona? Why are you tormenting this poor girl? Leave her be! You will not have your way with her! But before the voice could say more, he caught a glimpse of the bare skin of her thigh, and everything left his mind. His conscience was once more bound and gagged by Eros’s power, forced to watch it all in horror. Speaking of the god of love, he also watched, flying unnoticed above them, yet he felt only amusement from the sight. The sheer terror that had contorted Daphne’s face and drawn panicked tears from her eyes made him smirk, and Apollonas’s frantic yelling drew out peals of laughter. They had both bent to his will so easily, and he was eager to see how this played out.

“You run because you do not know. I am no peasant, no shepherd!” Apollonas called out to her again. She was only afraid because he didn’t know who he was. He knew the moment she realized his true identity, she would stop and turn to him with a blessed smile. “I am the son of Zeus, prince of Olympus, lord of Delphi. By me things future, past and present are revealed. I shape the harmony of songs and strings. You will be happy as my bride, dear Daphne! I will see that your every wish is granted and that no desire goes unfulfilled. Please stay!”

“No! My only desire is to escape you!” Yet this would not be granted, as her body was beginning to fail her. Try as she might, she could not outrun Apollonas; he was strong from years of training and battle, and though she was swift and sure-footed, she had used up all her limited mortal strength. Her legs trembled with every step, her lungs two pits of fire in her chest. And so her traitorous body came to a stop as she gasped for breath, and Apollonas finally had her. He held her hip tightly, freezing her in place. Had he been in his senses and had control over his own body, he’d never have done this, and his conscience screamed within him. But he was deaf to it, the lust coursing through him silencing all else. His eyes soaked in her bare skin when he would’ve shielded them, his hands pulled her closer when he would’ve let her go, and he was ready to claim her when he would’ve done anything but this crime.

“My love.” His warm breath brushed against her ear as he leaned down, pressing his lips against the pale column of her neck. Daphne gasped and tried to pull herself away, but his grip was too strong, utterly unbreakable. How could she escape a god? She was helpless and frail, trapped and alone. There was no one to aid her, no one to stop Apollonas from running his hands down her body and forcing himself against her. And then he was turning her around, wishing to taste her lips, and a final plea escaped her.

“Help me, Peneus!” she screamed for her father. She knew her father could do nothing against an Olympian, but perhaps he could do something to her, and she would accept any escape from this fate. “Open the earth to enclose me, or change my form, which has brought me into this danger! Let me be free of this man from this moment forward!”

Daphne’s prayer was answered, and she was changing.

A stiffness had taken over her body, the swiftness that had protected her for so long sacrificed to escape Apollonas. Her arms lifted of their own accord, her fingers elongating up and her feet rooting into the ground. The dark waterfall split into a hundred streams that lightened to a soft green. Her curved figure fell away as her body thinned into a single arc, her legs fusing and her hands reaching higher and higher. Bark was creeping up from her extremities, down what were now branches and up what had transformed into a trunk. It conquered her shoulders, her chest, her neck. A soft sigh, her last breath, escaped her just as her lips were encased.

Apollonas’s lips met rough bark that cut at his soft skin. With a small gasp, his eyes flew open and he looked straight into Daphne’s piercing eyes. The waves in them had finally calmed, as the storm that had tormented them could no longer ripple its waters. He stared into those beautiful orbs, breathing her name, and watched as they shut forever.

Apollonas couldn’t tear his gaze away, his mind still unable to process the transformation that had unfolded before him. His hand trembled as he raised it, placing flat against the trunk of the tree. A steady pulse graced his fingertips -- a heartbeat. Daphne’s heartbeat. She was this tree, this sorrowful laurel tree, lost from him forever. His legs gave out beneath him as he wept, wrapping his arms around her and leaning his head against her bark. And yet the lust hadn’t left him, and he was kissing the wood over and over, whispering her name and an endless string of apologies as the skin of his lips tore and blood dripped down his chin.

“Oh, Daphne. My Daphne,” he cried, yearning what could’ve been. He thought the image of her smiling sweetly at him, kissing his cheek and calling him ‘husband’, was a vision, a prophecy promising that he could be the source of her happiness until the end of time. But he was wrong. It had been a fantasy, a dream that had slipped out of his grasp. And now she was gone. His sobs doubled in intensity as grief wracked him, and he didn’t notice Eros approaching until he spoke.

“Isn’t this a beautiful sight?” the god of love asked, his lips twisting into a smirk. “Phoebus Apollonas, broken and filthy inside and out. A slave to his desires. Do you accept defeat, oh lustful one?”

Apollonas turned to the other god, and the grief in him sharpened to rage. His beautiful Daphne, the love of his life, had been stolen from him, snatched right out of his hands, and the cause of it all was simply standing there, taking amusement in his loss. He reached for his bow only to find it missing, and so he lunged forth and tackled Eros to the ground, wrapping his hands around the smaller man’s thin neck.

“You monster,” Apollonas growled, his sky blue eyes glowing with divine power. This horrid creature had taken his Daphne from him and deserved nothing less than death. Apollonas would deliver him to the gates of Tartarus himself if necessary. The man must pay for his crimes. He increased the pressure, causing the other god to choke under his iron grip. “You did this!”

“Oh no, Apollona. I merely gave you a nudge. The rest was all you,” Eros gasped out, managing to laugh even as his windpipe threatened to collapse altogether. The sun god’s brows furrowed at the statement, and Eros subtly waved his hand, calming the effects of his magic. “And who knows what you’ll do next if I keep nudging you forth? You’ll be giving your father quite the competition, won’t you?”

The spell finally broke, and Apollonas’s grip slackened as the lust drained out of him and the truth became clear. He had chased Daphne. He had chased Daphne with the intention to force himself on her. He had tried to kiss her and claim her as his own with no care for her terror. He pushed her so far that she thought it better to lose her humanity than to be his. Oh Fates, what had he done? You are the most wicked person to live, Phoebus Apollona. You are no better than your father. You did this to that poor girl. You ruined her.

“N-no,” he whispered, backing away from Eros and clamping his hands over his ears, but it was in vain. The voice came not from outside but from within, where his conscience was finally free to reclaim its owner. And so Apollonas relived the incident that had just taken place. He saw himself chase after her just as Python had chased him and his family, heard his plans to ruin her just as he believed Orion had intended with Artemis, felt himself force himself upon her just as Zeus did to his mother Leto. Never in his life had something been so achingly clear to him as this truth: while he had spent his whole life painting others as wicked, he had been the most terrible monster all along. Apollonas doubled over, spilling his insides onto the earth as though he could purge the maliciousness from his body. But alas, he could not; he was born the destroyer, and he had truly lived up to his name. He could not tell if his scream remained in his soul or ripped out of him. He didn’t know if it was tears or fire spilling from his eyes. All he knew was the terrible truth that he has been blind to all his life.

“You are weak, boy. But I can make you strong,” Eros declared, towering over the hysterical god. He wondered how Olympus would react to seeing their golden heir broken on the ground, sobbing like a spoiled child. He could only imagine they’d be just as entertained as he. Still, the time for games was over. Making sure to avoid the pool of vomit, he crouched down and placed a thin finger under Apollonas’s chin, forcing the young god to meet his gaze. “Here is my offer to you: vow to me on the river Styx that you will follow my every command, and I will save you from further humiliation and heartbreak.”

“What, so I can spend my life blind and deaf, a mindless slave to a heartless man?” A dry, humorless laugh slipped out of Apollonas’s lips. He had seen and tasted truth, and he would not give that up to become Eros’s puppet. He scowled and spat at the love god’s feet, glaring into those blood-red eyes. “That is what I think of your offer.”

“I expected the god of intellect to be wiser than this, but I now see the difference between you and Athena.” Eros sneered, wrinkling his nose at the sorry display. “Do not be hasty, godling, and ponder my words carefully. I am offering you invulnerability. I will harden your heart to stone so that none may hurt you. Without your greatest weakness, you will be unstoppable. You will never have to feel such pain again.”

Apollonas paused for a moment, considering Eros’s claim. To never feel this soul-tearing agony again? To be free of the organ that rebelled against his mind at every moment? Now that he contemplated it, the offer was quite tempting. Without his heart, he would only have to rely on his body and mind, both of which were immaculate. He would indeed be unstoppable, finally the golden heir of Olympus he was expected to be. And yet… his gaze moved to the laurel tree, and a single leaf drifted down before him. Apollonas caught it in the palm of his hand, carefully tracing its pale green veins. If he were to remove his heart, to lose his ability to feel, would that not be a dishonor to Daphne? After all he had put her through, did she not deserve to be mourned and remembered? And what about all the others, every mortal that had suffered at his hand? He would be spitting on their graves by choosing to run away from the pain that, in the face of what torment they had lived through, was nothing. And so Apollonas rose to his feet, stretching to full height and then kneeling down so that his face was merely inches from the love god’s. “Rot. In. Tartarus.”

“You really should have chosen the easy path,” Eros muttered, the smirk sliding off his face as he grit his teeth. Apollonas wanted to regret? Then he’d give him reason to regret. His hands flew to Apollonas’s temples, freezing the younger god in place. Eros’s eyes glowed, twin pits of lava, and his voice boomed as he invoked his ancient power. “I curse you, Phoebus Apollona. May love be your enemy and your heart a traitor. May you be powerless to control the whims of your desire, and may you be the cause of pain to those you love, over and over until the end of time itself.”

Apollonas fell to the ground once more, struggling as the curse rooted itself deep in his soul, at the very essence of his being. By the time his throat had grown too raw for him to continue screaming, Eros had already flown away, leaving behind nothing but punishment. He found himself crawling back to the laurel tree, to Daphne, leaning his forehead against her trunk as he wept. He wept for her, for those before her, and for those after her.

“I’m sorry, Daphne,” he whispered, holding on so tightly the bark dug into his skin and realizing how powerless he really was. “I’d change you back if I could, sweet nymph, but I cannot. Instead, I swear by the river Styx, I won’t let you be forgotten. I bless you so that your leaves are never shed and instead will be woven in wreaths that will become a symbol of honor, the very thing I tried to steal from you. Let mankind see me to be the monster I am if that means your memory will live on. And even if your name no longer forms on the lips of men, they will live on eternally upon my own. This I vow to you.”

With this, he lay one last touch upon the tree before turning away, trudging his leaden feet back to Olympus. He heard the whispers as he arrived in the city, but he paid them no mind and made way to his house. Barely moments after he entered, his fingers scurried over the wall until they found the loose brick that he yanked out and tossed aside. His hands trembled in a moment of hesitation before reaching in. He grasped the bottle of his poison, his secret, his solace. Apollonas lifted it to his lips, tears running down his face, and drank his worries away.

#Apollo #apollon #apollo deity #greek mythology #greek gods #greek myth #daphne

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nadezhda-wexler · 3 years ago

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A Moment In Time, Again and Again

Hello @xoxobuckybarnes, It is I, your Summer Fic Exchange writer for @b99fandomevents. Thank you for all your amazing prompts, but I ended up choosing “The Squad after ten years”. I really hope you enjoy it.

Also a few points:

1) The whole story is non-linear. It’s like a series of snapshots. It’s related, but chronologically the don’t really make sense

2) It is smut adjacent? Implied smut? Idk, It’s just a few lines because honestly, it’s my first time writing anything like that

3) There might be some spelling errors and grammatical error, sorry if they put a damper on your experience

4) Thank you @b99fandomevents for giving this chance

5) MOST IMPORTANTLY: I hope you enjoy it.

There were many reasons Amy thought that might bring the squad together- well, mainly one- Scully dying (the man was already decaying when she was in the precinct), but this was not it. In fact, this was the opposite of it.

She reads the sign again, still wondering if she dreamt it up. But nope. Norm Scully and Cindy Shatz were indeed getting married.

Amy walks into her old turf: Shaw’s Bar. She feels like she stepped into another universe, everything is different, but somehow, the same. It’s the place she came to right after her wedding. The stools are different and the bar more worn, but the place still feels warm like her wedding night. The back door leads right to the alley where she once tried to conceive (that was a low point) and judging by the fact the Hitchcock is standing right outside the bathroom with Scully nowhere in sight, she guesses even the bathroom smells (stinks) the same.

Her eyes sweep over the room, she can see Rosa and Gina huddles together and she already feels bad for their victim, Holt and Kevin are talking to Terry- it never stops amusing her seeing the very passionate Captain Jeffords squared against impassive Retd Captain Holt and Kevin. Charles is haranguing the caterers, when she hears a voice from behind: “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.”

They had just gotten into the airport- Jake is bringing all their luggage while she is trying to get her children to calm down. While Maya knows everyone in the squad, Mac has lived with them more. So Mac has decided to fill in the blanks. His stories are wild and absolutely untrue and Maya is hanging onto each word. She was looking to see where her husband was when Maya suddenly tugged her hand and asked in wonder “Did Daddy really catch a thief by sending Mac in undercover?” “No. Your daddy never sent Mac undercover because he isn’t a cop and he is a baby”. “Well, I am not a baby and dad did do that, he just didn’t tell you”

“What didn’t I tell your mom?”Jake joins them, luggage in tow. “That you sent me undercover to catch that thief” “Mac”, Jake says with fake indignation. “You weren’t supposed to tell that. It was our secret” Mac’s eyes has that same mischievous glint she has seen a million times on her husband’s face as he says he told her to maya and launches into his story. They’re loading their luggage into the cart when Jake’s phone buzzes. “That’s Charles and he has already called me 5 times and messaged me a lot. I stopped counting after 10”, Jake says. “Kids, your Uncle Charles is waiting. You know how he gets when you are late!”, he adds.

Mac, without any prompt, holds his sister's hands, so as to not lose her, still continuing with the stories of his feats, she’s sure, without missing a beat. Her heart swells as she watches her kids, Mac being a protective older brother and Maya holding onto his hands and words. Her husband’s hand slips into hers as he asks “You ready to go?” She couldn’t be happier.

"Captain Santiago"

"Captain Holt! Hi!" Apparently even his retirement hasn't made Santiago less flustered. He won't deny there is a part of him that enjoys the reverence. "How was your first year running a precinct, Captain?" He enjoys calling her Captain almost as much as she enjoys hearing it.

"Great! Super cool. Fantastic. Dope. No diggity no doubt" He briefly wonders if she had a stroke.

"Okay, you saw right through me. It's not been easy. Manhattan is completely different from Brooklyn. The squad is also new, they all just transferred about a month or two before me. So they don't even know each other so everyone is walking on tiptoes. And they follow everything I say, but don't really see me as a leader."

"Well, the first precinct I ran, I had a detective who only cared about closing cases, everyone in the squad thought I was a robot, my two best detectives had a bet with each other, my Sargent was chained to the desk and the office administrator was Gina and I had Hitchcock and Scully"

"You are right. I shouldn't complain. I don't have a Hitchcock and Scully"

"No. But that was not what I was trying to say. Once I got closer to all of them, I realised that the detective who did not care, cares not just care about closing cases, the bet made both detectives better, my Sargent saved my life, Gina is still Gina and that being a robot doesn't make me a worse Captain. What you need to do Santiago, is trust your squad. You have a unique opportunity to build this team. But you cannot do that without unflinching trust. So trust them. Help them and let them help you. And if you ever feel the need, please do not hesitate to contact me. I might have retired from the force, but not from being your mentor"

"Wow! Thank you so much Captain. That means the world to me." Some people might call Amy Santiago a teacher's pet in an attempt to mock her, but the truth is she is a teacher's pet because she is a brilliant student. She revels in learning and enjoys implementing her knowledge even more. She is a teacher's pet not just because she is adept at brown nosing- which she admittedly does sometimes, but because she will be the student that teachers can one day be proud of. He might tell her this if it did not make her explode and also because Amy Santiago understands him, so he just smiles.

They had barely reached the terminal before Charles pounced on Jake. Amy and the kids barely had the time to move away from being hit. Genevieve and Amy unload the luggage while the kids catch up. It takes the men one whole minute before they let go.

"Genevieve, thank you so much for taking the kids", Amy says.

"Of course Nikolaj loves hanging out with Mac and Maya. It's my pleasure to watch them."

"Still, thank you! And Jake-"

"NO!", Charles almost pushes her down trying to get between Jake and her. "You get him every other day Amy, you cannot poach him away today."

"Charles, I am not trying to poach him away. I just wanted to tell him to enjoy the night and have fun. Also you visited not three weeks ago and you guys FaceTime constantly."

"FaceTiming is not the same Amy! It has been 28 days, 14 hours aaand three minutes since I have been covered in Jake's musk"

“Ugh! Alright", Jake says. "Charles, why don't you take these two bags and load them into the cab while Amy and I bring the rest?"

"Okay.", Charles says almost defeatedly. "Don't be late."

Jake turns to her. "So what are your plans again?"

"I will go to the hotel, have a long bath after which Rosa and Gina will come pick me up for the bachelorette party after which both will crash with me because according to Gina quote if I am going to stand next to you as a bridesmaid, you need to at least be six and you need help with that unquote"

"I still can't believe Cindy asked you and Gina to be one of the bridesmaids"

"Well, we did help them get together."

"Yeah. And as this goes on, I will be with Charles hoping whatever he made is edible and missing you terribly"

"Stop being a sap Peralta. And have fun tonight"

"It’s Peralta- Santiago, FYI. And I will 100% have fun, but I'm still gonna miss you. I gotta go before Charles comes back. I love you"

"I love you too."

It was a tiring night and Amy just wants to take her makeup off and she really wants to be out of this dress for more than one reason. As much as she loves her kids- and that is a lot- she is glad that they wanted to stay at Holt's place. The kids love their Fauxpas (they are her kids, of course they know what faux pas means and more importantly, when Mac very proudly said it, both Kevin and Holt agreed that "it is a humorous wordplay"). Mac can never get enough of Holt's stories and Maya loves the Classics. She can recite Odyssey from memory. And both of them get away with things that only they (and maybe her husband) can- some stains of orange juice, mud in the house, a few broken glasses- all.of these are forgiven because it's their fauxchildren's doing (it doesn't work as well, but Holt was proud and Maya laughed and so it stuck). And after two days of wedding prep, she really needs a day without being worried about someone breaking something or constantly screaming. And even more than that with the way her husband has been looking at her all night, she really, really needs to be the one screaming.

She is halfway through taking off her makeup when Jake, sans jacket, (but with tie and damn, her husband looks fine) walks in. He puts his hand on her waist. "Babe, do you know how hot you look?"

"Oh is it the running mascara that does it for you?"

He pulls her in closer and from his look she knows that the screaming she was hoping is definitely happening. He says in a low voice into her ear, "No. It's you." It's like each word he says vibrates inside her. "You having been driving me crazy all day. You in that blue dress. You knowing exactly how amazing your butt looks in that dress. You taking control when everything was falling apart. It's you Ames who does it for me."

She turns around and pulls him by the tie and kisses him hard and he's lifting her up onto the counter, kissing every bit of her as he lowers his head between her legs. She thanks the stars that this is her life partner.

(And later she'll counting the same as Jake twists his wrist in the way that he knows will bring over the edge.)

Every time Jake sees his wife, he falls in love with her a little more. Which he wouldn't have believed possible sixteen years ago. She hasn't spotted him, so he takes her in for a minute. Every time he steps into Shaw's Bar, he remembers walking in as a newly wed couple. Sure afterwards the evening did take a turn, but until then it was perfect. Except before that when there was a bomb threat and an actual bomb and Teddy proposing like a thousand times. Wow, his wedding day was a mess. But still it was one of the happiest days of his life because even through all that, he was hitched to the most beautiful woman in the world. Who is now watching everyone waiting for him.

So he walks up to her, drinks in hand and says, “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.”

"Ooh , Casablanca", she takes a glass. "Yes. Charles and I watched it yesterday. We didn't even know what was going on half the time because Charles was crying and making noises half the time."

"Oh, just Charles?" "Okay fine I was crying a little too. Okay a lot. Fine I was the one who was crying the most. Happy?"

"Oh babe. It's cute that you think you should say that to me as if you didn't watch it for the first time with me"

"Oh yeah. Well, I tried. Oh before you ask, the kids are all at the Jeffords' house and Cagney and Lacey are keeping an eye on them. And the best part: without a babysitter's fee."

"Wow, I really missed friends' kids doing things for us for free. Remember when we babysat Cagney and Lacey for like three days straight, without even thinking of money?"

"And if we were to go by the amount our babysitters charge, we'd have enough money to buy Orangina for a whole month."

They move to the counter, perched on the barstools. "You know Captain Holt just called me Captain"

"He's been calling you a Captain for a year babe, you know, cause you've been a Captain for a year!"

"I know! Can you believe?!"

"Of course, because you are awesome and amazing"

"Oh, and he also said that he's still my mentor and that I can call him for advice any time."

"Wow, obviously today was a big day for you"

"I know" Her whole face is lit up. Her cheeks are flushed, from the drinks and the running around making things happen, from the many catching up and from the fact that her mentor called her Captain. Once again he's a little bit more in love. His eyes catch Cindy and Scully awkwardly shuffling around trying to dance. Hitchcock is trying to hide the fact that he's disappointed, but doing a pretty bad job of it. He sees Charles and Genevieve almost having sex which apparently is how they dance. The music changes to something familiar and his wife looks amazing and he wants to dance with her very much. "Amy Santiago- Peralta, may I have this dance? And don't worry, it's reinforced shoes so I won't even know if you step on me." "Ha ha Peralta- Santiago. You are my teacher, so if I'm stepping on your toes, it's your own fault"

"Wow, blaming the victim."

They are on the dance floor, her hand in his, hand on his shoulder, his on her waist. He can see every little detail on her face, the mascara running a bit, lipstick that's smudged. Her perfectly set hair, falling around the edges. She's beautiful.

"I wonder why all the greatest love stories are so tragic"

"Because that's what makes them great. The fact that their love is so powerful that it's unattainable."

"Well I think that it's stupid."

"What?"

"That the greatest love of our life is the one we don't have. It's categorically untrue. My favourite love story has a happy ending anyway"

"You mean Morticia and Gomez?"

"That's my second favourite"

"Well, what's your first?"

"Ours, of course" She smiles and that's all he ever wants to see.

Her hand is in his, the other moves to his chest. His are around her waist circling, as he pulls her closer and she rests her cheek on shoulder. He buries his nose in her hair and she nuzzles into his neck. If he'd imagined a perfect life sixteen years ago, not even in his wildest dreams he'd have thought he could feel like this.

#b99fandomevents #b99 fanfic #jake x amy #Okay #listen #it's my first time writing anything smut adjacent and so all I can hope for is that it isn't cringey #Also maybe the love story dialouge is a bit cheesy #and maybe it really doesn't mesh well #but i wanted it.#but honestly #i just hope yall enjoy this #i dont want my tags to be longer than the story #so ill stop.

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anika-ann · 4 years ago

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WINSoD - Pt.3

...from Here on Now

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2, part 3)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 2810

Summary: In which Steve’s soulmate does something a bit risky that bites her in her ass. Almost. Matt Murdock loses his mind too. A bit.

Warnings: blood and violence, mention of death, brief flashback, language

Part 2

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

The second thought? Oh shit.

No, scratch that – your second thought was ‘Holy shit, Steve has very quick reflexes.’

The same moment the sound reached your ears and shook your very core, you were tackled to the ground and shielded by Steve’s impressive frame, a flash of panic in his bright eyes. He wasn’t losing any time gazing into yours though, assessing the sudden chaos and switching to his Avenger mode in a fraction of second.

Your mind was slower than his, but one thing wormed its way through your brain immediately; yes, it was in fact an army of fucking robots crashing the party, lined up and levitating two feet above the ground.

The fuck-

You suspected that the robots were mind-readers on top of everything, when one of them, bigger than the others, spoke up into the momentary stunned silence, his voice hoarse and rough as if he was smoking two packs of cigarettes a day: “Sorry to crash the party, folks.”

Another beat of silence and the robots rocketed off simultaneously with the first scream that set off a cacophony of horror.

Steve’s voice broke through the eardrum-tearing noise.

“Stay down and get the hell out of here,” he hissed, jumped to his feet in an impressive speed and took off to be the hero he was.

Why was he giving you opposite orders? That didn’t make any- it took you a moment to realize he didn’t mean for you to lie on the floor and make your escape at the same time, just wanted you not to run with your back straightened.

To be fair, you were too dumbstruck by the desperation stuffed into the simple order, carrying so much more meaning than the actual sentence, to have a clear mind.

Run. I don’t care how and where, I don’t care what you need to do to get out of here, but you run and don’t look back. Get to safety, no matter what.

As you crouched, your eyes flickering over the chaos of a room, you caught Tony’s calculating gaze and gave him an inconspicuous nod; a second later, his gaze fell on something else and you followed his line of sight to Pepper. You exchanged a silent conversation and sprang to action.

Here was a thing: Tony Stark was a technical genius.

His trust in his own technology and security systems was immense.

His trust in his own technology and security systems was not unconditional.

Tony Stark was a paranoid bastard of a man, which was something he could bond over with Steve; the Steve after your death that was.

Because of Steve’s paranoia and understandable fear, Natasha had been forced to teach you a bit of hand-to-hand combat. Jarvis had been forced to go over the plans of the Avengers Tower and escape routes for million times with you.

The part Steve was clearly forgetting now was that Tony hadn’t failed to inform you about the two different panic rooms, technology free; or maybe he was just forgetting the part in which he tended to inspire people around him.

In this case it meant there was no way you would park your ass in one of those panic rooms and let the hell that had broken loose rain on everyone else, on people who were as much of civilians as you were.

And Pepper was about to help you.

Steve was about to kill you later, but you would have to live long enough to let him, so that was the least of your concerns.

As the Captain had told you, you did run and tried to stay down. You just happened to pick everyone you could reach on your way and beg them to pass the information about the panic rooms over. You cursed Tony for his fondness of crowds. This would have been much easier if it was the Avengers and close circle only; mostly because nearly everyone would be able to protect themselves and wouldn’t be busy running while the Earth’s mightiest heroes tried to keep the fight away from civilians.

But life wasn’t always easy.

You spotted Tamara’s blond hair in the sea of faces and soon realized she joined you on your mission, clearly having been informed on the panic rooms as well. You saw several people you had barely become familiar with tonight, a pair of charming dorky lawyers among them; you were relieved when you saw the one with longer hair helping his very much blind friend.

Some women were losing their shoes on purpose, some due to being dragged away by the crowd. You fought your way forward, happy you weren’t wearing any killer heels, people following you like a herd; at least the individuals who hadn’t followed Pepper three floors lower.

“End of the hall, come on. Heavy door, no electronic locks. Just open it and squish as many inside as you can,” you urged a responsibly-looking man whose name you couldn’t recall at the moment, but he didn’t seem bothered by it, instantly following the instruction and speeding up to let the others in. You stayed on the corner, making sure everyone headed the right direction in their panic.

The screams were deafening, the influx of people seemingly never-ending and you silently prayed no one had been left behind. You tried very hard not to think about Steve and others fighting fucking robots.

Finally, the last guests ran past you; well, ran as much as they could. You joined the duo of lawyers (an occupancy that somehow got stuck in your mind), of whom one was an ironic representative of the justice being blind.

“You think that was everyone?” you asked, purposely not addressing one or the other. For one, you didn’t want to be rude, but to be honest, you managed to forget their actual names as well.

“Yeah, I hope so. This is insane,” the one with longer hair hurried and maybe it was only your imagination, but he appeared rather calm considering how insane the situation was.

Then again, some might say you were too. You felt like in some sort of a haze; your body was doing things you couldn’t remember ordering it, acting despite your insides clenching, heart so frantic you might as well go into a cardiac arrest. You were thankful for the autopilot mode; running side by side with the two men definitely looked like a good idea, even if you weren’t aware of coming up with it.

Until you were yanked back by your shoulder and the hem of your dress, sent flying and landing on your side.

“Shit,” you hissed as the sharp pain shot through your whole arm, your ribs crying out as well.

Fuck, fuck that hurt. How was Steve doing it, landing like that all the time and almost making it look like fun?!

Not relevant.

Really not relevant right now.

You scrambled away from the mechanical torso hovering above the ground, almost appearing to examine you. Perhaps it was wondering whether you were about to get up? You didn’t want to, FYI. The pain was coming in waves now, pulsating somewhere deep inside of your muscles. Or was it your bones?

The voices at the end of the hall fell silent and you guessed the last people made it to the room. The raging fight in the party space was still rumbling through the walls, vibrating in your chest. Or was it just your heart?

“Well, this is ironic,” the robotic voice you remembered from when the big robot crashed the party hummed.

How the hell did all the robots have the same voice?

NOT RELEVANT.

You pushed up to your feet, ready to either fight or flee, unsure which you had better chances succeeding at.

You doubted you had the slightest chance at either.

“You’re out of luck. Guess the Captain will have to deal with your loss once more.”

The two simple sentences froze you on spot, crushing something deep within you. A memory of a mad smile, of a desperate voice, of fire and agony coursing through your veins turned you into a statue.

‘With your loss.’

With your death. You were gonna die.

There was no fighting off this thing; certainly not with your simple human nature and lame skills.

You felt the uncontrollable tremor in your muscles, your throat closing off with surging panic. You couldn’t even breathe, let alone defend yourself when the mechanical monster with glowing red eyes raised its arm, the sound of charging nearly causing your ears to bleed.

You spotted Bucky with the corner of your eye, but you knew it was too late. He was too far away; no matter how much he sped up, horror having his face lose all colour, he wouldn’t make it, because he carried no long-distance weapon.

You squeezed your eyes shut, curled into yourself and thought of your soulmate, the way he held you when he found out you were alive and with your memories back.

Steve’s heart will break, for real this time, a small voice whispered in the back of your head, and he’s not gonna handle it. You sent a quick mental sorry.

Funny how you thought of him instead of yelling ‘I don’t want to fucking die!’

And the blast was still not coming.

Instead, there was a loud crash that had you snap your eyes open in an instant, only to come face to face with shocked Bucky; with Bucky, who was still several feet away, crossing the remaining distance in an impressive speed.

Another man was engaged in a furious battle of limbs, a punch there, a spin-jump-kick a second after, knocking the heap of components right onto Bucky’s metallic arm; the robot was cut in half, Bucky’s arm going through it like a knife through butter.

What was left of the machine hit the ground with a clatter, the glow in its eyes fading until it died completely.

A man in a cheap suit was standing with his bloody fists raised, facing a very cautious and panting Bucky. You wanted to say thank you to your saviours, but you couldn’t find your voice, still struggling to breathe in.

It wasn’t until a pair of warm brown eyes appeared in front of your face, blindly staring onto your mouth, until your brain rebooted and made the connection along with telling you to how to breathe in.

It was the lawyer. The very much blind lawyer, an incarnation of the famous saying, one of the dorky pair of defenders of justice.

He just saved your life. By fighting the robot like a Bruce freaking Lee.

“What the- the hell just- hap-happened?” you rasped, the palm of your unharmed arm pressed against your ribcage to feel your own heart, your chest expanding with every breath.

Still breathing. Heart still beating. Not dead. Just really fucking scared and confused.

“Yeah. I was wondering the same thing,” Bucky growled, but with an audible trace of gratitude towards the man. His worried gaze fell on you, searching your face as his intimidating fighting stance eased. “But now is not the time. Let’s get you to Steve before he loses his mind. He flipped out when he saw you helping others instead of running off.”

You took a shuddering breath, closing your eyes and letting the sudden absence of the roar of battle wash over you.

“Hey. You’re okay. It’s gone. Can I touch your shoulder? The one that’s not injured,” a voice coaxed you and you mentally catalogued it as the lawyer’s.

A low warning grumble sounded on your right, but you nodded. You tried not to think about how the hell a blind man, who was apparently moonlighting like a ninja, knew about your shoulder pulsing with agony, hence avoided it skilfully, his gentle touch grounding.

“Hmfg. Let’s go. You have a lot explaining to do, Murdock. But thanks.”

Right. Murdock. He had a nice alliteration in his name, you remembered now. Matt Murdock. His friend called himself Foggy Nelson.

“Yeah…” you whispered, fluttering your eyes open and letting the two men lead you towards where the horror had started. “Thank you, Mr. Murdock.”

“You’re welcome, miss.”

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The previously fancy room was a complete mess; furniture in splinters, clothing torn to shreds, glass in shards, mechanics whirling and cracking with electricity, sometimes with sparks flying around. All of that rained with drops of blood.

Your stomach turned over, but you were able to swallow your nausea and fight the vertigo as your name was shouted from across the room, rapid strides of a huge man crossing the distance in seconds.

“Don’t touch-“ Murdock tried to warn Steve, but that man had already made up his mind, pulling you against his chest, arms winded tightly around your body.

You swallowed the cry of sharp pain in order to let him hug you and you breathed in deeply; freshly washed suit, his cologne, sweat, blood and him.

Your arm throbbed in agony, ribs crying out, but your heart was finding its peace despite still racing.

Now you were truly safe.

And Steve was alive and well. All would be good.

“Oh thank God, you’re okay,” he whispered to your mess of hair, his chest heaving. You could feel his heart hammering against your cheek, a prove of the fright you had given him.

“Punk, stop it, you’re going to smother her,” Bucky noted, sighing. “Plus, she was thrown around and did not land exactly gracefully.”

Steve released you in an instant, his face a mask of horror. Funny how Steve was much more expressive than Cap. You always loved it.

His attentive gaze was scanning you from head to toe, finally taking in your tense posture and stiff shoulders.

“What the hell are you talking about? Doll? What happened?!”

You opened your mouth uselessly, struggling to find words to break it to him gently and without freaking him out too much.

Unfortunately, Matt Murdock beat you to speaking. “A robot grabbed her-“

Steve’s eyes widened, assessing your state again, his choked inhale loud enough to hear. You shot Murdock a glare.

“Traitor,” you hissed at your saviour and then turned back to Steve, your uninjured hand laid on his shoulder. “Mr. Lawyer here took care of it. But yeah, I’ll have a trip to hospital or medical voluntarily. It kinda hurts-“

Steve’s eyes narrowed and you corrected yourself when he wordlessly called out on your bullshit.

“-okay, kinda a lot, but it’s not as bad, considering…“

Steve closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, only to slowly release it and giving the lawyer a look radiating immense gratitude despite him probably not being able to see it. Which, what the hell, by the way.

“Thank you.”

Matt Murdock only smiled humbly and nodded, at which Steve returned his attention to you. Taking him in, you only thought of four words.

Exhausted.

Serious.

Relieved.

Injured.

He didn’t sustain any life-threatening injuries as far as you could tell, but you did smell and see blood on him and since his opponents had been fucking robots, it was definitely his own blood. There was an angrily-looking gash on his forehead which was not bleeding anymore, few more scratches peeking through his sliced clothes.

Still. He was not unharmed.

“You’re hurt too,” you whispered. Your company clearly decided that it was the right moment to leave you some privacy and went to discuss other things. A game plan, perhaps. What happened in the first place. Oh, and who the hell Matt Murdock was anyway. You only had eyes for Steve now though. “How do you feel?”

His shoulders slumped, careful hand tenderly brushing your cheek, his eyebrow furrowing in concern and indignation.

“Like I can’t decide whether smothering you for not running like your life depended on it – which it did – is an option,” he said honestly, eyeing your injured shoulder.

“That’s fair,” you hummed, not surprised. If he could be sassy though, so could you. “But consider this: I have a great role-model for heroics in my soulmate, so there’s no wonder I tried to help, as pathetically as I did at least.”

His lips parted at the implication of your behaviour being even remotely his fault, but you could tell he was too relieved to be actually mad at you.

“Smothering it is.”

You chuckled, trying not to wince at the tiny motion of your body that sent a fresh wave of pain through you.

“…can I have my arm checked first though? Also, I think you have bigger problems than me coordinating the rescue…”

Steve unwillingly casted a glance to the group of his friends, who all glared at Tony Stark, before looking back at you.

“My biggest problem right now is to get you some medical attention. Then, yes, it does look like I have things to deal with. But remember, doll. You are not off the hook.”

You smiled at him sweetly and kissed his cheek.

“A troublemaker like me? Wouldn’t dream of it…”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Part 4

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Well. This spiralled quickly, didn’t it? :D Also, I couldn’t resist little Matty in here since I introduced him to Bucky in the previous part of the series ;)

Thank you for reading and for your patience... I know I posted a lot of different stuff before getting to this chapter...

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers soulmate #soulmate au #avengers #captain america #steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #winsod #anika ann

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beardofkamenev · 4 years ago

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When Adults Attack! (Teenagers)

(Sorry to everyone for dragging this up again, but some people are chronically incapable of letting drama die down.)

The last time I posted about this was 18 February. It’s now late-March. Despite repeatedly claiming to be “over it”, a self-proclaimed “respected history blogger” has been screaming into the void for over a month now. She seems to be under the unfortunate impression that she’s completely innocent of wrongdoing, all the criticism is unprovoked, she has been targeted by “white bigots”, and that she’s somehow the real victim here. So now I have to explain why that’s bullshit. Unlike her and her two friends, I don’t make extreme but vague accusations with zero evidence. I don’t make empty threats about “exposing” people.

The short story? She involved her own self in a situation that had nothing to do with her, downplayed her friends’ racism towards others, incited her followers to harass a teenager, repeatedly lied to her followers about the multiple POC who criticised her friends being “white”, and has continued to inflame the issue while trying to downplay her role in doing so. The long story? Well, I’ll let the receipts do the talking.

That’s Olivia’s first post at the start of February, days before I or anyone else had even said anything. “My anonymous Jewish friend said!” should have been a red flag to anyone capable of reading anything longer than 280 characters. I’ve already explained why Haley (lucreciadeleon/turtlemoons plus her 92849374 alt accounts) is full of shit and so have plenty of others (here, here, and here, to name a few).

Olivia claims that, as a Romani woman, she’s not obliged to engage with content that offends her. Fine. So why is a black teenager obliged to engage with Haley’s deranged anons? Why are her hate anons are so worthy of a response that not responding is an act of ANTISEMITISM that warrants Olivia telling everyone what an antisemite this teenager is for not responding? FYI, NO ONE is obligated to respond to anon hate, especially from people they’ve already blocked. And considering Haley admitted not once, not twice, but three times to breaking Tumblr’s TOS to circumvent a mutual block and send those anons (including how she did it), people are especially not obligated to engage with her.

I made my first posts exposing Taylor (lucreziaborgia/elizabethblount) and Haley’s lies and backtracking on 6 and 7 February. This was before I acknowledged Olivia’s role in inflaming the situation. In fact, I didn’t even know about her tweets until 8 February. Yet, here she is on 6 FEBRUARY already bitching about my posts to her Twitter followers. She has some nerve acting like I victimised her, just because I posted the screenshots of her bitching about me. And bragging about ‘gaslighting’? The word that multiple people have separately described what her two friends subjected them to? Classy.

I can’t “stalk” her public Twitter any more than she can “stalk” my public blog. What an exceptionally stupid claim to make, considering her tweets kept getting recommended to my mutuals whether they liked it or not. Have some integrity and own the shit you say, rather than backtracking, deleting your posts, and pretending that you didn’t say the things we saw you say. If you want to talk shit about others in public, be ready to answer for it in public.

I also wonder how this started over Henry VII. I specifically wonder how this discussion between myself and May (richmond-rex) triggered Taylor’s totally unprovoked racist comments about how we and Nathen Amin “simp for a dead white man”, and we should “simp for someone who actually advocated for the rights of others” instead. The implication being that Tudor history is only for white people like Taylor, and that only her fave is worthy of discussion (“AnNe BoLeYn WaS oThErEd BeCaUsE sHe WaS tAn.” Good grief).

When multiple POC called bootleg Regina George out for it, not only did she say she couldn’t possibly be racist because Haley approved of her racism, but also tried to argue that Nathen Amin deserved it because it was inappropriate for a British man to joke about Brexit. She then claimed we called her “anti-Welsh” (another fucking lie) to make it seem like a bunch of cRaZy blacks and browns were attacking poor, innocent white her (with Olivia coming to the rescue, of course). And as if that wasn’t enough, Haley then sent these bad faith hate anons calling Nathen Amin’s tweet ANTISEMITIC, for no other reason than to retroactively justify Taylor’s racist comments (though I didn’t see Haley getting offended when she was hate-scrolling through his blog before Taylor was called out).

That was the “antisemitic shit” Haley “privately messaged about” that Olivia thinks deserves a response. In case it's not clear: defending racism makes you complicit in racism. Being Jewish is NOT a get-out-of-racism-free card, and Haley trying to use it as one is absolutely dishonest, especially when NO ONE even knew she was Jewish until she finally admitted in February she was the anonymous ‘Jewish friend’ who sent those batshit anons. Other Jewish people also called Haley out on it, yet Haley and Olivia have conveniently ignored that little fact since it contradicts their narrative.

You think it’s over? Nope. Taylor then slunk into May’s dm’s with a half-arsed apology, where she admitted that the only reason she made those racist comments about Nathen Amin was because we “attacked Gareth Russell first” (“BeCaUsE AnNe FaNs CiTe HiS wOrk”) and she “just wanted to educate us about not lionising Henry VII” (even though anyone with eyeballs can read our discussion see she’s full of shit). At the same time, she and Haley were messaging other history bloggers, telling them that everyone who called them out were antisemites (including an openly Jewish mutual of ours) in an attempt to alienate them from the community. And this was just in JANUARY.

“I can’t be racist! My Jewish friend agrees with my racism!” That steaming load of backtracking horseshit is unfortunately the kind of nonsense Olivia has chosen to defend. FOR WEEKS Taylor ignored May’s messages, explaining why she — a black woman — found Taylor’s comments offensive. Did Taylor listen? Nope. In fact, she only replied in February: after she already started posting about how ignoring Haley’s hate anons was “antisemitism”. How convenient. Taylor might be a fucking idiot but we’re not. She only replied to May because she was afraid we’d use her own words against her. Clearly she never learnt a damn thing because here she is on 6 February backtracking on her apology. “Actually, I did NOTHING wrong! Also, you’re all antisemites for saying I did because my Jewish friend agrees with me!” And what made Taylor feel as though she had permission to start deflecting her vile behaviour onto others in order to get the heat off her? Olivia’s post about ‘their Jewish friend’ Haley: the one that followed Olivia’s “private discussion” with “her two friends”. Taylor is a racist hypocrite who hides behind the few minority friends she has to justify her racism, and attacks every other minority who disagrees with her. It’s no coincidence that the majority of the history bloggers who have a problem with Taylor and Haley’s nasty behaviour happen to be POC.

Despite Olivia admitting that she knew nothing about that situation other than what those two told her, she still took it upon herself to misconstrue and downplay to all her followers the extent of her friends’ racism, lies, and general nastiness (here she is on 9 MARCH). For her, our problems with racism are little more than “stupid drama”, “Henry VII drama”, “Gareth Russell drama”, “overreacting to a joke”, and “petty disagreements over dead people” because her friends are the perpetrators. Yet she demands everyone sympathise with her never-ending dramas and projects her behaviour onto others, despite the fact that she’s shown absolutely no understanding for why so many people have problems with her friends and has consistently defended the perpetrators. She’s entitled to be upset at whatever she wants to be upset at, but she is not entitled to tell her followers that we can’t be upset about racism directed at us, especially when that situation NEVER EVEN INVOLVED HER.

I agree. It’s disturbing that three grown women in their mid to late 20s have a vendetta against an 18 year old. Olivia acknowledged that her posts were reckless and that she would have acted differently if she just sat down and thought for one fucking second. But rather than correct the record on the same platform she made those accusations, she doubled down and took off to Twitter, saying that her anger entitled her to act that way. All with zero acknowledgement of the fact that the teenager SHE falsely accused and repeatedly mocked for her age was still being harassed by HER followers as a direct result of HER posts.

She might love the ‘clout’ that comes with a large following, but she evidently doesn’t care about the responsibility that comes with it. In Taylor and Haley’s case, it’s little more than a means to intimidate others into silence. Olivia might be a “respected history blogger” or a “good historian”, but that definitely doesn’t make her a good person. Far from it, if her behaviour is anything to go by.

This was on 9 February, 3 days after my first post. Bitching about me was all fun and games until the receipts came out, huh?

There’s nothing “insane” about keeping receipts, especially when Taylor and Haley are notorious for lying out of their arses and fake-apologising to people in the dm’s, only to continue mocking them on Twitter afterwards. You know what is insane though? Searching ‘romani’ on our blogs in a pathetic attempt to dig up dirt that doesn’t even exist (yeah, stat trackers exist). Do you know what else is insane? Haley spamming people with passive aggressive anons and sending anon hate to people who’ve already blocked her. She also “stalked” our WOTR group chat, though she’ll never admit to it, despite accidentally posting the dated receipts proving it. Oops!

It’s no secret that Taylor and Haley are cowards (as all bullies are), so it was no surprise when they eventually involved Olivia in their month-old vendetta against a teenager. They wanted to school a black girl on racism and Congolese genocide apologism, so they needed to get a “respectable history blogger” on their side. And Olivia happily obliged, kicking up such a fuss on their behalf that the teenager just offered to end it (despite the fact that Olivia vagued her first). Yet still Olivia continued, publicly mocking her age and calling her an “antisemite” long after the discussion was over (here she is on 24 February still carrying on). Either a teenager is old enough to be publicly shamed for being an “antisemite” and “antiromani bigot”, or she’s too young to be taken seriously. But at 25, Olivia is certainly old enough to know better than to participate in this kind of vile, petty, wannabe Mean Girl behaviour.

Olivia is not black. Taylor is not black. Haley is not black. So for the record, if you are not black, it is not your place to tell BLACK PEOPLE whether they can take issue with apologism for BLACK GENOCIDE. Multiple black history bloggers have already explained why they had a problem with Gareth Russell’s comments about the Congolese genocide (including the teen in question), yet that was less important to Olivia than not being able to call him a sexist weirdo because he’s gay. Olivia cannot speak on all minority issues — especially black and brown issues — and it is arrogant of her to assume that she can, especially since her understanding of the Gareth Russell issue came purely from “what she discussed with her two friends” by her own admission.

What a take. Here’s the “anti-Romani” post that I supposedly made. Precisely ZERO of my posts were about Olivia and not once did I even name her directly. So her claims that I mounted some kind of “vicious attack” against her is, uh, bullshit.��Criticising her and her friends for their nasty, dishonest, and irresponsible behaviour isn’t “anti-Romani” just because she’s Romani. It’s no more “anti-Romani” than her erratic attempts to “expose” me are anti-Asian just because I’m Asian. It’s not any more “anti-Romani” just because the UK government has passed anti-Romani laws, any more than her telling deranged lies about me for over a month is an anti-Asian hate crime simply because there’s been an increase in anti-Asian hate crimes. I’m not British. I’m not from the UK. I have no control over whatever dumb, racist crap her government does. So she can fuck off and continue fucking off if she wants to make me personally responsible for that. The backlash she received had nothing to do with her identity and everything to do with how she purposely incited harassment against a teenager, defended her friends’ racism, and spread demonstrable lies to her followers. The “viciousness” of the backlash she received is directly proportionate to the viciousness of her own baseless attacks against others. She can claim to be more mature than an 18 year old all she wants, but do you know what the actual mature thing to do would have been? To not promote her friends’ lies and nonsense, especially when the other people they tried to involve had the sense to stay out of it.

Olivia, Taylor and Haley are fully-grown adults, but take no responsibility for their actions. Yet, they expect teenagers to have total control over not only their own emotions, but also the emotions and actions of others. Olivia thinks that a teen should be personally responsible for the behaviour of fully-grown adults, yet she’s close friends with Taylor — a racist, xenophobic bully who screenshots Tumblr people’s posts to mock them on Twitter (here and here from December), called Poles who’ve lost relatives in the Holocaust “genocidal loving freaks”, accused an openly Ashkenazi Jewish blogger of “internalised antisemitism” just for criticising her (a white gentile), said that people who like Mary I “resent their own siblings”, co-opted our struggles under Spanish imperialism just so she could bully ‘Spaniards’ (despite her being American and therefore equally responsible for genocide, by her flawed logic), and said that the black teen who called out her racism “really deserved to be bullied” and “needed to be policed”. Olivia is also close friends with Haley, who has a history of attacking people over posts that have nothing to do with her, publicly admitted to circumventing blocks in order to send hate anons, and likened me — a Filipino immigrant — to DONALD TRUMP and a neo-Nazi conspiracy theorist just because I posted the receipts exposing her lies, harassment of others, and projection.

Most of the people who have spoken out against these three didn’t even know each other until last month. Some of ‘us’ have actually blocked each other. Yet all of us agree that their behaviour towards others has been absolutely unacceptable. How is it that so many unrelated people from different corners of the ‘fandom’ have exactly the same problems with exactly the same people? If Olivia want us to take personal responsibility for “our friends’” behaviour, then she should first take responsibility for hers.

This is on 26 February, over a week after I last posted. As anyone with eyeballs can see, I called her British once. Not “repeatedly”. ONCE. So she can fuck off again with that bullshit. And why did I point that out? Because Olivia, a British citizen, made pejorative comments about “white Eastern Europeans!!!” just because she thinks some Polish people committed the heinous crime of... screenshotting her tweets. They didn’t even do it, and even if they did, how is that even relevant? Everyone knows that one specific Polish person lives rent free in Taylor’s head, so clearly Olivia just took Taylor’s word for it that it must have been The Poles who were “stalking” her. Maybe don’t take paranoid liars at face value next time?

Shameless, ignorant, tone deaf nonsense. Olivia constantly demands that people treat her and her identity with the utmost respect, yet here she was on 9 February already disrespecting the identities of others just so she can score some petty ‘oppression points’ against them. Why even bring their nationalities up? And why call them “white Eastern Europeans” instead of Polish since she knows they’re Polish? Is it because acknowledging that they are Polish would mean acknowledging that she doesn’t actually have a monopoly on a claim to discrimination or Holocaust trauma? Could it be that dismissing them as just some “white Eastern Europeans” was just another way for her to add credence to her own “pathetic lies” about the situation? There’s a word for that behaviour, and it starts with pro- and ends with -jection.

Let me reiterate: it is IGNORANT of her to use their identity against them, especially when hate-crimes against Polish immigrants have increased in her home country, and especially when the specific people she insulted lost close relatives (including Jewish relatives) in the Holocaust. It’s not “repeatedly mocking her identity” to point out her hypocrisy. Her being Romani is not an excuse for casual xenophobia. She might be able to hide her identity in the UK (though she shouldn’t have to), but Polish immigrants do not have the privilege of passing as first-language white British. I cannot pass as non-Asian. The black girl she and her friends tried to bully off Tumblr cannot pass as non-black. Olivia weaponising people’s identity against them just because she thinks they saw her public tweets is ignorant, petty, and completely uncalled for. She should be absolutely ashamed for using that pathetic argument, but based on her most recent farrago of nonsense, she probably won’t be.

Here’s her on 7 MARCH. And of course Taylor was the first to like it lol. Olivia may have deluded herself into believing she was just an innocent bystander, but unfortunately, enough people saw her admitting to inserting herself into the situation at the behest of her two friends. With every post before and since, her accusations have gotten wilder and wilder, falser and falser, and more and more irrelevant because she knows full well that none of her followers will bother fact-checking her. That’s the beauty of vagueing people. It’s how Taylor and Haley have been able to get away with pulling the wool over peoples’ eyes for so long. Too bad repetition, projection, and self-righteous outrage doesn’t equate to the truth because those are all those three have.

“SOMEONE NEEDS TO EXPOSE THE WHOLE DAMN LOT OF THEM! BUT IT WON’T BE ME!”

No one has said anything since 18 February, yet here’s Olivia publicly inciting her followers again. She’s “done talking about it”, yet she’s the only one continuing the drama. She is being ‘persecuted’, yet she mobilises her followers to go after others. She needs to be defended against critics, yet she also can’t resist bragging about big her Tumblr following is, how “piddly” our notes are compared to hers, how she got over 30 followers to report my posts (they’re still up lol), and how many people she can get to dig through our blogs to find anything to “expose” us. Olivia, I’m sorry that you require constant validation from strangers on the internet, but not everyone has the same priorities as you. Some of us just come here to have fun, but having shitstarters in the community is decidedly un-fun.

All my posts were directed at Taylor and Haley, but since Olivia insists on making this revolve around her, let me clarify: she is a hypocrite and a professional victim. Words have meaning, and those words are the most accurate words to describe her behaviour. It has fuck all to do with her identity. She and Haley are professional victims because they act as if their minority statuses exempt them from basic rules of online courtesy and entitle them to run their mouths about others with no consequence. And Olivia is a hypocrite because she demands the respect and understanding that she has repeatedly refused to show to others. She made ignorant, xenophobic comments against Polish people because she falsely assumed they screenshot her public posts bitching about others. She pretends that the many POC who have spoken out against her are just some “white” hive-mind because admitting that we’re not white will discredit the victimhood narrative she’s been peddling to her followers. And she arrogantly presumes to be ‘our’ voice in the community, all while mobilising her following to intimidate and silence the minorities who take issue with her and her friends’ vile behaviour.

It’s extremely telling that in every one of her unlettered rants, Olivia made the conscious choice to conflate us with “white gentiles”, “white antisemites”, and “white Eastern Europeans”. Why? Because in order to “name and shame” us, she’d have to admit to her followers that the majority of the people criticising her aren’t actually “white”, but are in fact black, brown, and Jewish. Having repeatedly demanded that her followers defend her, her reputation and credibility now depends upon people continuing to see her as the oppressed victim of “bigoted whites”. Unfortunately for her and her friends, the truth will always come out. That’s what receipts are for, no matter what they claim.

The history community didn’t side with “a white gentile woman”. We sided with a black teenager who Olivia and her friends repeatedly mocked for her age, publicly and privately spread false accusations against, and incited their followers to harass with their never-ending posts. We sided against white racists like Taylor, and her white-passing enablers like Olivia and Haley. Since being called out for racism by a black girl discredited them, they had to discredit her. And unlike the others Taylor and Haley tried to involve, Olivia was their willing accomplice. If she has now been “alienated by half the history fandom”, it is because of her own behaviour and rightly so.

The ideal course of action would be for Olivia to finally take some responsibility for her actions, publicly apologise for her role in inflaming this drama, and move on like the rest of us have tried to do. But unfortunately, she may be too far gone in her own pathological need for online validation to ever admit wrongdoing without some serious introspection. So perhaps, Olivia, if anything else, you should just take your own advice and, once and for all, SHUT THE FUCK UP.

#here's my fucking rent #seeing as i've lived in your head for a whole month #dumb and dumber #disk horse for ts #long post

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oreoambitions · 4 years ago

Note

Another anon- Now we need to hear about the cabbage incident. ;)

Okay Anon, get comfortable and I will tell you The Whole Story of the time I threw a cabbage at a beautiful woman.

I used to have a coworker who thought that basically every woman he ever saw was the most beautiful woman on Earth. He was never creepy or disrespectful about it, but oftentimes while we were working he would quietly point someone out and tell me how beautiful he thought she was. I would smile and agree with him, because objectively women are beautiful and because it was brightening his day. But eventually he figured out that I wasn’t actually attracted to any of these women he was pointing out to me, and it became a game for him to try to figure out my “type.” Anon, he was very bad at this game. So when he kicked me one day to get my attention and whispered, “Turn around and tell me that is not the most gorgeous woman you have ever seen,” I was not expecting much. I turned around. And he was right. She was... I mean That Firefighter is drop dead handsome in an “I will clock out right now and go anywhere you want” kind of way. This woman is beautiful in a soft way. In that way that makes you want to sit shoulder to shoulder and knee to knee with someone, wrapped up in the same blanket on the couch, just talking about anything and everything over chamomile and cookies until she falls asleep with her head against your chest and her arm tucked around your waist. You know what I mean? She is the kind of beautiful that inspires an immediate soft affection. And boy was I ever inspired. To my coworker’s absolute shock, I decided to go talk to her. What’s the harm, right? We saw hundreds of people pass through every day, and I figured the odds of ever seeing her again were pretty low. I actually came all the way out of the kitchen to speak to this woman, and then to my surprise she asked me what my name was, introduced herself, struck up a conversation, lingered for a while to chat. She was charming, bright eyed, constantly smiling. And her accent, oh my GOSH Anon. I could have listened to her talk all afternoon. It was that cliche her-voice-is-music moment from every fanfiction you’ve ever read. I said goodbye to her and I went back to my work with a smile on my face, day significantly improved, feeling simultaneously warm inside and confident in the knowledge that I was never going to see her again. Wow I could not have been more wrong about that.

She showed up again the next day. And then the next. I was laughing at myself for accidentally flirting with someone who’d turned out to be a regular when, on the fourth day, she showed up before we were open. I hurried out to explain to her that we weren’t open yet but that if she told me what she’d like I’d make sure to have it ready for her as soon as we were. (Listen. I really liked her.) But she was intercepted by my manager, and this is how I found out that she WORKS FOR OUR COMPANY. In fact, she works in the corporate office. She outranked literally everyone in the building. Obviously I could not continue to flirt with this woman, so I started avoiding her. She remained perfectly capable of ordering online and having her lunch delivered to the office like literally everyone else who works there, and yet, much to my distress, she continued to show up at the same time every day to stand in a line that usually went all the way out the door so that she could place her order in person.

It didn’t take my team long to figure out that there was a connection between her daily appearances and my newfound talent for suddenly finding somewhere else to be. On more than one occasion I abruptly decided to take inventory. Once I even stopped in the middle of an urgent prep task to go organize the fridge, and my team howled with laughter when they realized what had happened. Several times they tried to feign an emergency to get me to come out and interact with her. They are good beans, but also they think it’s funny that their usually stoic Captain gets all soft and blushy around this person and they like to take advantage of that fact. The upside to all of this was that I always knew when she was in the store before I actually saw her, which made her easy to avoid. (The downside was that I’m pretty sure she knew what was up, because they were NOT subtle.) This went on for a couple of months unabated until one day she appeared outside of her usual time. It was still early, well ahead of the lunch rush, and so I’d sent most of my team on their breaks and was standing alone in the kitchen coring heads of cabbage when I got that eerie feeling that someone was watching me. I looked up, and there she was, hands buried in her pockets, head cocked a little to one side. I froze. She smiled at me.

Disaster Gay Mode activated, and SOMETHING possessed me to put all of my weight down on my left hand. The hand which was holding in place the head of cabbage I was about to halve. Cabbages, just fyi, are round. And unfortunately for me, physics are A Thing. So when the heel of my palm came down, I inadvertently punted that cabbage directly at Corporate Charmer at such a velocity that it tagged the edge of the counter where she was standing (and bounced harmlessly back into the prep area, thank heck). I nearly fell over in the process.

I was unfortunately not flustered and floundering enough to miss her somewhat bemused expression, or that she asked me if I was okay just before my manager swooped in to find out what it was she actually needed. When she was gone, my manager gingerly returned the cabbage to my work station with the admonishment that in the future I should really try not to throw produce at guests, no matter how pretty the guest in question may be.

Later I found out that she used to be a professional chef. This somehow honestly makes the whole thing even more embarrassing.

#gay disaster #I am getting married Never #Anonymous

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dripkingpetey · 4 years ago

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bestfriends forever-b.boeser

oh god here i am once again with a brock fic😐 i’ll be trying to do the requests that i’ve been getting over the weekend but please don’t get mad at me if i don’t end up getting to them. oh also! the flashbacks are in italics just an fyi!

brock boeser x oc!

2436 words

“Come play hockey with me Kyia!” Brock exclaimed at his bestfriend from his bedroom window over to hers, they were next door neighbours, with the windows in their respective bedrooms facing each other.

Kyia still remembers it like yesterday, Brock always asking her to play or hangout with him. Except right now, Kyia was in her car crying, she had just dropped off her bestfriend at the airport and he was heading to Vancouver. Obviously she was happy about Brock going to the NHL with the Vancouver Canucks, she didn’t want to leave him though. Brock and Kyia have been bestfriends even before they were born, with their mothers being bestfriends. They have never had to be separated before, even when Brock went to college for hockey, she ended up getting accepted into the same university.

It took awhile for Kyia to stop crying but when she did, she started driving home, thinking about all of the memories with Brock even though it was likely that she would see him in a couple of weeks. She started playing her and Brocks playlist, they had started it when Brock got his first iPod after a hockey tournament when they were 9.

“Kyia! Come over I have something to show you.” Brock waved his arms furiously to get Kyia to hurry up. “Okay, okay I’ll be over in a sec.” Kyia giggled at how excited Brock was, slipping on her shoes before making her way over to Brocks house.

“Look it’s got all of these cool songs that we can make playlists with too.” Brock exclaimed enthusiastically as he hooked the iPod up to their family computer, making a playlist title ‘Kyia and Brocks swag times’ which was quickly denied by Kyia and changed to ‘Brock and Ky’s playlist’. “You’re boring you know that right?” Brock mumbled. “Yeah but you couldn’t live without me.” Kyia grinned at Brock as they searched up all of their favourite songs to add.

Though that playlist has had many different versions for each year, they always put every song into the original playlist, making the total amount of songs over 1000.

Brock had sent a snap to Kyia almost as soon as she got home, it was almost like he knew. Kyia opened it and it was a photo of Brock smiling with a heart emoji in the text bar. It wasn't unusual for Brock and Kyia to be saying I love you and stuff to each other, they’ve always said it and it would be weird for them to stop. Kyia didn’t want Brock to see that she was crying even though he knew, she responded to him with a text that said. “I miss you so much already, how was the flight?” Knowing that Brock had already taken off and wouldn’t see the text till he landed in Vancouver.

“Did you have a fun day?” Kyia asked over FaceTime to Brock, he was in his hotel room in Vancouver, getting ready for the start of training camp. “Yeah, traveling was exhausting but I got to meet some of the guys on the team today and they’re all really nice.” Brock smiled at you, the same beaming smile that could always cheer you up whenever you felt down. “That’s good.” Kyia said, not knowing if she should really tell Brock how she was feeling. “You should go to bed, it’s getting pretty late in Minnesota.” Brock said while running his fingers through his hair, referring to the 2 hour time difference between Vancouver and Minnesota. “I guess you’re right.” She mumbled, wanting to be with her bestfriend right now. “Ky, I miss you too. We can see each other soon, if I make the roster after training camp. You can fly to Vancouver with my parents for my first game.” Brock tried to make you feel better even though he missed you even more. “I guess, goodnight I love you.” Kyia said even though she didn’t want to end the call which resulted in Brock having to hang up after he said goodnight as well.

It was hard on both Brock and Kyia, not being able to see each other almost everyday. Brock was focused on training for the upcoming season and Kyia had been busy with all of the school work she had, which all resulted in Brock and Kyia barely talking for two weeks, not to mention that the time difference made it even harder.

“I made it! I made the roster!” Brock exclaimed over the phone to Kyia which reminded her of when he made the roster for UND’s hockey team.

Brock rushed right to Kyia’s dorm room, knocking quickly as she got up to answer it and she was met by a big grin on Brocks face which quickly turned into him pulling Kyia into a tight hug. “I made the team.” Brock exclaimed, she was the first person he told after he found out. “You did it!!” Kyia was proud of him, she knew how hard he had been working for a spot there and he did it.

“You did it!” The same words came out of Kyia’s mouth as she teared up in happiness for him. “Holy fuck, you did it Brock.” There was a giant grin on Kyia’s face and she was sure Brock did too. “Yeah, I can’t believe it too.” Brock sighed along with a light chuckle. “Okay I gotta go tell my parents, do you want to FaceTime later?”

“Wait, I’m the first person you told?” Kyia had expected that Brock would tell his parents first and her after. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I tell my bestfriend first?” Brock smiled even though she couldn’t see. “Awh, I love you, go tell your parents.” Even though Kyia knew it, it was still nice to hear that Brock was her bestfriend. “I love you too, you might want to start booking the plane tickets.” Brock joked but that’s exactly what she did, Kyia rushed to her computer to look at flights after he hung up.

It was all-star break and Brock hadn’t been home in Minnesota for weeks, so he took advantage of that. Despite going back to Minnesota for Christmas, he was already missing it there, especially Kyia. “What are you up to?” Brock asked over FaceTime to her while sitting in his old truck he had in Minnesota. “Not much, just planning to sit around in bed all day.” Kyia mumbled. Brock being all the way in Vancouver was much harder than she thought it was going to be, it sucked to not see him and it was taking a toll on her mental health. “Fuck I gotta go, me and Petey are going out for lunch. Talk to you later?” Brock lied, knowing his plan was all coming together. “You know where I’ll be.” Kyia sighed while taking a sip of water. “Love you, I’ll talk to you later.” They both said at the same time.

Brock almost started giggling because that’s how excited he was to see Kyia. Her parents already knew so hey let him slide into their house, moving quietly before opening Kyia’s door to surprise her. “I’m home!” He exclaimed but quickly furrowed his eyebrows together when he saw Kyia crying, she didn’t even realize Brock was in her room till he started speaking. “Are you okay?” Brock said quietly, hugging Kyia while she was laying on her bed. “No, but I’m better now that you’re here.” She mumbled with a slight smile at Brock, she was crying about him, about how much she missed him and wish he never went to Vancouver. “I missed you.” Kyia laughed while turning around so she could give her bestfriend a proper hug. “I missed you even more Ky.” Brock chuckled as he tucked the loose strands of Kyia’s hair behind her ear.

Brock would be lying if he said that he didn’t want to kiss Kyia right in that moment, with their faces inches away, looking at Kyia’s beautiful smile, their faces getting closer and closer like two magnets. But he knew he couldn’t do it, he would chicken out.

For the next three days, Kyia seemed like she had been brought back to life. The sad, Brock missing Kyia was gone, it was like Kyia was herself again.

“She’s so much happier when she’s with you, you know? It’s been tough for her for the past couple of months.” Brocks mom, Laurie said quietly to him as they watch Kyia play with his dogs. Brock didn’t know what to do, all he could do was sigh, sigh and worry about how Kyia was going to be when he goes back to Vancouver and Kyia would be here by herself again. “Brock?” Laurie asked, trying to get his attention off of Kyia. “Yeah mom?” Brock quickly snapped out of it. “You know that she’s in love with you right? And I think you feel the same way.”

“But-” Brock tried to say something but quickly got cut off by his mother. “But we’ve been bestfriends forever.” Laurie mocked Brocks voice as he slumped down into his chair. “I know the two of you have never confessed it, you probably don’t even know that you’re in love with her. But I can see it.” Laurie said as she looked at Brock who was lost in his thoughts, staring at Kyia as he took Lauries words in. “Maybe I am.” He mumbled quietly and Laurie laughed. “I’ll leave it up to you two.” Laurie sighed, getting up and patting Brocks knee as she headed into the kitchen.

It was the night before Brock had to fly back to Vancouver and Brock and Kyia had to spend every last moment together, before he had to go back for god knows how long. “I’m gonna miss you.” Kyia mumbled and pouted, she was laying on her bed on top of Brocks chest, tracing little circles on his chest with her fingers while he played with her hair. “Me too Ky, me too.” Brock sighed, closing his eyes so he doesn’t start tearing up.

“What if you went to Vancouver with me?” Brock asked while him and Kyia were both half asleep. “Just for like a week or two.” Brock quickly added, hoping she would say yes.

“I could.” Kyia mumbled, looking up at Brock who was smiling at her. “All of my classes are online this semester anyways.” Kyia said as she watched Brocks face light up even more. “This is gonna be so fun.” Brock chuckled and kissed the top of her head.

It was a couple of days after Kyia and Brock got to Vancouver, Brock tried to show her around to get Kyia used to the surroundings. “Hey, do you mind if a couple of the guys come over for drinks later? They said that they wanted to meet you today while we were at practice.” Brock asked while looking over to see what she was doing, chuckling when he saw that she was playing with Milo and Coolie once again. “Yeah, I just gotta get ready though.” Kyia looked over to smile at Brock, she didn’t want to admit it but she was falling hard for him, those feelings have always been there but being in Vancouver with him for some reason just fuelled it.

“Ah yes, so this is the lovely Kyia we always hear about.” Jake smiled at you before introducing himself. “So you talk about me huh?” Kyia raised an eyebrow playfully and everyone watched Brocks face turn into a light shade of red. “He never stops talking about you.” A tall blonde swede who she later learned was Elias, sighed with a chuckle before getting a little punch from Brock.

“So, who wants some drinks?” Brock said quickly, trying to steer the conversation to a different topic. “You know what I want.” Kyia smiled as Brock went over to the kitchen to make her drink as well as grabbing a couple of beers for Elias and Jake.

Kyia learned a lot about what Brock was like on the ice and in Vancouver, not that he was any different than normally, it was just fun to hear the stories of him in Vancouver.

Elias and Jake had headed home, leaving a tipsy Brock and a drunk Kyia alone. “I love it here with you.” Kyia smiled as she heard those words come out of Brocks mouth. “Me too.” Kyia slurred while sitting closer to Brock, snuggling her head into his chest as he rubbed his thumb along her waist.

“I really missed seeing you everyday.” Kyia mumbled and pouted at Brock. Their faces were inches apart once again, and both Brock and Kyia were fighting the urge to just kiss each other. “Can I kiss you?” Brock asked quietly, cupping his spare hand onto Kyia’s bright red cheeks. “Yeah.” Kyia said with a smile before Brock pulled himself closer to her, kissing Kyia softly as she returned the favour. Neither of them said anything after they pulled away, they just sat there and cuddled till Brock had the guts to say something. “I love you.” Brock mumbled, expecting Kyia to be asleep. “I love you too, not as friends, more than that.” Kyia said softly as she looked up to see Brock smiling at her. “Me too.”

Brocks favourite thing to do in the off-season was going back to Minnesota and spending everyday on the lake and that’s what was happening right now.

“Hey.” Brock grinned while sitting down next to Kyia. “How many beers did you have?” Kyia sighed, quickly folding down the corner of the page she was reading and placed her book down so she could pay attention to Brock. “A couple.”

Brock leaned his face right up to Kyia’s and kissed her face over and over again before whispering some nonsense as she giggled and smelt the alcohol in his breath. “I love you too Brock.” Kyia quickly pecked his lips before he rested his head on her chest. “What if we got married?” Brock mumbled, not expecting Kyia to hear it even though he wanted her to. Kyia didn’t know what to say, she knew that Brock was the one but she didn’t know if he truly meant it or he was just drunk. “Actually?” Kyia questioned and Brock lifted his head up to look at her. “Yeah.” Brock grinned because that’s all he knew what to do. “One day,” Kyia smiled as Brock laid his head back down on his chest and she played with his blonde hair.

#brock boeser #brock boeser fic #Brock Boeser x oc #nhl canucks #vancouver canucks #canucks #fic #hockey #canucks hockey #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl #brock boeser imagine

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izlaria · 4 years ago

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Someone you like (part 4)

This is the fourth chapter of my “Someone you like” inspired fic. It’s also available on AO3 in case you prefer that platform. Please hit me up to talk about Plance!

Summary: In the days following their arrival on Earth, Pidge finds that conflicting feelings don't just disappear because there are more people around. On the contrary, with the approach of the final battle, they seem to get worse.

FYI, we’re still on Pidge pining hour.

18 and 16 years old

Life was not easy when you were a soldier fighting against an evil, intergalactic empire, but Pidge had found a sort of balance to it all. Now that they were back on Earth and she knew her family was relatively safe, much of the sorrow she’d carried had dissolved into hopefulness.

Much, but not all.

Pidge leaned her head against the wall, hugging the papers to her chest. Being on the Garrison made it easier for her to ignore her erratic heartbeats, because she could just avoid Lance most of the time, but it also sent her into overdrive when she accidentally met him in the hallways. She could usually depend on her mother to be there – Pidge was grounded, after all –, but there were times when not even Colleen could protect her.

She wanted to talk to Lance, of course. He was one of her best friends and no crush could ever change that, but it took a lot out of Pidge to hear him drone on about Allura and all the places he wanted to show her on Earth.

Maybe her evasiveness wasn’t the most mature of Pidge’s choices, but she was tired and lovesick and feeling neglected. She would have to be excused a little pettiness.

“Do you want to tell me why I just saw you ignore Lance?” Matt raised his brows at her, an expression that Pidge herself often mimicked and that was especially irritating to be the target of. He was standing off to the side of her station, gloves still on.

Pidge pushed away from the wall, feeling flustered. She hadn’t realized her brother had witnessed the scene.

“Did I ignore Lance?” Pidge opted to feign innocence. “I was so lost in thought I didn’t really see him there. Or you.” This last bit she said with a touch of hostility.

Matt crossed his arms and hummed, sounding disbelieving. “You always were the worst liar out of the two of us, Pidge.”

She shouldered past Matt with a glare. There was a lot of work to do until the Atlas was completed and the last thing she needed were distractions like her feelings for Lance or a fight with her brother.

“When did you land on Earth, anyway?” Pidge put the papers down on her table and moved to one of the computer screens, where she’d left a new code running. It was an improved version of her and Matt’s previous software for predicting Galra presence. “I could use your eyes on this.”

Matt stood at her back, looking over her shoulder at the lines that lit up the computer.

“This is interesting…” He squinted down at Pidge. “Don’t think for a second that a new challenge will make me forget what I just saw.”

She took advantage of Matt’s positioning to elbow him in the gut.

Truthfully, Pidge knew her brother wouldn’t tease her too much about her circumstances. Matt was caring and even protective when it came to her well-being, so he would never rat her out to Lance or any of the others, even if he disagreed with her actions.

Despite that, she struggled with being vulnerable around him.

Pidge didn’t want to think about it, but the years they’d spent apart had certainly affected their relationship. Before going to space, Matt was more than her brother, he had been her closest friend. But now she had Hunk, Lance, and even Keith and Allura. If she needed guidance, Coran and Shiro were only a call away.

She would always be close to Matt, but he was no longer the only person whose company she valued.

“We should finish this up before mom comes around,” Pidge said, trying to refocus. “She comes to collect me at the end of the day.” She rolled her eyes.

“That still going on?” Matt chuckled as he pulled a chair over to her station. He scanned the reports she had just brought in.

“I can’t even go out to eat with the team. We’ve had to meet in the cafeteria, of all places.”

“I’m just glad the cooking staff changed since I was a student.” Matt wrinkled his nose. “That was just nasty.”

“Except for the burgers.” And here Pidge smiled, suddenly reminded of all the times Hunk and Lance had dragged her to lunch and how they always ended up making a mess of their table.

“On Mondays, that’s right!” Matt glanced at her and Pidge couldn’t quite read the look in his eyes. “Until when are you grounded, anyway?”

“Let’s see, I was fifteen when I was whisked into space, so…” She pretended to do the calculations. “Until my twenty-first birthday, unless dad intervenes.”

Matt snorted. “Good luck with that. He doesn’t really have any weight with mom right now. She’s still upset about the whole being-pronounced-dead thing.”

Pidge groaned, burying her face into her hands. “I’ll be going to war in a month, but I still have no freedom here.” She raised her eyes to look at him. “Can’t you talk to mom?”

“And risk my newfound position as the favorite? You’re on your own, kiddo.” He continued to stare down at the papers for a moment, before turning to face her properly. “You know why she’s doing this, right? You spent three years MIA. We thought you were dead.” He exhaled forcefully. “I thought you were dead.”

Pidge didn’t really know how to respond. Since her arrival on Earth, she’d had versions of this conversation with several people, but her brother had always stood back and given her a little space. He probably knew better than most how overwhelming such a welcome could be. “I am sorry, Matt.”

He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Turnaround is fair play, I guess.”

“Stop.” Pidge put a hand on his arm. She worked her jaw, trying to figure out what to say. “I never wanted you to find out how that felt.”

Matt nodded once, swallowing hard. Pidge could tell that he was putting his emotions back in check.

“I’m proud of what you’ve done, Katie. Mom might act like you’re still a kid, but I was out there before you came along.” It reminded Pidge that, though he hadn’t been present for her battles, Matt had seen his own share of horrors. “Voltron turned the tide, in no small part because of you.”

“Thank you.” She tried to blink away the tears. Matt smiled and brought his hands up to cup her face.

“My little sister is a badass, so I don’t want to see you hiding behind corners because of some stupid boy.” When she tried to protest, he just squished her cheeks. “Who does not deserve you, by the way.”

Pidge couldn’t help but laugh. She could always count on Matt to make her smile through her tears.

“I thought you liked Lance,” she said once Matt had let go of her face. He grimaced.

“He’s eighteen and a flirt.” Her brother didn’t even try to go back to work, he merely kicked his legs up onto a workbench and crossed his arms. “I would feel better about Keith, even.”

“You say that because Shiro would be just as bad of a protective older brother as you.” She pushed at his chair, making Matt almost lose his balance.

“You would never be alone unchaperoned, it would be great,” he confirmed, still pulling himself back into position.

“You realize that I’m technically nineteen?” She aimed a sharp look at him.

“You realize you look twelve?” Matt shot back, looking unbearably satisfied with himself. This time Pidge had no mercy for him; she sent his chair rolling down the aisle and Matt with it.

“Honestly, you have nothing to worry about.” She wrapped an arm around her middle. “Lance is so enamored with Allura that I could yell in his ear that I like him and the goofball would think I meant it platonically.”

Matt wheeled himself back to her. “Then he’s a fool.”

“You’re just saying that,” Pidge scoffed. “You were just as bad as him when meeting Allura.”

“Look, Allura is beautiful, that’s true, but it doesn’t diminish your qualities.” He put a hand on her shoulder, leaning in close so that their voices didn’t echo in the empty laboratory. “You are funny and witty and smarter than anyone in this damn complex. Don’t you dare compare yourself to Allura.”

Pidge dragged her chair until she was resting against Matt’s shoulder.

“It’s sort of inevitable. She’s the one he likes and I have to accept it.” She looked at the computer, where lines of code kept appearing and disappearing. “It’s just hard to be near him. I feel like I’ll do something and everyone will… know.”

“You spent almost a year pretending to be someone else, I think your acting skills are a little better than that.”

“Didn’t you criticize my lying just a few minutes ago?” she deadpanned.

“Well…” Matt gave her a cheeky grin. “I’ve known you your entire life, so I’m a Katie Holt expert.”

“Of course,” she drawled out, rolling her eyes.

Pidge felt her brother put an arm over her shoulder, squeezing her to his side.

“You’re perfect, okay?” he murmured into her hair. “Don’t ever let anyone convince you otherwise.”

She closed her eyes and let herself fall into his embrace. It was something she had missed, even now that the team was back on Earth. Everything had changed since the Kerberos mission and, while a lot of it was good, Pidge couldn’t deny that she wished Matt would stay with them more often.

“Okay.” Her voice trembled, but Matt didn’t mention it, choosing to tighten his hold on her.

“Knock, knock! Anyone in here?” As soon as the voice sounded, Pidge scrambled to hide her face. She got up and pretended to check a different monitor, turning her back to the door. She heard Lance approach their station. “Oh, hey, guys!” Then, seeming to notice the mood of the room. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, man.” Matt was the first to recover. Pidge felt him move, probably trying to keep Lance from getting any closer. “We were just discussing some Holt secret coding.” She almost snickered at this, despite the heartbeat that still hammered in her ears. It was the sort of thing that only a non-techie would believe.

“And I thought us McClains were bad with our ropa vieja recipe.” She chanced a look over her shoulder to catch Lance’s smile. He was always at his brightest when talking about his family.

“You needed something, Lance?” Matt was being a bit more brusque than normal, but his expression was thankfully still amenable. Pidge would have hit him if he just started being a jerk to Lance.

“Not really,” the other boy responded. He looked around Matt to smile at Pidge. “I was just hoping to catch up with Pidge before your mother comes around.” He shuddered. “Let me tell you, that’s a scary lady. She could almost beat mami with that I’m-not-mad-just-disappointed face.”

“You tell me?” Matt sighed. “That’s one thing I don’t look forward to when touching down at the Garrison.”

“You wanted to talk to me?” Pidge interrupted before they could keep going. Putting two of the friendliest people she knew in the same room was only a good idea if she had the patience for a long conversation. Which she didn’t.

“Ah, are you done ignoring me, Pidgeon?” Lance cocked his hip to one side, looking too sure of himself for his own good.

“I’m working, Lance, something you should be doing as well.” She pretended to fix her glasses, if only to have something to do.

The boy waved a dismissive hand at her. “I’m done for the day and I know for a fact that you’re just working on pet projects until Colleen comes to get you.” When he tried to lean down towards her, Matt moved to stand between them. Lance hesitated, before letting the strange behavior go. “Matt can keep your mom busy if she shows up, right?”

It was difficult to say no to Lance. He was jovial and charming, in particular when he wasn’t actually trying to impress anyone.

“Can you, Matt?” Pidge found herself asking. Her brother frowned at her with uncertainty.

“If that’s what you want, Pidge,” he yielded, when she didn’t back down.

“Let’s go before you get me in trouble, McClain.” Pidge gave a long-suffering sigh and moved past the two boys, who were saying their goodbyes.

Lance caught up to her at the door, opening it with an exaggerated bow.

She walked briskly down the hallway, but Lance had the advantage of his height. For every two, quick steps Pidge took, he only had to take one long stride.

“In a rush to get away?” There was laughter in his voice.

“You’ve seen how mom gets,” she replied, peaking around corners as they moved. “If she doesn’t know where I am for more than five minutes, she seems to think I’ll jump into a ship and disappear for another four years.”

“As if I had it any better.” He gestured to a hallway Pidge knew led to the analytics department. “I’m just lucky Veronica is the only one in my family with clearance to come into the Garrison.”

Pidge snorted. “I should sic my mom on you and Hunk, to make things even.”

Though she’d spent so much of their time on Earth making up excuses not to see Lance, the conversation between them flowed naturally. He had an easy-going energy that calmed Pidge’s more tense nature. While they were in the castle-ship, he had been able to soothe the worst of her worries, until Pidge could actually have fun, despite the fears that troubled her mind.

She didn’t know what would have become of her in this war, if Lance hadn’t been there.

“On the subject of your family…” Lance sent her an anxious look. “Is everything really alright with your brother?”

Pidge could tell he was actually worried, which sent a wave of affection and pain through her chest. She struggled to keep her expression blank.

“We were just talking about the war.” She allowed apprehension to seep into her tone. “I know he has a role to perform out there, but I wish he could stay longer.”

Lance twisted his mouth to the side, an unhappy expression he often adopted when trying to look empathetic. “What has Matt said about it?”

“He misses home, but he can’t really ignore what’s going on with the rebel forces.” Pidge rubbed at her temple. “If we are actually able to end the war, then things might be different, but for now…” she trailed off.

Communications from all around the universe told them Voltron wasn’t the only force preparing for battle. There were a lot of moving parts to consider, especially with the still unknown variable of whose influence had been affecting the Altean colony.

“I know what you mean. After this is all over, I think I’ll take a long vacation to just enjoy good, old Earth.”

This surprised Pidge, startling her from her previous line of thought.

“What, is the Tailor going to retire?” She knocked Lance lightly on the arm, trying for a playful mood.

“No,” he objected. He bent at the waist to look her in the eye and winked. “You know I can’t deny the rest of the universe the beauty of my presence.”

Pidge pushed his face away. It was easy to pretend to be annoyed at Lance when he insisted on acting like this. He was most dangerous when he was genuine. “Be real, man.”

“I am!” He laughed as he stood upright. “It’s just… We’ve been off-planet for so long, I kinda want some time to spend with my family, maybe travel around. I’ve only ever been to Cuba and the US, can you believe it? I’ve seen more of space than of my own planet.”

“Yeah, me too.” Pidge frowned. She hadn’t thought about the situation in these terms before. “I’ve been to Italy and England, but that’s it.”

“We should come up with a plan, get the others in on it.” Lance shot her a smile.

They had walked all the way to the MFE taxiway and Pidge focused her attention on the aircraft that Ryan Kinkade maneuvered across from them. She didn’t want to think of Lance’s warmth so close to her, nor of the future he described.

It didn’t matter how long she avoided him, Lance always found a way back into her life and into her heart. This awareness was painful, when Pidge knew he would never look at her as more than a best friend or a younger sister.

She felt something hit her cheek and looked up at the sky. Dark clouds gathered over them and soon there was another drop.

“Oh, it’s raining,” Pidge commented offhandedly. By her side, Lance let out a laugh. He sounded so joyful that she couldn’t stop herself from staring.

Lance had opened his arms and raised his face to the rain. It reminded her of something he had said months ago, about the aspects of Earth he missed while in space. She was once again struck by how attracted she was to Lance: his cheerfulness, his stupid humor, the curve of his Adam’s apple and the way his uniform clung to him in the rain.

“I really missed this!” he exclaimed mid-laugh.

Pidge stood still, admiring his delight even as her hands closed to fists at her sides. “Yeah,” she breathed out, “me too.”

After they left the mall, there was still some time for Allura to kill before her date and it was decided that she, Romelle and Pidge would stop to grab something to eat. Rizavi and Ina had previous plans, but they encouraged the girls to have some fun together, leaving unsaid that it might be their last chance to do so.

“I cannot emphasize how thankful I am, Pidge.” Allura reached across the table to grab her hand. She and Romelle had insisted on going into a coffeeshop that had recently reopened; the design was minimalist but cozy, a step-up from anything else they’d seen outside downtown.

“And I’ve said it a hundred times already, princess, I don’t mind.” Pidge let her hand go slack in Allura’s, trying not to snap at her friend. While she appreciated the gratitude, the constant touching was starting to grate on her nerves.

“You do mind,” Allura contested, with the kind of serious but diplomatic tone she used when arguing with Garrison officers. “I could see your hesitance when the vendor first offered the trade. None would have denied your right to keep the item.”

Allura pulled back into herself as she spoke. It was strange to see her uncomfortable, since the princess usually kept either a tranquil or a powerful front in the face of adversity. Free from her touch, Pidge suddenly felt bad for not responding more fervently to Allura’s efforts towards a closer bond. In the castle-ship, she had pretended they were simply too different and, on Earth, too busy.

The truth was much less dignified: Allura had seemed like an unapproachable ideal, made solid only to remind Pidge of all that she could not be. She was prim and beautiful and feminine. Once upon a time, before the complexities of her multiple identities, Katie had aspired to this image, to some degree.

“You’re more important to me than a video game.” Pidge tried to be casual with the way she said this, but the knowing glint that shone in Allura’s eyes told her it was unsuccessful. “I’ll have plenty of time to find it again after the war is over.”

“Perhaps you could teach me these games once we are back.” Allura smiled at her, the picture of earnestness. “I was always curious about the time you and the other paladins dedicated to them.”

“It can be pretty frustrating,” Pidge warned, thinking of the hours she’d wasted with Hunk and Lance just to get past some particularly difficult levels.

“I have noticed that you scream a lot while playing,” the other commented thoughtfully, “but that appears to be part of the bonding experience.”

“You can say that again.” She scoffed.

“Why would I say it again?” Allura tilted her head to the side in confusion and Pidge had to disguise her laughter.

“I’m just agreeing with you.” She sometimes forgot that the Alteans weren’t completely used to Earth culture. In the Castle of Lions, the paladins were the ones to adhere to new patterns. Now, Allura and Coran had to slowly learn their customs, like with this date.

“I suppose we did have something similar in Altea,” Allura mused. “Activities like the maze we had in the Castle were quite popular among the youth.” She leaned over the table to speak in a lower voice. “The element of danger was a point of interest, though I couldn’t quite comprehend why.”

“That’s a lie and you know it!” Pidge pointed accusingly at Allura. “You’re almost as bad as Keith with throwing yourself into dangerous situations.”

“Am not!” It was always funny to rile her up like this. Allura was so calm and collected that getting her to sound immature was a reward in itself. The other shook her head and settled back into her seat, straightening her posture. “Oh, I know what you are doing.”

Pidge continued to grin at her. “What am I doing?”

The princess narrowed her eyes at Pidge, but her mouth struggled with a smile. “You and Lance have such a way of getting me to lose my cool.” She tapped a rhythm on the table. “I must admit it is endearing.”

There it was again, the shock of warmth and sadness that had troubled Pidge the entire day. She loved Allura and was even happy for her, but her heart was conflicted by the news of her new-found interest in Lance.

It just seemed so sudden, Pidge hadn’t had the opportunity to prepare herself. Or maybe those two had grown closer in the Garrison, while she tried her best not to see them, and this was simply the outcome of her bad choices.

Pidge was saved from responding by the arrival of Romelle, her arms full of napkins.

“What a bargain!” She proclaimed as the packages fell from her hands and bounced across the tabletop. “They have agreed to serve us their best delicacies in trade of Pidge’s autographs, a video of her endorsement and an appearance once every phoeb for the next five moons!” The blonde beamed down at them. “On that regard, what is an endorsement?”

Allura and Pidge shared a dismayed look over the piles of napkins.

“Surely they do not expect Pidge to autograph all of these.” Allura gave Romelle an hesitant smile, as if her politeness could change the answer they all knew was coming.

Romelle blinked at them. “The cook assured me it was an amazing deal.”

Pidge pinched the bridge of her nose, calling on any patience she could muster. She had nothing against Romelle and the Altean was nice and cheerful most of the time, but her naivete when dealing with human conventions never failed to amaze.

“Oh dear,” Allura fretted. “I should go deal with that.”

“Think you can convince them to give us food without getting me stuck here for the near future?” Pidge teased, to disguise her vexation.

Her friend slid off the booth. “I have reasoned with beings from several galaxies, I cannot fathom a Terran entrepreneur will be more stubborn than certain members of the coalition.” Allura straightened her spine and clasped her hands over her stomach, looking every bit the princess she was. The determination in her expression made Pidge smile.

“I can autograph one pile of napkins and I agree to do a video endorsement, but I’m not changing back into costume.” She turned to look at Romelle, who seemed to be accompanying the conversation with good-humored confusion. There was something almost sly about the look in her eyes. “I’m going into space tomorrow, how was I supposed to come back? Besides, I’m grounded. If mom found out we were finished shopping, she’d already be here to drag me home.”

“I might have been swayed by the delicious smells wafting from the kitchen,” the other admitted in a manner that could pass for sheepish. She eyed the napkins, before picking up a package. “I suppose these are a little excessive.”

Allura sighed. “I will be right back.”

They watched the princess move towards the front of the coffeeshop, where the human owner was talking to another set of customers. Romelle sat down where Allura had previously been.

“Alone at last.” She clapped her hands together and faced Pidge with a seriousness that contrasted with her usual vibrancy.

Pidge narrowed her eyes at Romelle. “I knew you were plotting something.”

The blonde shrugged. “I wanted to talk to you privately and I didn’t think we would get the chance in the Garrison.” She glanced back to where Allura stood waiting for the other customers to leave. “The owner was a darling, but he was a tremendous flirt, so Allura won’t be here any time soon.”

“Do I even have to sign anything?” Pidge rested her chin on her hand.

“He wants a picture with you and the princess and an autograph to hang on the wall, but that’s it.” Romelle winked at her.

“So what do you want?” Pidge tapped a finger against her cheek. She didn’t mean to sound so suspicious, but the girl’s orchestrations made the situation feel a little like a trap.

“To thank you.” The emotion in her voice sounded almost like pity. “For your sacrifice today.”

Pidge groaned. “I already told Allura that the video game wasn’t that much of a loss.”

“I am not talking about the game.” There was a moment of silence, during which Pidge kept very still. “I saw your reaction when we told you about the date. It was only then that I realized: you like pointy chin.”

“What makes you think that?” She raised a brow at Romelle, doing her best to appear natural.

“It makes sense.” Romelle looked up at the sparse decorations that adorned the coffeeshop, her expression pensive. “He’s the one you spend the most time with, after Hunk. I didn’t think you were interested in romance, given your almost complete lack of sentimentality,” and here she made a face at Pidge, “but I suppose we’re all dealing with high emotions right now.”

Pidge didn’t know how to reply. So far, Matt was the only one who had realized her crush on Lance and he’d been thankfully quiet since. The whole day left her feeling off-center, especially with what Romelle now wanted her to confess. Pidge didn’t want to talk about her feelings. She wanted to take her bayard and carve the jealousy and affection and misery right out of her chest.

Romelle took her silence as a sign to go on. “Look, I know we are not close, but you can talk to me.” The expression on her face was so eager that Pidge didn’t immediately protest. “You are… not kind. Not always, at least, but genuine.” Romelle hurried through her words. “Which is more than can be said about others I’ve met since arriving on Earth. And I can see how much you care for Allura, though you hide it beneath your sarcasm and reluctance.”

“Has anyone on Earth given you trouble?” Pidge chose to focus on the subject that was easier to approach. Romelle clearly knew what she was doing, because the blonde gave her a very annoyed look. “The team and I have tried to shield you from the politics of having non-humans around, but it’s not always possible.”

“I grew up worshipping a man who turned out to be harvesting quintessence from the bodies of my family and friends,” Romelle stated coolly. “I can handle the Terrans.”

“Well, this thing has to go both ways.” Pidge leaned back against the booth to gesture forcefully in the other’s direction. “If you want me to talk to you, then you need to talk to me.”

Romelle seemed to consider this, her eyes narrowed. “Fair enough.” She glanced quickly over her shoulder, then leaned forward. “I know we both want what’s best for Allura, but I hope you will be happy, too.”

Her eagerness brought a small smile to Pidge’s lips, even as her chest constricted with the acknowledgement of her feelings.

There were many things in the universe that she valued more than romance: her family, her intellect and ability to continue learning, and now her friends. Pidge would do anything to keep them safe and content, regardless of how she felt about Lance. She would eventually get over him, of this Pidge was sure.

She loved Lance, but she loved herself more.

“I don’t need a boy to be happy, Romelle. I just want this war to be over.”

The blonde nodded at her response. “You have already done so much for me by going against Lotor.” She sighed. “You will always have my loyalty for that.”

Pidge took a moment to study her. Romelle could be energetic and joyful, but she had also suffered more loss than Pidge could really comprehend. She had never believed Matt and her father were dead, even on the early days of the Garrison’s declaration. Hope had moved her forward, but Romelle hadn’t had that privilege.

“Have I ever told you how I became a paladin?” she asked, much to Romelle’s surprise.

“I don’t believe so, no.” The other furrowed her brows in puzzlement. “Are you changing the subject again?”

“I was just thinking that we have more in common than you know.” Pidge lowered her eyes to the tabletop, tracing a series of scratches with the tip of her fingers. “You have met my brother Matt, haven’t you?”

Allura approached as she said this, a tray of food balanced on her hand. “Oh, has Romelle heard of your search for Matt?”

Pidge stood up to help Allura place the coffee without spilling it and grinned at her friend’s enthusiasm. “I was just about to tell her.”

The princess sat down next to Romelle and put her hands to her chest in a show of sympathy. “It is a lovely story, please go on.”

With a laugh, she did.

#voltron #plance #lidge #pidgance #flirtyrobot #cyance #voltron legendary defender #vld #katie holt #pidge gunderson #vld lance #lance mcclain #vld fanfiction #vld syl verse

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nightbts · 5 years ago

Text

through the night | jjk | 03

pairing: jeon jungkook + stylist! reader

word count: 1.8k

genre: fluff, angst + idol! au, friends to lovers! au

parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

an: a short filler while i deal with my horrible writer’s block, sorry everyone :”(

listen to this playlist while reading!

best of friends. that’s what you and jungkook were. as their stylist for several years now, you and jungkook got along like no other and over time developed a friendship that was special to the two of you. but what happens when an IU collaboration deal, a jealous childhood-best friend and secret feelings get intertwined with the simple life you thought you were living?

“Shit! Jungkook!?” you heard, as a chorus of colorful language was followed by are you okays? and where does it hurt?

Your head snapped up from the beauty kits you had been given to organize, as your eyes quickly found the boys huddled around Jungkook who was on the ground. His hands gripped his ankle as his face reflected a look of pain you’d never seen on him before.

Running towards the scene, you squeezed yourself through the crowd before settling yourself right next to his side.

“Hey! J-Jungkook! What’s wrong? What happened? Where does it hurt? Are you alright?!” you sputtered, questions spilling out one after the other, your eyes shining with evident concern.

Glancing up at you, Jungkook saw how your eyes trembled as you looked back and forth from his ankle to his face. As he tried to respond a shooting pain ran up his leg, causing him to bend over and hold his ankle only tighter as he groaned, “Shit! I don’t know--I just fell on it. I don’t think I hurt it too bad, but I can’t move it without it hurting like shit.”

“Can you get up Jungkook? You have to try.” Namjoon spoke up softly behind you, “We have to move you backstage so we can get the medic to help you.”

As Jungkook nodded, Namjoon, Jin, and Hoseok tried lifting the boy up to a standing position, but not without Jungkook grimacing in pain, as he felt his ankle throb at an intensity he had never felt before.

“Will he be alright?” a voice asked from behind you, startling you as you pulled your eyes away from Jungkook to Jiho, who was looking at Jungkook with just as much concern in his own eyes.

Biting your lip, you shook your head as you watched the boys move Jungkook backstage, “I-I don’t know Jiho. We have time before the tour starts but, you know how Jungkook is...” you trailed off, both of you understanding exactly what you had meant by that.

In all the years you had known Jungkook, you knew how hard he took fallbacks like this, even the ones he had no control over. You could already tell the pain he was feeling right now came mostly from being unable to practice and perform, rather than his ankle itself.

Cracking the door open, you peered inside the hotel room; the dim light radiating from the table lamp illuminated the entire room with a soft glow as the TV played softly in the background. As your eyes scanned the room you saw him, eyes closed as his back rested against the bed frame while his ankle, that had been wrapped up in a cast, laid atop several pillows. Walking towards him, you set a bag full of drinks and snacks you had got him on his bedside table before taking a seat on the edge of the bed beside him.

Your hand immediately found its way to his hair as you gently brushed his bangs away from his forehead; however, the sensation seemed to pull Jungkook out of his sleep as you watched his nose scrunch, his eyes following as they fluttered open, revealing his soft brown orbs looking straight into yours.

“Y/N....” he muttered as you stood there slightly flustered, quickly pulling your hand away, embarrassed to be caught in the act of something so...intimate.

“H-hey...” you cleared your throat, face still flushed with a gentle shade of pink, “How are you feeling now?”

Seeming to take no notice of your flustered state, Jungkook merely sent a smile your way, his voice filled with groggy enthusiasm, “Mmm, a lot better!”

But you knew better. His forced look of hope. His constricted smile. His fake enthusiasm. You knew better. Raising a brow, you looked at him knowingly before he sighed, the demeanor he held up for you falling down almost immediately.

“It never works on you, does it?” he chuckled softly, although you could see the slight despair in his eyes.

“Do you expect it to?” you countered jokingly, as you gave him a slight punch to the arm, “I know you too well Jeon Jungkook.”

"Oh? That almost sounds like a challenge?”

Leave it to the boy who just woke up to immediately indulge in a competition.

Shaking your head with laughter, you lifted your hand and motioned for him to bring it on.

“Birthday?”

“September 1, 1997.”

“Favorite artist?”

“You’re kidding, right? IU.”

Smiling sheepishly, he accepted, “That was too easy, I admit.”

“Okay, next one. Make it actually hard and not a fact that nearly all of ARMY already knows.”

Thinking silently to himself, his eyes were deep into thought when you saw them suddenly brighten, knowing a question came to him. Jungkook smirked as he knew he’d said this only once when both of you were drunk, and knew there was no way you’d remember it.

Smiling devilishly, he asked, “Fine, how did I confess to my middle school girlfriend?”

“You sang her a song and gave her a rose,” you replied almost immediately, your own lips tilting up into a smirk.

[AN: fyi I totally made that up]

Blinking in surprise, Jungkook abruptly moved from the bed frame towards you as he stuttered, “H-How do you remember that?!”

It was late at night. The moon shined brightly above, the stars twinkling in the distance as you heard the silence of the night interrupted sporadically by the sounds of your local city nightlife. You and Jungkook were sitting on the rooftop of the boys’ dormitory, empty bottles of soju and snack bags surrounding the both of you.

It had been a day, to say the least. And when Jungkook had texted you “Soju?” at 11 pm, despite being on your way back home, you turned around without a second thought and made your way over.

After having several bottles of soju, yelling cheers after every single shot, the two of you laid against the brick wall, completely, utterfuly wasted.

“Truth or dare?” you giggled, as you lazily pointed your empty soju bottle towards Jungkook’s direction.

“Truth or dare? What are we, in elementary school?” Jungkook snorted in return until he turned his head sideways to see you glaring underneath the soju bottle that was still pointed towards him.

Laughing at the way your face contorted into a pout, your lips pursed together, as your cheeks remained flush from the soju, he finally caved in, “Fineeee, I pick truth!”

Breaking out into a wide smile, you pumped your fists in the air as you cheered loudly into the night sky.

“Well, are you going to ask me?”

At that, you slowly let your hands fall to your side. Looking up at him, your lips pursed up again, this time however in concentration as you thought long and hard. However, soon enough your shoulders dropped before you let out a whine, “Wait...I don’t know what to ask...”

“Oh Y/N~” Jungkook cooed, as he brought his hands up to your face, squishing your cheeks together, “You got alllll worked up for that to not even have something to ask me?”

Blinking at him, you felt your cheeks grow hot at the touch of his warm hands against your face. His eyes were just millimeters from your own and you could feel your heart suddenly beating erratically in your chest.

“Jungkook, do you like me?”

Before you could hold back the words that came tumbling past your lips, you had said them out loud -- the very words you’d ask him in your mind, countless times before.

This time, Jungkook stared at you with an unknown look in his eyes, and before you could take back what you said, he replied, “Wait...what did you say?”

Letting out an awkward giggle, you quickly tried to move past the words you said as you grabbed his shoulders, pulling him close to you, “Oh, dummy! Are you deaf? Did the soju make your hearing all wacky?!”

Whispering into his ear, you stumbled through your words, “I-I said! Jungkook, have you ever liked someone?!”

Pulling away from you, his brows furrowed in confusion before saying, “Is that what you said?! I swear, I heard something else-”

“Yes!!” you quickly interrupted, your eyes wide open as you nodded your head excessively, “That is exacTLY what I asked,” you emphasized, reassuring both him and yourself.

Laughing at your frenzied state, he sat back against the brick wall, taking another swig of the remaining soju he had.

“Well, that’s a long story Y/N...” he trailed off, a soft smile appearing on his face as he stared deeply off into the distance as memories of his childhood years danced across his mind.

The rest of the night was spent with both of you going back and forth talking about the endless memories of your childhood romance; the one-sided crushes, the childish relationships, the drama, the theatrics, all of it. And it was nights like this, where you’d wake up the next morning thinking neither of you remembered the night before, that actually became memories of times where the both of you had grown closer together.

“Just because I was drunk doesn’t mean I forget things easily Jungkook,” you grinned as you reached forward to playfully tousle his recently dyed, soft, brown hair.

“Hey!” he whined as he swatted your hands away, trying to fix it back to what it had looked before.

Eventually, the atmosphere of the room fell into a comfortable lull, besides the sounds of the TV playing in the background and the rumbling air conditioner. background.

Until you heard Jungkook whisper with a soft sigh, his head hung low, “You know? This always happens.”

Your eyes fell back on Jungkook just to notice the way he stared straight at his ankle, his lips forming a straight line. Sighing in frustration, he ran his hands back through his hair, “I always fuck it up and get hurt. How am I going to practice with the rest of the boys now? What’s going to happen to the concert? The rest of tour--”

“Hey, slow down there,” you interrupted, before adding sternly, “Jungkook, this is in no way your fault, you hear me?”

Letting out an empty chuckle, his head hung low before he said dejectedly, “I don’t know Y/N...If I had just been a little more careful, If I had not gotten ahead of myself I wouldn’t have slipped--”

Grabbing his hands in your own, the feeling of your soft fingers treading above his knuckles caused him to look up at you in surprise, yet what surprised him more was the look in your eyes: determination.

“I know this sucks right now, believe me. I have been with you guys on countless tours where all of you had something like this happen and I know how shitty you feel right now but tell me, where is that going to get you?”

Your grip on his hands got tighter, as you continued, “You can sit here and wallow all you want. But guess what, your hyungs aren’t going to do that! They’re going to be out there practicing more, harder, longer because they don’t want to let you down. So what are you going to do? Sit here and hate yourself or try to practice for this world tour in ways you are able to? After all, it’s just your ankle! What does that affect? Your dancing? You can still sing. You can still watch and help the rest of the members. You can still coordinate the performances. There’s so much you can still do Jungkook!” you rambled, your breath heavy as your chest rose up and down.

Staring at you with wide eyes, Jungkook went still. As a sudden silence filled the room after your impromptu outburst, Jungkook’s lack of words started to make you slightly nervous, uncomfortable at the least.

“I’m sorry, was that a bit much--?” you winced apologetically before you heard him erupt into laughter.

That little--!

As he bellowed over in laughter, his entire body shaking as his eyes filled up with tears, you stared at him in utter shock before finding yourself hitting the side of his arm, “Hey! Stop laughing so hard, your going to hurt your ankle if you keep moving like that!”

Catching his breath, he tried to suppress his laughter but every time his eyes met your horrified ones, he burst into laughter again.

“Oh my. I give up with you.” you sighed in exasperation before standing up from where you had been sitting, turning around to leave the crackhead you called your best friend.

“Wait, wait, wait, I’m sorry!” Jungkook chuckled softly before grabbing your arm, preventing you from leaving. Turning around you gave him a sour look until he smiled sheepishly at you, motioning for you to sit back down beside him.

“You’re right.” you heard him finally say after his laughter had subsided. Looking back at you, he cocked his head sideways before giving you a wide smile, bunny teeth and all, “How do you always know the right words to say all the time, huh?”

Shrugging, you merely said, “It’s just the truth, that’s all.” Turning to look at him, you added, “You always blame and underestimate yourself Jungkook, you know? You don’t have to do that. You’re a lot stronger than you think.”

Before you could say anything else, you felt his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. As his head rested against the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanned your skin as he whispered softly, “Thank you. Thank you so much for being there.”

Melting into his touch as you always do, your hands found the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair as you whispered back, “Always. Even when you don’t want my annoying ass to be there.”

Chuckling, you could feel the vibrations of his chest rumble against yours before he added, “Trust me, I’ll always want your annoying ass no matter what.”

Heart skipping a beat at his words, you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach like you were some middle-school girl. However, the smile that appeared on your face quickly faded away, as you realized he didn't mean it any way that meant more than the long friendship the two of you shared.

#bts #bts scenarios #bts drabbles #bts fluff #bts angst #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook scenarios #jungkook drabbles #jungkook imagines #jungkook #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #park jimin #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #min yoongi #kim seokjin

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