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hijack711 · 1 year ago

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CHAPTER 4:

Tag(s): fluff, story building, daily life, wholesome moments

Another new day came, and the rays of sunlight gradually crept into every corner they could. Even though he wasn't bothered by the alarm, Rehn still woke up relatively early, stretched his arms to pick up the phone, and the time displayed was 05:50. Rehn himself was surprised by this. Looking to the side, Rehn smiled and stroked the hair of the girl he loved. Her lips were somewhat pursed for sleeping sideways, making Rehn always feel like she was a little child. Getting out of bed, Rehn pulled the blanket over Rosé before heading to the kitchen to conduct his morning ritual.

All 6 members of Unity loved the scent and bitter taste of coffee, and 3 of them had a certain level of passion for this drink, so on the long marble kitchen countertop placed several tools and machines for coffee making such as a moka pot, an espresso machine, a manual espresso maker, and Rehn's personal favorite, the phin filter, his homeland signature coffee brewing tool.

Rehn put the coffee in the filter and poured in a little bit of boiling water just enough for the coffee to bloom, expand, and set, then added another round of it. Feeling craving for a breakfast dish with eggs, Rehn decided to make scrambled eggs, served with tater tots made from last night's grated potatoes.

It was 6:50 a.m., and Rehn heard something coming from upstairs, where the door to the room at the end of the hallway opened and closed. Rehn immediately knew that Rosé was awake. Walking towards her boyfriend, Rosé instantly hugged him.

“Jesus Christ, don't bite me! Go over there and clean your mouth, babe.” - Rehn

“Okayyyy.” - Rosé dragged her feet lazily toward the sink

“I wonder what dish you would like to eat?” - Rehn

“A bowl of pho with a glass of iced milk coffee, honey.” - Rosé

“Sorry, babe. Remember? Drink less caffeinated drinks, babe, or I can make you a glass of fruit punch.” - Rehn

“Oh okay.” - Rosé

While waiting for her boyfriend to make breakfast, Rosé kept staring at Rehn with her eyes half open while sitting at the kitchen island.

“Don't stare at me like that, I can't concentrate, hahaha.” - Rehn burst out laughing when he heard Rosé said

“How did you know that? Oh, and the last few times too.” - Rosé

“Rosie, babe, it's been two months since we went on a date night, guess where I'll take you to eat tonight.” - Rehn

“Hmmm, is it the bulgogi restaurant where we took your parents to?” - Rosé

“Okay, it's decided, thank you.” - Rehn

“Huhhh? What was that? Confused unga.” - Rosé

“Learning from my own experience every time I ask you where to eat, I finally came to a conclusion that I'll just let you decide, it'll be quicker.” - Rehn

…

About an hour later, Ivy and Damian arrived at the kitchen area.

“Seriously, do you intend to live here rent-free?” - Ivy

“You've only been here three days but you've almost demolished all the food in our refrigerator, Chaeyoung noona. Every damn time we suffer from food shortages, it is mainly because of you.” - Damian

“Why is everyone in this house so mean to me? Okay, if that's the case then I'll call your parents so they can lecture you again, honey." - Rosé

“Da fuq? They called you that and now I'm at fault. What in the f*cking logic is this?” - Rehn

“That's because you're the leader of the group and also considered the head of the family, so you better be prepared for your parents to give you another whoop in your pretty bum, honey. By the way, I do like your butt.” - Rosé winked

“Eww, gross, go show your feelings elsewhere, go back to your room.” - Ivy and Damian

A few minutes passed, and the four people's conversation gradually became more lively. Due to the loudness of the conversation, and the volume of the chat still showed no signs of decreasing, it woke up the remaining three members of Unity and they undeniably displayed signs of dissatisfaction.

“Why is it so noisy? I was having a great sleep!” - Sirene

“Oh, you're not leaving yet, unnie, why are you here for so long?” - Yuki

“Watch your mouth, you little shit … There, your coffee.” - Ivy

“Thank you.”- Baekgi

“So, what have you been talking about just now? I vaguely heard you guys say something about food.” - Sirene

“Well, I was going to invite my girls to come here for a feast or we could go to a restaurant this weekend, it's been a while since our two groups went out together.” - Rosé

“So noona, what are we going to eat?” - Baekgi

“It could be seafood or grilled food, I'm still wondering which one to choose.” - Rosé

“Or we can go eat yakitori, I know a place.” - Rehn

“Ah, I remember that restaurant.” - Ivy

“By the way, unnie, how was the checkup?” - Yuki

“It was good, the doctor just told me to pay attention to my diet and get more rest.” - Rosé

While Rosé was chatting with the four members of Unity, Rehn stood at the side and smiled, watching his girlfriend have fun and relaxing moments after a long period of tiring work, which was nothing good for Rosé's health, especially for her current physical and mental condition. Noticing that her younger brother was dumbfounded looking at someone she knew, Ivy nudged his shoulder slightly, she smiled proudly at Rehn.

“It was a bit risky, little brother, but you managed to pull it off, such a man you are.” - Ivy

“I just did everything I could, we didn't even plan for it, even if we did it would have been much later in our lives. Thank you for backing me up, sis!” - Rehn

“When you told me the news, I was so worried, but then I remembered that you spent most of your childhood in America with the guys from the hood, you even beat them at their own game, so I was relieved, glad that I was right.” - Ivy

…

It was a quarter to eleven, a black coupé was speeding towards a designated place, the car took one last turn and then drove straight into the parking lot. The suicide doors opened and stepped out of the car were Rehn and Rosé. The two then held hands and walked into the elevator to go to Rosé's apartment which she shared with Lisa. Walking up to the door, Rosé had to do what she always found a bit annoying which was unlock it and it had two layers of security.

“Lisa, I brought food home.” - Rosé

“Oh, you're back. Ah, oppa, hiiii. You go girl, you have a boyfriend so there is no need to care about your sisters, right? Well, it is obvious when you are in love. Back then, she always said "Single life is so fun, it's just the four of us.", but now she mercilessly pushes us aside." - Lisa

“Honey, let's go, leave her be.” - Rosé

“No no no, I'm sorry, it was just a joke, did you have to take it the hard way.” - Lisa

“I've always been curious why you're always single but now I know, it seems like your communication skills are not on par with your dancing ones, Lisa.” - Rosé

“Ouch, sis, that's hurt. Oppa, did you hear what your girlfriend said? Being in a relationship with oppa, your sarcasm is getting better and better.” - Lisa

“Okay, stop teasing each other. No offense, Lily, you are good with your words, you have a sexy brain and a great sense of humor, but you often carry your jokes too far. You have your own beauty, Lily, just continue to nurture your beauty and improve what needs to be improved.” - Rehn

Because Rehn was in the kitchen and was busy arranging the food containers neatly, he didn't know that Lisa's eyes were wide open and surprised by what he said.

“Ah… uhmm… thank you oppa.” - Lisa shyly answered with a blush on her cheeks

“Awww, Hank, sweetie, are you doing good with Aunty Lisa? Come to mommy.” - Rosé

Upon hearing noises in his territory, Hank woke up and had a look around the apartment. Hank heard his mother call his name but decided to do a feint and rushed towards his dad.

“What the???” - Rosé

“Hahahaha, kekeke.” - Lisa and Rehn burst out laughing at the expression on Rosé's face

“Hank, you love your daddy more than me?” - Rosé was in disbelief

Suddenly the doorbell rang, attracting everyone's attention. Looking at the indoor monitor screen, Rosé saw that it was Jisoo so she quickly opened the door for her sister.

“Hi unnie.” - Rosé

“Oh, you're back, I thought you were still at oppa's place.” Jisoo

“Oh oppa, hiiiii, do you need any help?” Jisoo was in a great mood today and it was even better when she saw the jokester of Unity.

“Hi Chichi, ah, thank you but I'm okay. We brought you girls’ favorite dishes.” - Rehn

“Thanks, oppa!” - Jisoo

“Well, that's a bummer.” - Lisa

“What is it?” - Rosé

“Jennie just finished her pottery class but couldn't find a cab due to the traffic jam.” - Lisa

“Was it the pottery class you girls told us when our two groups went to the pizza place near it?” - Rehn

“Yeah yeah, that’s the one, oppa.” Lisa

“Honey, can you go pick her up? How long will it take, 20 minutes?” Rosé

“Are you underestimating my driving skills, you amateur?” - Rehn asked in a playful tone while doing the pointing pose of Jotaro

“Pfftttt, hahaha, what the heck, oppa?” The girls laughed

“Hahaha, stop fooling around, you comedian.” - Rosé

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” - Rehn

…

Standing on the sidewalk watching countless vehicles jostling and competing to move forward, Jennie felt unlucky to have chosen today to go to the pottery class. KakaoTalk's notification bell rang, it was a message from Rosé telling Jennie that Rehn was on his way to pick her up. The displayed time showed that Rosé's message was sent 10 minutes ago. Before Jennie could reply, she heard someone calling.

“Yen-ah. Hop in.” - Rehn

Jennie did not respond but just smiled exposing her mandu cheeks and hopped in the car.

“Pfftt, heeheehee, oppa, what’s up with your hair? It's a mess.” - Jennie

“Well, apparently, Jisoo can handle the spiciness better than my jokes, and because of that, she gave me one hell of a smash.” - Rehn

“Hahahaha, wait, she “smashed” you?” - Jennie teasingly asked

“Yeah, ……, wait, no, not that kind of smash.” - Rehn tried to save his life after realizing what he just said

“Ohhh, someone doesn’t think before they talk, yet you dared to tell me to mind my words, hmmm.” - Jennie

“Ok, thanks for reminding me, and let me clarify, Jisoo only gave me a few blows to the head.” - Rehn

“Huhh? She gave you head? Hahahaha.” - Jennie

“Wait, fuck, NO, Kim fucking Jennie, you seem to love wordplay, huh? What got into you today?” - Rehn

“Hahahaha.” - Jennie

Rehn couldn’t help but laugh with Jennie at his own mistakes. The jokester was in disbelief that Jennie had given him a taste of his own medicine. Rehn wasn’t even mad but joyful at Jennie’s friendly retaliation, he was relieved that Jennie was back to her happy self after all the drama.

“You dare use my own spells against me, Potter?” Rehn

“Hahaha, and also, oppa, I know you have a good sense of fashion but THESE?!!” - Jennie

“You are specialized in roasted foods, right, because you are doing a very good job at roasting me.” - Rehn

I was kinda out of words to describe the sound of Jennie’s laugh at this point so the best I could come up with was Jennie laughed out loud and then wheezed as she started to slide out of her seat.

“Whoa whoa whoa, girl, get a hold of yourself.” - Rehn

“One thing for sure is you’re starting to adopt some of mine antics.” - Rehn

“I think I’m kinda becoming more like you, oppa.” - Jennie smilingly said

“Yeah, you’re becoming more like me.” - Rehn

The laughter of the two was gradually replaced by a pause of silence as Rehn needed to concentrate to weave through the traffic. Noticing that they were no longer caught in a traffic jam, Jennie asked.

“Oppa, are you free tonight?” - Jennie

“Oh, sorry Yen, Imma take Rosé out for a date tonight.” - Rehn

“Oh, you don’t have to be sorry, oppa. It’s just that our group is about to get back to work so I was kinda hoping to hang out with you … anddd your group.” - Jennie breathed a sigh of relief

“Well, no need to worry about that, we still have many opportunities, you just need to set the date.” - Rehn assured her

“Okay, oppa.” - Jennie

…

Returning to the apartment she shared with Jisoo, Jennie left her belongings there and accompanied Rehn to the apartment of Lisa and Rosé which was right next to theirs.

"Hi, Girls." - Jennie

"Wow, that was fast, oppa." - Lisa

"Next time, when we need to order deliver, I'll call you, oppa" Jisoo

"Then I'll make sure to charge you triple." Rehn

“Honey, come, have some lunch. Jennie unnie, here’s the plate, come on, dig in, oppa made a lot. ” - Rosé

After the lunch ended, Lisa and Jisoo went to the room leaving a poor Jennie to clean the table while Rosé and Rehn had to wash the dishes. Jennie looked towards the two of them and then shifted her eyes to Rehn.

"Wish I could have more opportunities like you said, oppa." - Jennie thought to herself

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#fluff #kpop #character building #blackpink #blackpink rosé

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7official7moose7 · 3 years ago

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Some Bruno hcs that live rent free in my head:

Has these little green reading glasses that he uses to read (obviously)

They have a chain attached to them that Mirabel made when she was like 3 or 4 (yknow like the little glasses chain that loops around so you can take the glasses off and have them hang around your neck)

Can hear his visions sometimes—like if it's a vision of someone talking to someone else he can hear the conversation (though it's very rare; when it does happen though, it takes a lot out of him)

Can feel most of his involuntary visions coming up to an hour before they happen

It starts as a fuzzy pressure behind his eyes like a tension headache and the intensity increases until it finally shows itself

His involuntary visions can also be very sudden; one second he's talking to his sisters or making coffee and the next his eyes go wide and start glowing as green images flash in his sight and when he comes back he's lightheaded and a bit confused but ultimately unfazed (albeit annoyed)

It scares the shit out of most, but Pepa and Julieta are pretty much used to it by now and they make sure he doesn't faint on the spot when he comes to

Speaking of—when they happen, Bruno can't see anything other than the vision; so from the outside, they can see his eyes glowing as he looks around frantically, but he's still aware of his surroundings so he can still hear and feel them outside of his vision, but it's somewhat difficult to respond when he's not doing a prophecy and it's just an inv. one

Has a severe sweet tooth (will eat any candy EXCEPT licorice, but dark chocolate is his most favorite and everyone disagrees except for Julieta)

Pepa: THAT'S NOT CHOCOLATE THAT'S DIRT

Bruno: it's better than milk chocolate

Pepa: take it back. Take it back rIGHT NOW OR ISTG-

Rarely ever drinks, but when he does he's a spacey drunk (and a fuckn lightweight)

Like he'll just sit there staring at the floor while Agustín and Félix are joking around and Julieta will come in and be like "wait are you. Are you drunk?" And Bruno will look up at her, deadpan, and go "heheh. yeah"

Is emotionally attached to his ruana and if he loses it he loses his shit and is very anxious and upset until he finds it again

Camilo got the :3 smile from Bruno

Ex:

Camilo's is more pronounced but Bruno's is still there :3

Has a funky ass high-pitched scream and is v embarrassed abt it (this is basically canon tho bc his sCREECH WHERE MIRABEL DROPPED HIM I- PFFHSHSHHAHSHSSH)

Is probably aro/ace (I understand that some people are going a bit too far with the lgbt hcs, I just wanna say that is not what I am doing here; I know the movie is about family relationships, Colombia, generational trauma and finding self-worth!! I promise I'm not trying to take away from the main theme, it's just a lil idea in my head, that's all <'3)

Definitely a sneezes-in-threes guy (they used to be super loud but now he sneezes like a mouse (or a rat hahsgdakgjgd))

When Bruno is sick/very VERY tired, his powers get wack (as does the other Madrigal's)

Constant visions, left and right, about things that will either happen the second he stops seeing it or things that won't happen until like 100 years later; his eyes won't stop glowing even when he's not seeing the future; one sneeze causes either a plethora of sudden visions or fastforwards time by like a couple seconds, leaving everyone in the Encanto confused as to how they were just getting up to go get a snack to already looking in the pantry

Has visions in his sleep but usually can't remember them until they happen

If he manages to sleep at all that is

He's a very light sleeper, the smallest creak leaves him wide awake

Doesn't snore. Like at all. Unlike Pepa who sounds like a friggin freight train

Has very quiet footsteps, sneaks up on everyone unintentionally (one time Pepa was reading a book and she looked up and he was just standing there in the doorway staring at her and she was like "HOW TF DID I NOT HEAR YOU"

The last 3 above are all probably either just how he is or because of him hiding in the walls

Has surprisingly great hygiene

Cares a LOT about the rats and was overjoyed to be able to communicate with them when Antonio offered to translate

Bruno doesn't consider the rats his rats; "they just kinda adopted me, I guess" he told Mirabel and Camilo when they asked about it

Used to be mistaken for a little girl sometimes when he was a kid once his hair started growing out

This prompted Julieta and Pepa to dress him up like a sister all the time, and he honestly didn't mind it; his "sister name" was "brunilda"

Sometimes his visions give him nosebleeds or sore eyes (his sight gets kinda fuzzy for a few days but it's nothing terrible)

When he's not nervous or stressed, Bruno is a pretty laid-back chill kind of guy, might have been a little troublemaker in his early years

Is really good with kids; Hernando and Jorge used to be his imaginary friends but he brought them back for his sister's kids

Basically he's That One Uncle That Everyone Thinks Is On Drugs Or Has Done Drugs But He's Really Just Naturally Like That™

I'll add more when I'm not about to pass out from lack of sleep 😭👍

#bruno madrigal #disney encanto #encanto headcanons #bruno madrigal headcanons #bee's encanto tag #bee speaks #ugh im literally fighting to keep my eyes open #boutta die okay bye

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superhero--imagines · 4 years ago

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Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info

Part 2 Here!/ Part 3 Here! / Playlist Here!

* Sorry guys but this mans been living in my head rent free

* So the first time you see Satoru it’s with those black specs he likes to wear and you get a glance at those GORGEOUS eyes

* He meets your eyes for a second before looking away, it’s the briefest of interactions

* But your heart is racing and you can feel the familiar heat of attraction starting to lap at your face

* ‘He looks just like a prince’ you think

* You find out pretty fast the ‘prince’ similarities stop at appearance

* “Ah it’s not my fault you’re so weak~” You hear him say with the princely smile as he teases Utahime

* It looks like he’s held something so high she can’t reach it

* “Try your best, if you drink plenty of milk I’m sure you’ll be tall enough one day~” he says before laughing with that same princely face

* ��You shouldn’t pick on those that are weaker than you” Geto intervenes, somehow making the entire situation worse

* You watch as Gojo laughs

* You’re starting to think he might be the real curse you need to exorcise

* You continue watching him as Utahime tries to kick him in the crotch

* “You silly girl, did you forget there’s an infinity between us?” Cue Gojo’s “A-hahahahaha” laugh

* Yeah, he’s definitely a demon

* You keep your distance, Gojo’s beautiful and all, but you’re not dumb, you’ve heard about the Satoru clan.

* “Hey Geto-Kun, who do you think would win in a fight me or a lion?”

* Besides that guy is way too reckless, you’d rather not get all mixed up in that if you can help it

* You watch as Satoru takes his shirt off, his well defined chest glistening

* Still, you’re grateful for the show

* Little do you know the famous Gojo Satoru has taken note of you as well

* Naturally given his ability he notices everyone, but he especially takes note of you

* It’s not because you stand out, quite the opposite

* You blend into the background easily, supporting others when needed

* But not to the degree where you unable to defend yourself, or you’re sacrificing your own life for someone else

* He grins

* Looks like he found something interesting

* You’re at the vending machine eyes racking over the drink selection

* But there’s another thirst quenching sight right next to you, their hand resting on the vending machine, that princely smile aimed right at you-

* “So what do you say?” Satoru asks, and you start to wonder if that princely smile seems just a bit wolfish “Do you want to be my lover?”

* You’re kind of annoyed

* What an impetuous question, you can count on one hand how many times you’ve spoken to each other, and you only need both hands to count the words said in each of those encounters

* “No”

* You turn your attention back to your drink choices, it’s pleasant weather so you don’t want anything hot.

* Anything carbonated is out of the-

* Gojo moves closer, peering into your face with that grin

* Ugh does he have to stand so close

* “Why ‘no’? I know you think I’m attractive”

* “I also think you’re a womanizer with a god complex”

* And really why shouldn’t he be?

* He’s probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your life, not to add the sheer power he contains in that body of his

* But just as he has the right to be a womanizer with a god complex, you have the right not to take part in that narrative

* He backs away, leaning back against the wall

* So he’s not going to deny it

* Well, at least he’s somewhat self aware

* Those clear blue eyes catch yours again, and you have to fight against every human instinct from showing any human reaction

* You turn back to the vending machine making your selection when a smile lilts onto his mouth

* “Friends then”

* “Just colleagues” you reply, grabbing your drink

* But as you walk by you push a canned beverage into his chest.

* It’s a can of green tea

* It’s his favorite drink

* He looks to you seeing a bottle glinting in your hand

* So you didn’t sacrifice your own thirst, but you also didn’t ignore his needs

* He feels that same wolffish grin curl onto his mouth

* “What an entertaining person”

* After that if you’re anywhere within a 50 feet radius of him he’ll go out of his way to get your attention

* “Oh wow, looking especially radiant this morning (Y/N/N)” he’ll say with a playful seductive wink

* When you don’t respond he tries annoying you instead

* “Ah you can’t reach that? Here let me-” and then he’ll proceed to hold it even further out of your reach

* He’s expecting you to jump up and down, or at least give some sort of response but you just walk away

* Well that wasn’t what he expected

* He feels that grin spread across his face again

* Very interesting

* His attraction to you is pretty shallow

* He’s interested you because you’re entertaining

* And you’re entertaining because you aren’t interested

* Which only makes him that much more interested in you

* Its a paradox

* You watch him flounder around, annoying Utahime for a giggle

* Well it doesn’t matter anyway, you know how he is, he’ll get bored soon enough and lose all interest in you

* He’s not the strongest {f*ckboy} for nothing

* You see him turn to meet your gaze, offering a boyish smile and a wink

* You make sure not to give any reaction, turning to listen to something Shoko is telling you

* You hope he can’t sense the twinge of heat you feel on your face

* You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find the attention a little flattering

* I think for the most part you’re right, Satoru is mostly playing around-

* At least at first.

* You’re just something new and fun no one knows about, and wildly entertaining since you never respond the way he thinks you will

* You’re kind, but not at the expense of yourself, and he likes that

* Besides you’ve got this quite sort of consideration for others-

* It’s not flashy, it’s so subtle most people hardly notice

* It’s in the way you bring an extra snack for Utahime when she’s running herself ragged training

* “They were having a two for one special”

* Or the way you’ll get your teacher a plushie you saw at a shop at the station because you know he needs more

* “I just thought it was cute, but I haven’t got any room for another one”

* You’re quiet, someone who hears things and she’s things, but never says anything about them

* A wallflower

* But you’re not weak

* There’s something about those two things put together in the same person that entertains him to no end. Like a paradox or a puzzle he can’t seem to solve no matter how hard he tries

* Satoru’s had at least a hundred lovers, and a great many of them had provided him with their own brand of kindness and consideration

* But he’s never felt something as warm as when he see’s a lunch box in his dorm after he hobbles back from a mission that lasted a little longer than expected

* He peers at the note attached, it’s not even signed but he knows it’s from you

* “I know you think you’re god or whatever, but even gods have to eat”

* He doesn’t know why, but he’s overcome with the urge to cry

* He gulps hard- it’s not like this a lunch you made by hand or anything, it’s just something from the convenience store

* And it’s not like this note is particularly affectionate or special either, he’s gotten entire love letters from his previous lovers

* So he’s not sure why he saves your note, placing it behind a picture frame where only he’ll know it is , or why he thinks that convenience store lunchbox is the most delicious thing he’s ever had

* Even though he knows he cares about you, and that he’s grown quite fond of you -

* I don’t think it clicks for him

* And part of that is because well, he’s Gojo Satoru

* He collects lovers like some people collect photographs or memories

* They serve their purpose, and he lets himself be entertained by pretending all the feelings are real, and then he moves on to the next one

* It’s just what he’s used to

* And this whole paradox you two have going on could go on for a few years until something finally shifts

* He went a little too far with one his half-flirting-half-tormenting pranks

* And for the first time you give him a reaction, it’s only for a second, but annoyance and anger mar you face

* And then just like that, it’s gone and you turn and walk off in the other direction

* Sh*t.

* He went too far didn’t he?

* It should be fine right? You’re not too mad at him right? You’ll get over it-

* Right?

* But for the next few days you don’t speak to him, and you don’t make eye contact

* It bothers him more than it should

* Normally he would be annoyed that his toy would have the gall to blatantly ignore him like this-

* But this is different than that.

* He’s-

* He’s feeling regret

* He shouldn’t have acted that way to you, maybe if he had just done something differently, or said something differently-

* It’s not like the way things were between you two was ideal or anything,

* But at least then you would at least speak to him

* ... and every once in while he would get to see you smile

* It’s never at him, it’s mostly when you’re with Shoko or Utahime

* Occasionally when you’re with Nanami or Geto, who you’ve been talking to more recently

* He’s pretty sure you three are talking about him, just one day away from forming a “down with Gojo Satoru” club

* Still that smile when you laugh-

* The way you look so carefree and young and so full of life is worth all the slander in the world to him

* He needs to see that smile, to know something that wholesome and kind exists somewhere in this cruel world

* Satoru’s thinking about how to go about apologizing to you

* He’s caught between buying you a Lamborghini or buying you a special grade tool when he ends up running into you

* “Ah, could you help me with something?”

* He would quite literally give you the clothes on his back right now if you asked

* You stand up on a a chair holding a glass of water

* “Apparently this is supposed to help with concentration or something” You say pressing the glass full of water to the ceiling

* “Can you hold this broom?” You ask and Satoru nods, holding the broom handle steady as you make sure it’s pushed against the glass holding it steady

* You nod approvingly down at him

* The rest happens pretty fast, you’re off the chair, carrying it away

* “The broom is actually a special grade tool, so cursed energy won’t work on it”

* You grin

* “Have fun figuring how to get out of that Baka Prince!” You say with a laugh

* And Satoru is dumbfounded

* But not because you just pranked him into a holding up a glass of water with a broom

* But because as you were rushing away, you showed him your teasing grin

* It’s the first time you smiled at him

* And as he looks up at the glass of water, a smile slowly spreads across his face

* It’s not the wolffish smile he usually has when he’s around you, or the princely smile he uses when he’s trying to get something

* It’s a genuine smile

* Ah, so that’s it

* He’s fallen in love with you

* If you’re not the one entertaining him, then he’s just not interested

* Ah geez

* He was so focused on trying to get you to fall in love with him that he really didn’t see this coming

* Well he’ll have to start being serious about pursuing you now-

* Though for you to pull off something like this on him tells him you’re his ideal match without a doubt

* A wallflower with a mischievous streak, he likes that.

* He scratches his head with his free hand

* “I wonder how I’m supposed to get out of this?” He muses looking up at the glass full of water

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #satoru gojō x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru Gojo imagine #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #Gojo satoru imagine #Gojo satoru headcanons #satoru Gojo headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #superhero—imagines

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tharros-auris-black-asimi · 3 years ago

Text

Take me to church (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Dark Priest Bucky Barnes x Singer Female Reader

Summary: In Modern Russia, James Buchanan Barnes is the Priest of the Catholic Church. He has a great life.

However, there is something in him. A darkness.

And once he meets you, an opera singer at the Bolshoi Opera House, that darkness ferments and grows.

But James doesn't mind corrupting you. Or him.

Not at all.

Chapter Warnings: This story takes place in modern Russia. Heavy discussions and allusions to religion are also in this story. Mentions of a past male predator, as well as past male predatory behavior, are discussed. As well as the male predator in question having an improper power imbalance/dynamic with his victims. And because of the past male predatory behavior, there is also mention of religious trauma. This fic also contains a Dark!Priest!Bucky. And, if any will be asking, yes, implied/referenced murder. If you get it, you get it.

I think that should cover all of my bases as far as the content warnings go for this chapter, but if I missed any, please let me know down below!

Italics are for Russian. As this is modern Russia, I've switched out some names to make the story a little bit more accurate. Or, as accurate as I can possibly be. Instead of Natasha, she'll be known as Natalia. And instead of Alexander Pierce being spelled like Alexander, he'll be known as Aleksandr.

Additional Notes: Wooof, this had been living rent-free in my head for the last couple of days. I wanted to have all of this mostly prewritten out, as this is officially my first Christmas Special ever! So a Happy Holidays to you all!

This story couldn't be here without the love and support of the lovely soundboard that is @lizzygal, who often encourages these crazy ideas I have brewing. A huge thank you for your enormous help! This baby couldn't have been born without your helpful suggestions.

I would also like to add that even though Priest!Bucky is Catholic in this story, I am not Catholic myself or religious, so there will be some inaccurate things in here. So, I apologize in advance if anything seems out of the ordinary.

If you'd like to read this on my AO3, you can read it here.

Word Count: 6,648

“Hey! Are you going to get drinks with us tonight?”

You balanced your phone in between your ear and your neck as you craned your neck, to support your phone. Hastily putting on your shoes, you grabbed a hold of your phone again.

Smoothing over your clothes again, you checked to make sure your makeup still looked good. You had woken up after hitting your snooze button, and in a haste, had gotten ready.

Your boss wasn’t a very nice person when it came to tardiness.

Especially considering you worked at the Opera. You were going to need to get a coffee. Almond milk, no sugar. As a performer, you were not allowed any dairy or sugar. You rehearsed your lines daily and made sure to get lots and lots of rest. You drank some hot water with lemon when you had woken up this morning, and it was a very nice pick me up.

A certain little whimper caught your attention.

“C’m here Star, gonna let me feed you before I go, baby?” You were using your baby voice. Your Chihuahua just ran up to you, jumping to scratch at your jeans. You started to laugh.

“Okay, okay, okay! I gotchu. I get it. Hold on.” Star followed you to the little pantry where you kept her dog food, the blonde-furred dog wagging her tail happily as she heard the bag open. Excitedly, she ran over and watched with wide eyes as you got her food.

“… You still there?”

Oh shit.

“Yeah, yeah Darc- I’m still here. What were you saying about drinks on Saturday?” Your response made your friend snort as you poured food into Star’s dog bowl. She went to town, chowing down as you continued to talk to Darcy over the phone. Plopping the measuring cup into her dog food bag, you sealed it back up.

“Are you going?” Darcy Lewis sounded amused as you ran to the front door of your apartment.

“Be good for me while I’m gone, okay baby?” You patted Star’s head. She whined. “I don’t know if I’ll go have drinks tonight, Darcy. I mean, I went last week. You know I still have to go to church next month on Saturday when we usually go for drinks… because of my brother. I need to pick his daughter up from church. She’s got Christmas song rehearsals.”

“Oh!” Darcy sounded delighted. “Cassie, right? Scott’s kid?”

“Yeah.”

After your dad had remarried, Scott Lang had been one of his kids. You liked Scott very much. He was very much a jokester. After he had gotten out of jail, you had helped him get back onto his feet. Now, he was in a relationship with Hope Van Dyke, co-parenting Cassie with his ex-wife. She was a singer at the Bolshoi Opera House, and you were her understudy for the production of Faust.

“Oooh! Then you can see the priest! Oh my god, I saw him at Sunday Mass, and oh my god, if he weren’t a priest-” You stopped Darcy’s gushings as you unlocked your front door, only to close it and lock it. You made a noise deep in your throat.

“That’s the frigging priest you’re talking about, Darc. I don’t need to know what he looks like, okay? I don’t need to know what he looks like while he’s in his robes. Or worse, when he’s out of them.” You couldn’t help but shudder at the thought.

Because yes, you had seen pictures of the priest He was certainly attractive. Chestnut-brown hair that went down to his shoulders, blue eyes, a strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, and not to mention his beard- he was practically a walking wet dream. Not to mention he was very muscular and broad. You had only seen pictures of him on the Internet and Google. Never in person. When you moved out of your mother’s home after you had graduated from high school, you swore to yourself that you would never attend another church.

Especially the church that the current priest now did Sunday Mass in. Just the thought of it made you terrified. It made you feel sick.

“Do you think he’s packing?” Darcy’s words made you choke.

“Oh my god, please stop.” You begged as she cackled, hearing you exit out of your apartment complex, and she heard the chatters of people walking down the busy street.

“No, seriously! He’s like, super freaking tall. He’s gotta be packing under there. Do you think his holy sword is bigger than President Rogers’s sword?” Her voice had lowered to a gossipy whisper, which made your cheeks burn in embarrassment as the thought crossed your mind of, is this truly a friend of mine that I have.

“I don’t know! Why don’t you ask him for a physical Darcy, you’re a doctor!” You proclaimed. Some people on the street looked at you funny. You apologized profusely as you continued your merry way down the street.

“I’m not a physical doctor. That’s not in my field. Why don’t you go ask him? Or ask his ex-girlfriend?” Darcy suggested. “That’s an invasion of privacy,” you snapped at her. “Besides,” you continued on. “I don’t even know who his ex is. And aren’t priests supposed to be pure?”

“Well, this isn’t the Middle Ages. Maybe he’s not a virgin? Maybe he even has tattoos. You know, I met a priest that had tattoos once. Oh, he was wonderful.” Darcy’s suggestion did not fall on deaf ears.

“Still not checking his dick out. That’s gross. Besides, don’t you remember the sex tape that got leaked of that one celebrity in the West? I’m sorry, but I’m not looking forward to seeing myself on every porn site known to man while the priest is balls deep in my kitty, okay? No thanks.”

Your response made her cackle. It made Darcy sob with tears.

“I knew I taught you well. How’s your lady garden doing? Is it doing okay? Still going through a dry spell?” Darcy teased you. Your cheeks flushed, once again. “How can my lady garden be going through a dry spell when I haven’t even had a dick inside of me yet,” your grumble made Darcy laugh again. Reaching a street, you stood with people who were waiting for the stoplight to signal for walking. Now having a few minutes to yourself, you indulged in talking to your friend.

“I should take you out to a club. A strip club. You need to pop that cherry girl.” Darcy giggled as the crosswalk signal shone. Moving along with the crowd, you continued to talk.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’ve been trying to do this since we got into college. I’m twenty-five, not fifteen.” Your scathing remark made Darcy roll her eyes from where she was sitting, at her desk, at work.

“I’m just saying, it could be good for you. I know why you don’t go to church. I will spit on Joseph’s grave for you when I go and see my mom.” Darcy promised.

Just the reminder of the former President made you feel ill.

When you had been a teenager, still on the cusp of your teen years, you had still gone to church with your mother. Your parents had divorced when you had been young, and your dad had remarried to a nice lady who you considered another mother. You had three other half-siblings. However, your mother had not remarried. It had just been the two of you. And when you still attended church, a new priest had been put in.

Even now, as you walked down the street, coincidentally where the Church was, you couldn’t help but stop and stare. Tourists were there, taking pictures. Gushing over it. Talking about how gorgeous it looked.

Just looking at it made you feel sick. Because yes, you agreed, the church was beautiful. It was even more beautiful on the inside. You would know. You had gone inside there for years, once upon a time.

But now?

Now?

You weren’t stepping foot in it.

The priest had been there when you had gone had preyed on your best friend. She hadn’t been the only one. Many other girls had come forward, saying that they had also been targeted. At first, the church had dismissed the claims. Saying that it was absurd, that there was no way that the priest could have messed with young girls because A, he was married, B, he was a Holy Man, and C, because he deflected and said that the girls had come onto him.

… Until he had slipped up with C, saying that how could he have said no? That they were just too darn convincing. He had fallen into sin.

At the remembrance of those events, you couldn’t help but feel the bile beginning to rise up to your throat. You had worked at the altar. You had been in close proximity with the former Bishop.

If it hadn’t been your friend, it could have been you.

It was why when after you had graduated high school, that you had told your mother point-blank that you were no longer going to church. That you just couldn’t.

Being your mother, she had tossed you out of the house. With nowhere to go, you had accepted Darcy’s invitation to stay in her home. Throughout your college years, you lived with her family. Working odd jobs to earn money. All the while working to gain your BFA. Or. Bachelor of Fine Arts. You had majored in Opera, although you did belt out musical theatre tunes as well. You were very fun at karaoke nights.

“… Yeah… I don’t know if I can… go…”

Your words were a little strangled together. Checking the time on your phone, you began to internally panic.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

If you didn’t hurry up now, you’d be late.

“Hey- listen, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later?” You were speeding the hell outta there, jogging down the street, in order to catch the streetlight. You stopped to catch your breath, as the light hadn’t flashed yet.

Phew.

You were saved.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you during your lunch break.” Darcy’s mood was still chipper as ever. Grabbing your AirPods from within your purse, you took them out of the case and slipped them on, connecting them to your phone.

“Kay. Bye.”

Just as the stoplight glowed, your music started to play.

And then, you were just another person in the crowd, going to work in the city that you loved.

That same day, in the afternoon, with Bucky…

“Excuse me, Father? Do you need anything else?”

Makkari, his deaf assistant at the front desk, looked at him.

James Buchanan Barnes, the current Priest of the Church quickly signed back to her.

“No, that’ll be all, Makkari. Thank you.” Signing back her thanks, Makkari walked out of his office and back down the hall to where the front desk was.

Leaning back into his chair at his desk, James took in a deep breath. His hand ran down his face, all the way down to his jaw. His jaw clenched.

After the past President had passed away due to a heart attack, and Steve's unfortunate father had been placed into the ground, the previous priest had been stripped of his position. James’s jaw continued to clench as he remembered.

He had not spared the man.

And why would he? After what the man had done to those teenage girls? It was disgusting, was what it was. A disgrace.

James hadn’t told Steve.

Steve would have never needed to know the measures he had taken to make sure the previous priest had just remembered what the consequences were when you messed with teenage girls.

At the ripe age of thirty-five, the first five years of serving the church as a priest, James had made sure everything was in order. That the mistakes of the past priest would not continue. He made sure to keep his boundaries. He made sure to treat everyone with respect.

He had joined the church as a priest at the age of twenty-three and had gotten his doctorate when he was twenty-nine. Very young. He had been the youngest man to be made the priest when he had been thirty. He served his country and his people. Not like Steve whereas he would have been President, but he made sure that the church was running. That everything was in order, and that everyone was behaving.

But now… he felt like something was missing.

James had taken a vow of celibacy. He refrained from sexual relations. But he wasn’t a virgin. He had popped his cherry a long time ago. If any word had gotten out that the priest had gone into sexual relations, well, that might have made a much bigger splash than the sex tape scandal that had leaked the Internet of that one American celebrity. James might as well just have lost his job. He might as well as have kissed his robes goodbye.

A deep sigh left the man.

He had sworn an oath, a vow to the church. He would upkeep that promise. But he missed it. Coming home to someone in his bed. James grabbed the whiskey and poured himself some. It was in the middle of the afternoon. No one would care or notice. Taking a gulp, he put his glass down.

His phone vibrated in his pants. Getting it out of his pocket, he quickly checked the notifications.

And then a text showed on his screen.

It was from Natalia.

are u coming to the opera tnite? Steve’s gonna show up with his fiancee

Typing back to Natasha, he saw that she was still typing

you don’t go outside Yasha

you need to go outside

your life is so boring

Rolling his eyes in fondest, James began to type back.

I’m not boring, Natalia. I’m an introvert. I don’t go outside because I don’t like crowds. It’s why I joined the church.

Three grey bubbles popped up from Natasha.

oh yes

im sorry oh righteous one

Go back to work, Natalia. I’ll see you later at the opera.

James imagined Natasha laughing at him when she gave him a thumbs up. Shutting his phone off and putting it in his desk and sliding the drawer shut, he leaned back into his chair and dragged his hand down his face, clenching his jaw.

His thoughts drifted back.

To that headspace he never thought he’d ever find himself in ever again.

Those deep, dark thoughts of just wanting more.

He wanted sex. Granted, James wasn’t a virgin. But he did refrain from sexual touching. But he was a sexual creature. He still masturbated, at the very least.

But he just couldn’t get sex. His fist just wasn’t covering it. It just wasn’t. James wanted to scream.

There was a little part of him though. That part of him that was whispering to him that he had taken a vow of celibacy. That he was a holy man.

It was that part of him that he fought with.

He might as well just have said goodbye to his entire fucking career at this point.

Just as he was about to lose himself in his thoughts even further, a knock at the door caught his attention.

“Father?”

James exhaled.

“Yes?”

It was going to be a long day.

Later that afternoon, with you…

“What do you mean, she can’t go on?”

You sat in Alexei Romanov’s office, perplexed.

You couldn’t believe this.

Alexei Romanov, the current owner of the Bolshoi Opera House, just looked at you as you sat in his office.

His Russian accent was thick as he spoke. “Hope got sick. You are her understudy. Therefore, you will take her place tonight.”

Tonight was the first showing of Faust. Your hands gripped the desk in anxiousness.

Noticing your sudden distress, Alexei put his hands over yours. “Don’t fret, little one. I did not make you understudy just for you to fail. You are good. Good enough to be Hope’s understudy. And no one judges my wisdom, eh?”

You shook your head no.

Alexei chose the cast members with deliberation and carefulness. Even though his own two adopted daughters, Natalia and Yelena were in the ballet corps as ballet rats, and even though Natalia was the Prima Ballerina, she didn’t get there just because of her mother’s favoritism. Her mother, Melina Vostokoff-Romanov, the ballet mistress, trained her daughters and the rest of the ballet rats day and night. They all lived in the ballet girl dorms. You had too, once upon a time. Before you had been moved up to the chorus, and now, as the understudy to the Prima Donna of the opera house.

“You will do just fine, little one. Don’t worry too much, huh?”

Swallowing the thick lump in your throat, you gave him, (or at least tried to), a confident nod.

It was later, during a rehearsal break that you got approached by Natalia and Yelena.

The three of you sat down, eating your lunch. Yelena cooed over Star howling. “She has great lungs,” the blonde-haired young woman remarked as she patted her tutu, “If there was a dog opera, she’d be the main star.”

You snickered. Natalia just looked amused as she took a bite of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“Do you miss being in the ballet corps?” Yelena wondered to you. You pursed your lips as you took a nice gulp of your lemon and ginger tea, with the slightest bit of honey. You often carried your hydro flask of ginger and lemon tea for your throat. Feeling the warm liquid go down your throat, you spoke in a low voice.

“Sometimes,” you replied back to her. “Sometimes, I still dance before going onstage. It helps stretch out my legs, you know. I still do my stretches.”

Both Natalia and Yelena nodded in unison. In seriousness, of course. Stretching was always important in their line of work. They were flexible than a football player. Or what America perceived as football anyway. The three of you heard down the grapevine that America referred to what you would call football “soccer.”

Which was weird in all honesty in itself.

But then again, America itself was a weird place. You had a friend who was a chorus member in the Metropolitan Opera House in New York City. She often spoke about Americans referring to things that you would normally call a jumper a sweater.

America was truly odd.

“Good,” Natalia hummed. “Are you excited for the first show tonight?” She asked you curiously. You took another gulp of your tea as you gently put your hydro flask down on the table in your dressing room. Your dressing room was a tad bit smaller than the leads. But, it still held a couch, a TV that was propped up on the wall, your vanity where you had all of your stage makeup stashed, a mini-fridge, a microwave, and a table where you kept all of your tea bags and your kettle plugged into the power outlet.

From where you were, sitting on your vanity, you looked at Natalia who was sitting on your couch while Yelena had found your TV remote, and was watching some Russian soap opera.

“Your father said that since Hope couldn’t make it tonight, that I’m taking her place.”

Yelena gasped out loud.

“Oh!” She exclaimed happily, “How exciting! Are you excited?” She asked you giddy.

You swallowed that huge lump in your throat. Just like how you had done in Alexei’s office.

“I don’t… know.” Your voice had turned soft. “I’m… nervous. I know the part backwards and forwards, I… I know the blocking but… I’m terrified. I know that I’ll do fine but it’s just… I’m nervous. Everybody's going to be looking at me.”

Two-thousand, one-hundred, and fifty-three seats.

That was how many people were coming to see Faust tonight.

You couldn’t help with nervously fiddle with your thumbs. A nervous tick you had picked up as a child, whenever you got anxious before a show.

“You’ll be fine,” Natalia reassured you as she came to put her hands over yours. The redhead even had a reassuring look in her eyes.

“Come on. Deep breaths little Songbird.”

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

“-You know, Yasha’s coming tonight.” Yelena’s remark did not fly by Natalia. Removing her hands from yours, she turned to look at her younger sister. “Oh?” questioned Natalia, “So he said yes?’

Now.

You had no idea who this “Yasha” was, but whoever he was, he must have been very important, because Yelena gave Natalia a toothy grin as she replied back in Russian.

“Uh-huh. His schedule is all cleared for tonight and he secured a box. Box Five. You know that’s his signature spot,” Yelena giggled.

Natalia rolled her eyes.

“Yasha’s always been some what of a scamp,” Natalia remarked. Yelena just continued to giggle.

“Who’s Yasha?”

Yelena giggled once again.

“Don’t worry little Songbird,” Natalia reassured you again.

“You’ll find out who is soon enough.”

Later that evening, with James…

“Are you sure you’re going to come?”

James was at home, as his pet cat Alpine ran around the luxurious apartment, chasing her toy mouse around.

The white feline had been overjoyed when her daddy had come home. Alpine had greeted him at the door, meowing at him and pawing him for some much-needed head rubs and tummy tubs. And cuddles. Lots of cuddles. Then, she had retreated to her scratching post to scratch at it.

James had then got out of his vestments and into much comfier clothes. Now in his black jumper and a pair of sweats, the broad-shoulder man leveled his phone on his shoulder as he talked to Steve.

“Yeah, Steve,” James replied back in Russian as he grabbed his water bottle, uncapping it and taking a gulp.

Alpine pounced on her tiny mouse, shifting onto her back as she rolled around on the rug, playing with her toy happily.

James watched as Alpine played with her toy before he heard Steve speaking again.

“… You’re gonna take your usual box, aren’t you, jerk?” Steve’s teasing voice made James grumble underneath his breath. “Course I am, punk.” James huffed.

“So, I’ll meet you there, jerk?”

“Yeah, punk.”

Alpine yeeted her toy across the room. A painful meow escaped her as she huffed, getting on her hind legs. Getting into position to pounce on the little mouse toy, she kicked her hind legs back in a show of intimidation.

A deep hiss left her when she zeroed her gaze right on the purple toy. With a meow that sounded like a battle cry, she leaped across the room and tackled her toy.

James’s chuckles snapped her out of her train of thought. The purple mouse's tail hanging off of her teeth, Alpine stared at him dead in the eyes.

She watched as her daddy chuckled down at her, getting down onto her level to pet her head. Alpine meowed in content.

“I gotta go to the opera, alright Alpine?” James told his cat. “I’ll come back home and spoil you. We'll cuddle on the couch together. How’s that sound?”

Alpine meowed. James took that as a yes.

Her tail swished, as if to say, you’d better come home in one piece, dad.

When James got to the opera house, many people were already getting in their seats. James made his way up to his box and took his seat. He had changed out of his jumper and sweats, exchanging them for a nice black button-down shirt, a pair of his nicest black slacks, and his black dress shoes.

Because there was a dress code policy. Whenever you went to the opera or the theater, you did not wear a simple t-shirt or jeans. You needed to dress nice. It was the policy.

So, James sat in his chair, in his box, waiting for the show to begin. He even took his phone out of his pants and scrolled through the news as people made their way to their seats.

After a few minutes of aimlessly scrolling through his phone, he heard someone over the intercom speaking in Russian.

“Please silence all and any cell phones. The performance shall begin shortly.”

Shutting off his own phone, James pocketed his phone back into his pants.

A few minutes later, the curtains opened.

Revealing the aged scholar Faust. The actor playing the aged scholar began to sing and lament about how his studies had left him to nothing, that his studies had made him lose out on enjoying life and finding love.

James watched as the man onstage picked up his goblet, containing poison, using it so he could drink it to end his misery. Every time Faust tried to drink it however, a choir stopped him.

James had been watching.

But just then, he saw it.

The actress playing Marguerite appeared right there, on stage, singing. She was trying to convince him to accept Mephistopheles’s offer to exchange his soul for his services on Earth.

You were nervous. But, you were singing along, looking at the principal tenor Jimmy Woo, as your spinning wheel spun. He was giving you an encouraging look as you spun around, making eye contact with the principal bass Vision, or Vis, as everyone called him, who was playing Mephistopheles. His red and black makeup made you want to burst out a giggle, but you were a professional. Continuing to sing, you watched as Jimmy raised up his goblet and took a gulp of it, even though nothing was in there.

Hiding your smile, you and the chorus hit the crescendo note and vanished just as the now young scholar Faust and his strange companions set out into the world.

As the opera continued, James continued to watch you with rapt attention.

You were just… wonderful. James couldn’t quite put a pin in it, what made you so alluring to him. You happily moved along with the chorus and ballet rats, Marguerite joining Faust and the villagers in their waltz as Faust declared his admiration for her.

He watched as you modestly declined his arm, before being taken away by Natalia and Yelena, dressed in commoner's clothing, leading you towards Stage Right.

Act Two bled into Act Three as James watched the young man playing Siébel leaving a bouquet of flowers on Marguerite’s doorstep, while Mephistopheles urged Faust to buy Marguerite a present. When Mephistopheles put a box and a hand mirror next to Siébel’s flowers, James saw you come back.

You walked right back on stage, coming back Stage Left. You wandered around the stage, mimicking the blocking as you sang a sad ballad about the King of Thule, as Marguerite pondered over her encounter with Faust during the waltz with the villagers.

Vision’s wife Wanda, who was playing your neighbor Marthe, came out from Stage Right and spoke to you about how nice the jewels looked.

“Must be from an admirer,” Wanda teased to you as you opened the box, procuring the jewelry and sliding the prop onto your neck. Getting up and doing a spin, you giggled as the stage lights caught onto your jewelry.

As the orchestra moved into the Jewel Song, you happily danced around the stage and sang, pulling a giggling Wanda into your dance. Happily singing the aria while you danced on and about, you did a little spin, the jewelry caught the lights, making them shine.

James couldn’t stop watching as you happily spun around, your voice floating as you finished the aria.

As the audience clapped, Wanda pulled you back as the two of you giggled, before you were joined by Vision and Jimmy.

Leaning back into his seat, James Buchanan Barnes swallowed thickly. Watching as Natalia and Yelena led a couple of the ballet rats back on stage, he made eye contact with Natalia.

Having caught Yasha’s eye, Natalis didn’t nod, nor did she even wink at him.

It was a knowing look.

Natalia knew what he was thinking.

Two peas in a pod, one could say.

It had been that way ever since they had been growing up together in Moscow as little children when Winifred and George Barnes had met each other while Winifred had been a chorus ballerina and George had been in the orchestra as a Viola player. James knew the Bolshoi Opera House backwards and forwards. Every corridor, every underground corridor too. Even the underground sewers.

And, as Natalia steered you away, she saw you.

You had finally made eye contact with the priest in Box Five.

Prey always knew when they had been caught by their predator, after all.

“To the opening night of Faust!”

“To the opening night of Faust!” The entire company, including you, cheered as you did the toast.

More cheers sounded as all of you took a gulp of your vodka shots. Laughter and loud conversations soon filled the room as you began to walk around the huge room, where the after party was being held.

The after party was being held in the huge foyer, and after everyone had gotten out of their costumes and into the clothing that they were going to wear tonight, someone had popped open the vodka and champagne bottles and the party had officially gone into full swing. The cast and crew were all in the room, and you waved and greeted friends, colleagues, and patrons alike.

Natalia had given you one of her silver dresses. Even though you had protested at the idea. But, Natalia had won after she had convinced you that it would be fine and that she didn’t really need it anyway. So, clad in Natalia Romanov’s silver dress and a pair of matching silver heels, with your face painted and sculpted to the musical gods, you wandered around with a glass still full of champagne.

Just then, you felt it.

A shiver go up your spine.

“Yasha!” You heard Yelena shout from where she was. She was making her way towards you as the blonde dancer waved at someone, motioning them to follow her. You watched as she bounced towards you gracefully, even with the glass of champagne in her hands. She was almost like a fairy, gracefully bouncing your way towards you with a smile on her nude painted lips.

“Songbird!” Yelena greeted you cheerfully, “C’mon! I wanna introduce you to Yasha! Where’s Tash? Good Lord, is she talking to Barton again?” Yelena groaned as the two of you weaved through the crowd, heading towards whoever this “Yasha” person was.

“Yasha!”

Your heart immediately skipped a beat when you saw the “Yasha” person turn around.

Oh no.

No. No. No. No. No. No.

No.

It was-

It was the frigging Priest!

Jesus Christ on a frigging stick.

He was more attractive in person than you initially thought.

Google Images did not do him any justice.

That strong jaw. Those sharp cheekbones. And the beard. Oh, the beard. His shoulders were broad and they were making the nice black button-down shirt he was wearing look like his muscles were practically rippling through the fabric.

And… was that a tattoo you were seeing peeking out from the first two buttons of his shirt that were unbuttoned peeking out?

Yes… it was. You saw a smidge of the beginnings of his tattoo on his chest peeking out.

James’s shoulder length hair was tied back into a man bun, and you swore to yourself that you didn’t care much for men who had their hair in man buns, but at this moment?

Yeah.

You were feeling it.

At this very moment, you swore to yourself that you were so wet to the point where someone could easily drown a toddler in your panties.

And for a moment, you totally forgot that you were staring at the priest, practically ogling him like you were some lovesick teenager who just discovered that she had a crush on the most popular guy in school.

Until your brain had caught up with your heart and you were steered right back in your current reality.

Oh shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You had just been shamelessly ogling the priest.

Fuck!

Your mother, if she had still been in your life, would have not been very happy right now. She would have dragged you off by your ear and reprehended you for your selfish and reckless behavior.

“… Yasha! Here she is!” Yelena looked very cheerful as she introduced James to you, speaking your name.

The first thing you really noticed about him was his eyes.

Those eyes.

The way they captivated you, held you prisoner in his gaze. His eyes alone made your breath hitch in your throat, leaving you unable to speak.

James had rendered you completely speechless.

“Hello, little one.”

Fucking God.

His voice was just so... nope. It was husky and deep. You weren't about to divulge into deeper details. Who were you, EL James? Please. As if.

You thanked every lucky star in the universe that Yelena was still holding onto you. Because if she hadn’t, then you were sure you have collapsed right then and there on the floor like some dramatic bitch.

But, then again, that was your profession, so maybe, probably, people wouldn’t be all that surprised.

You hoped.

“Hello Father,” you managed to say with a tight smile on your face, “I hope you enjoyed our opening night. We’ve been slaving away at it. Aleksandr made us work our asses off.”

“He made the orchestra go through the waltz dance three times one night Yasha!” Yelena whined, suddenly remembering the hellscape that was Aleksandr Pierce’s harsh eye.

“And Melina made the ballet rats go through the waltz dance three times too because of that,” you added, now clearly amused as James saw you take a sip of your champagne.

You were hiding an amused smile behind your glass before you heard Yelena tell you she had spotted Helen, one of the other ballet rats. Bidding you a goodbye, she happily bounced off, her curled blonde hair bouncing behind her like waves.

James spoke again. Making you maintain that eye contact with him.

“I enjoyed the show very much. Your portrayal of Marguerite is… exquisite. You captured her perfectly. How long have you been at the opera house?” James inquired as he took a gulp of his water. Being a priest, he didn’t drink all that much.

Your tongue came out to dart your lips, to moisten them.

“Well… my mother enrolled me in ballet classes when I was three. And I’ve been taking singing lessons ever since I was four. After I got my degree a while ago, then I joined the opera house pretty quickly. So… I would like to say, a couple of years now. Four or five, at the very most.” Your response made him raise an eyebrow. Looking a little sheepish and possibly a little bit embarrassed as well, “I was in the ballet for a long time. My mother had the funds to enroll me in the ballet corps with Natalia and Yelena. Here. But I didn’t stay in the dorms because my mother didn’t want me to ‘mix up with that crowd’-” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes in annoyance at that. Even putting air quotes around the 'mix up with that crowd' part. James certainly noticed. He also noticed the way you gritted your teeth a little, gnashing them together.

He got the vibe that you were not very close to your mother.

So, therefore, he did not push it.

“… So, I suppose you can say I’ve grown up here. It’s my second home, really. I don’t think I’d rather be in a place but here. It feels like home.” you confessed.

James cracked a smile.

He was smiling!

Actually smiling!

You could not believe it.

“Are you quite fond of the arts then, Father?” you inquired of James as you gulped down the rest of your drink. As a waiter walked by you, they quietly took your empty glass away from you and asked if you would like another. Agreeing and thanking them, you got another glass of champagne.

“I am. I’m very close with Natalia and Yelena. We all grew up together. My parents used to work here. My mother was a part of the chorus and my father was a Viola player.”

“Oh?”

You were interested.

He had piqued your interest. Not that he hadn’t already, but this interested you about him even more.

“Yes.” James nodded vigorously. “They’re retired now, though I’m afraid.”

“You should bring them to see the show. We run for a couple of more months, Father. If they’re up for it, of course.”

You were smiling. The curves of your lips were up and your eyes were sparkling.

All of a sudden, someone called your name. Breaking your smile as you quickly whipped your head around, doing a whole one-eighty.

Natalia was making her way towards you and James.

“Oh! You met Yasha! It’s so good to see you, Yasha. But we have to go. Ladies' night tonight. We’re hitting up the club.” Natalia actually winked at him this time as she tugged on your arm, making you protest.

“Hey! I didn’t- I wasn’t aware of this!” You yelped as you were tugged away by Natalia, who was gleeful.

“Tash? Tasha? TASH! Hey! No, I wasn’t finished talking to- Tash!”

Your pleas followed the two of you as Natalia whisked you away, leaving James alone.

“Did you enjoy the opera tonight, James?”

That was Alexei.

The Romanov family, although they did go to church every Sunday and called him by his proper title, they did not do that whenever James visited their home during the holidays.

Turning to face the man he considered a father figure, James gave him a nod. “I found the actress playing Marguerite very enchanting, Alexei.”

“Oh yes. Our little Songbird. I adore her, just like every member of this Opera House. But her mother, very uptight woman if you ask me. Very religious as well. You might have seen her in church many times. You do remember the scandal with our old priest, Obadiah Stane, yes?”

Indeed.

James did indeed remember.

“Our little Songbird had left the church after the old priest had gotten stripped of his title. Her mother did not take that lightly and cast her out of her own home. She lived with her friend Darcy Lewis for a couple of years, if I remember correctly.” The two men watched as Natalia grabbed Yelena while you were practically sandwiched between the two of them.

“Do they still live together?” James asked him. Alexei shook his head no. “No, son. Darcy lives with her boyfriend. Loki Lauyferson, I believe? The old English man that came to live down here, expanding his business. His older brother is named Thor, I believe. Thor and their older sister Hela live in the UK.”

“Ah.”

James turned to Alexei. “Is there anything else you can tell me about her?” he asked politely. Alexei turned to him and clapped him on the back. Just like how the older man had done when James had been accepted in the church all the way back when.

You had just begun to make it towards the doors.

However, you couldn’t help but turn around, just to see if James was still there.

He was.

And James was looking straight at you.

Natalia asked you something, and suddenly, you were out of the doors and entered the chilly Russian air.

You were gone.

“… Much, yes. Come. We’ll speak in my office.”

Turning his gaze back to Alexei, James gave a firm nod.

That sounded good.

Very good.

Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44, @bxnnywriting, @hawsx3

#dark!priest!bucky #dark!priest!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years ago

Text

F’coffee

-.-.-.-.-.-

Honestly. What did Bruce even think would happen? He should have known better.

Tim wasn’t Dick, indoctrinated from a young age to be a good, somewhat (when convenient) obedient son. Tim only went along with Bruce’s shit because, more often than not, it aligned with what he himself wanted. He also wasn’t Damian, so easily manipulable when one knew which buttons to push. And he certainly wasn’t Jason, who would sink his own ship to kill the captain.

So, when Tim and Bruce fought, and his adopted father decided to pull the ‘you live under my roof and work in my company, so I’m the boss all the way through’ card, well…

Yeah. Tim wasn’t going to take that lying down. He had a childhood of zero authority figures to obey and an overabundance of sass, plus a complete lack of fucks to give.

It was bound to go down like this.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

And, well. Tim had money. Like, an absurd amount of money. Even before being adopted by playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, Tim had his own no small fortune stashed away, a couple of properties gathering dust, two trust funds and more antique cars that he knew what to do with. So he could just… burn through that money, or sell the cars, or make a living of renting the buildings he owned, and he would barely even scratch the surface of his deep wealth.

But it wasn’t about being able to live comfortably with minimum effort. Tim was trying to prove a point here. What point, fuck if he knew. But a point.

So here he was, on the other end of the wooden counter, a cute red cap falling over his eye as he looked dead into his friend’s eyes.

“Tim. Tim, you’re rich. Why are you working in a coffee shop?”

Seeing as Kon and Cassie were currently too busy being shocked, Tim shrugged and went back to cleaning the cup in his hands.

It was a plastic cup. It didn’t need cleaning, he could just toss it away. But it was his favorite plastic cup, and he was gonna save it as a family heirloom forever.

(The fact that the pretty customer from the morning shift had drawn cute little doodles all over it had nothing to do with it’s worth.)

“Teenage rebellion”, he finally said, carefully putting his treasure away.

“You are twenty.”

“Time is a social construct and I’m but a slinky falling down an endless flight of stairs.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Your face doesn’t make any sense. How is it so symmetrical? It defies nature.”

-.-.-.-.-.-

“What can I get for you?”

“I'll have a mocha caramel latte-chino, made with skim milk, no whipped cream.”

“Bart, no.”

“Please put that in a grande cup”

“I’m begging you, don’t do it.”

“But use the same amount of coffee that you'd put into a tall.”

“I’m warning you, you don’t want to do this.”

“That way there's about an inch of extra room on top.”

“I wish you had an extra inch so I could look straight into your eyes when I murder you.”

“To stir in my own nutmeg without spilling any coffee at all.”

“You’re dead to me. Also, I AM going to make you that drink and you WILL finish it or so help me God.”

“What do you want, Kon?”

“To not be here when Tim’s looking like he’s planning both our unsolved murders.”

-.-.-.-.-.-

When Kon entered the shop, the messenger bag slung over his shoulder bumping against his hip as he rushed in to get his caffeine intake before his evening classes, he wasn’t surprised at the scene.

Cassie being there was a given, since there was always at least one of them there at all times, supporting Tim in this ‘independence’ thing he was dead set on trying. Kon himself had his Tim Shift later that day, after his creative writing course. Bart had probably just left, considering the amount of empty cake platters littering the counter.

Tim being face down in said counter, uncaring about the mess, was also old news. The dude barely ever seemed to leave (Kon was almost completely sure he actually owned the place, since he’d never seen any sort of manager and Tim’s hours seemed to work around his weird sleep patterns all too perfectly), and distraught was his general state of being, so. Normal day as far as he could see.

Still, he had to ask. “What is it today?”

Cassie, eyes never leaving her magazine, chin resting in one hand as the other one scratched at Tim’s scalp, snorted.

“A cute boy started working in the tattoo place next door. He came in for a morning fix, when Tim was barely awake, and he said something stupid, so he’s been having an existencial crisis ever since.”

“I said ‘you too’, Kon. He said ‘thanks for the coffee, I’ll enjoy it!’ and I said ‘you too’. What is wrong with me?”

Kon snorts a little. Tim doesn’t seem to be very interested in doing his actual work, so he just jumps over the counter and starts working the machines himself.

“You know that’s a question you can only ask your therapist, Tim, but if you need to know, I’d say you’re highly sleep deprived and a dysfunctional bi?”

At that, Tim does turn to look at him. There’s some cake frosting clinging to his eyelashes, and his hair is a mess. It looks cute, to be completely honest, and Kon has to leave his unfinished latte on the side so he can hug the little shit.

“Aw, don’t pout, Timbo. I’m sure he thought you were cute. Just try to sleep a bit more tonight, so when he comes back tomorrow you’ll be a little more alert and won’t embarrass yourself.”

“What do you mean, when he comes back?”

“I mean, if he works next door, he’ll probably get his morning coffees here all the time, right?”

That seemed to drive Tim back into the distraught spiral. He smashed his head back into the counter, making dying whale noises until Cassie’s hand returned to his scalp.

Kon privately thinks Tim’s life is starting to sound like fanfiction. He wonders which type of background character he would be, in it.

-.-.-.-.-.-

The shop is called F’coffee. That’s why Cassie is convinced Tim is the actual owner; no one else would really think that’s a proper name for a serious establishment. Kon isn’t convinced all the way yet, but with Bart on her side and Tim staying silent on the subject, it is just a matter of time until she convinces him it’s totally okay for him to do his gym routine there. She thinks, with Tim being his own boss, no one would tell him to stop it, and it would help his friend’s business to bloom with new customers.

The place's general aesthetic is exactly what you would expect, with old wooden tables, comfy chairs, potted plants hanging from the walls and tall windows just a little bit stained. The smell is constantly of the strongest brew Tim has, Death Coffee (which he’s actually not legally allowed to sell, so he keeps it for himself), and just setting a foot in makes her feel instantly awake. It's also always warm, and the sweets on display look mouth watering no matter your personal preferences.

In short, it looks like something out of a movie. It’s a tad too perfect for her friend, but she thinks it also fits his obsessive need for perfection.

Except for the board. Oh, the board. Cassie loves it more than life itself.

Tim has divided the drinks in categories. And made up names for all of them.

“Yes, hello! I’d like to order a grande, iced, sugar-free vanilla Latte, with soy milk, but I can’t seem to find it in your menu…”

Tim’s dead eyes turn to Cassie for a second, before facing his customer again.

“You’re probably looking into the Normal People section”, he points out, before raising his hand to signal a bit to the left. “There you have the Pain In The Ass selection. There’s nothing just like you asked, but you have the It’s Britney Bitch beverage, which is almost exactly the same except I’ll add a middle finger drawing in the cup and charge you extra for emotional damages. Also, we’re out of soy milk.”

Or…

“Hey, good morning! I’d like to order…”

Tim raised a hand, stopping the chirpy, good looking young man dead in his tracks.

“Don’t tell me, I know what you need. I’ll just go ahead and prepare it.”

“But you don’t even know what I/”

“You’ll have a Cougar Bait. It has cacao cream, a strawberry pucker and some grenadine seeds. I think it's fitting, for you.”

And also…

“Hey, hum… Sorry, I just have to ask… what’s on the ‘Barista’s heart’ drink?”

“Cacao powder, almond milk and espresso. Also some organic coconut ash, that gives it the blacker-than-night color, that’s just a shade lighter than my soul.”

“...noted.”

Cassie snorts into her cup of Jack it up (coffee that tastes just like a Jack Daniel’s; having Tim working here has opened up her eyes to the possibilities), watching as Tim makes his own usual.

“What’s in that one?” She asks, out of curiosity, when she’s sure there’s no other customer close by.

“Six espresso shots.”

She waits for a second. Tim finishes the drink, carefully handling the dark liquid inside his favorite plastic cup.

“...okay, and?”

“And that 's it.”

“Tim, that-- that would kill you?”

“Duh. Why did you think it was called The Last Sip?”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

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dracoladon · 4 years ago

Note

oh my god I absolutely ADORED lucid and born slippy, so the chance to prompt you with something is so so exciting!! as always, no pressure, but how about something about undressing each other? i've always LOVED the unlacing/undressing tropes in capri, and I bet it would be incredible applied to some lovely drarry. do with this what you wish!!!

sidjdjfnndkff thank you, and thank u again for this ungodly prompt. if there’s three things i love, they’re captive prince, drarry, and soft smutty tropes such as the one u hath so kindly bestowed upon me.

i accidentally made a fair few lucid references in here (prizes for all who can spot them, the prize is a poem about u as composed by me) so i suppose, if you’ve read that one and so wish, u can consider this part of the same universe. or smth ://

maybe i’m just hideously unimaginative when it comes to topics for my banter. anywho

rated e, 1732 words.

The thing about Draco’s work robes, is that they’re buttoned all the way up to the throat. Which, hm, doesn’t sound like an issue in and of itself. But becomes one, of sorts, when Harry is overcome by the need to unbutton them every time he lays eyes on pale, elegant throat, the column of it under stiff black fabric.

The thing is, that Draco looks so austere, so tightly laced, and the thing. Is. That Harry just wants to unlace him.

Draco is, of course, not austere. He’s in fact very, erm, flexible. Pliant. He told Harry once, when they first starting fucking, that his body reformed around Harry’s, and he liked the way he went malleable in Harry’s hands.

“I can’t do that with anyone else,” Draco said. Then frowned. “That didn’t make much sense.”

But the buttons. The buttons. The high-necked buttons. They give Draco a look of frigidity, that he’s not to be spoken to, touched (all in a very sexy, aristocratic kind of way, of course), and it’s so bloody hot that Harry’s taken to banishing his glasses and burying his head under a pillow when Draco dresses in the mornings, just to stop himself getting so hard he goes properly blind with it.

Draco asked him, the third time he burrowed under the bedclothes like a “demented ferret” (glass houses, Harry said), what he was doing.

“The buttons,” Harry murmured. “Want to undo them.”

“The buttons?”

“The buttons.”

“You sick, kinky twist, Harry Potter.”

Harry unearthed himself, at that. “Shut up? It’s not about the buttons, you horror. It’s about what’s underneath the buttons.”

“How touching.”

And then more teasing, and Harry had it up to here and said, “I’ll burrow again.”

So Draco sat next to him on the bed, robes all secured, and said, softly, but still smiling like a git, “Tell me, love. Why the buttons?”

“You’re just—they’re, you know. So—God,” and then Harry had reached out and rent the sides of Draco’s robes apart, the little cloth covered studs clattering over his polished walnut floors, and pulled Draco down on top of him, and fucked him right there until Draco was late for work, and later still because they’d had to spend half an hour charming the wretched things back into place.

Now, Draco says, “the buttons are still wonky from that little stunt you pulled.”

Harry can see only Draco’s legs (crossed over each other on the couch, back flat on the ground, because Draco feels it centres him to drape upended from the furniture at the end of a long day) from where he’s decanting the wine in the kitchen. “I’ve always been pants at tailoring charms.”

“Was that a pun?” says Draco, sounding pained. “I’m leaving you, if that was a pun.”

“But then who will do your bidding? Aerate your wine, iron your silk pants—”

“I’ll get a house elf.”

“—not finished, suck your brains out your cock, make you pasta with butter and cheese when it’s cold and you’re in a mood—”

“I’ll get a gigolo, too.”

“I still wasn’t finished,” Harry says, and Levitates the wine into the living room in front of him.

Draco says, “did you get the right glasses, this time?”

“You’re very funny,” Harry says, because after months of trying to educate Harry, Draco has finally accepted that his one true love is cheap beer, and sorted all the wine glasses he keeps at Harry’s flat into labelled little boxes. (‘This is a coupe, Potter. If you bring me red wine in it again, I’ll throw it at you.’ ‘These are for dessert wine — after dinner, before a good hard boffing.’)

“Why don’t you just go snag one of those fucking — sommiliars.”

“Sommelier.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, happy because Draco’s wearing his work robes and speaking French and looking all twisty, and it’s Friday night, and there’s wine and music from the record Draco put on, and Harry gets to untwist him.

“Did you know,” Draco says, arching his back into a luxurious stretch before rearranging himself right side up and plucking a glass from the air, “that Amantea is starting her own firm.”

“God. Really?”

“Quite. It’s a pro bono thing, evidently. You know she’s been on the exec’s for months about how they direct all their mandatory hours towards corporations, not, you know, people who actually can’t afford legal counsel.”

“‘Course.” Harry distinctly remembers being cornered by Amantea when Draco brought him along to last year's Christmas drinks — he was a decent few in, and Draco kept palming at him through his formal robes when no one was looking, and he thinks he may have agreed to some kind of public crusade in the name of her cause that he doesn’t remember the details of to this day.

“Merlin, that’s incredible. She’s just quit, then? Starting it from the ground up?”

Draco nods, sips his wine. “She asked me to come with her. Ford, too.” And then, into his glass, “Said yes.”

Harry chokes, and Draco smirks at him behind the rim while he expires into his Pinot. “Bastard,” Harry coughs.

“Mm,” Draco hums.

“That’s—fuck, hang on—that’s great, love. Draco, it’s brilliant.”

“Really?” Draco says, tangling his fingers in Harry’s. He can see now that he’s doing that Very Draco Thing where his eyes go a bit too wide and his tongue keeps darting out to wet his bottom lip. “Cause I haven’t quit yet.”

“Of course. I think it’s really, really incredible.”

Draco rolls his eyes, but his cheeks flush pink. “Any more of that, and I won’t go near your cock for a week.”

“I’m proud of you,” Harry says, smiling.

“Two weeks.”

He leans on his haunches, hooks a blond tendril behind Draco’s ear. “I’m so proud of you, Draco. Everything you are.”

“A month. A year! Harry,” Draco complains.

Harry snorts. Sits back. “Fine. So would you still be doing all the same work?”

Draco nods. “I’d still be a defence counsel. I’d just be, you know. Not getting paid. At least, not for a while.”

“Good,” Harry says. “We’ve got a horrific amount of money, between the two of us.”

“I’m glad you think so, because we’ll be living off your salary alone. What’s the going rate for darling of the Wizarding world?”

Harry walks his fingers over Draco’s knee, daubed in the heavy black wool of his robes. “Several million a year darling. Are you excited, then?”

Draco shuffles around so he can rest his back against the couch, keeping Harry’s palm pressed to his knee with his own hand as he moves. “Yes. Very. I love my job, but the fees they charge our time at are outrageous. I was always thinking, Mother and I wouldn’t have been able to afford that right after the war. Had we even been allowed a solicitor, but don’t get me bloody started.”

Harry thinks that’s Draco down to his bones. He gives cold little glares to people he doesn’t want to talk to, and shrinks in on himself like a turtle whenever Molly tries to hug him at Sunday lunch, and he’s selfish about stupid things, like letting Ron have the last of his chips at pub night.

And then he does things like drop lunch by Hermione’s office when he has afternoon meetings with the Wizengamot, or quit the job he loves so much, where he’s finally respected and secure, to work for free with Scary Amantea because he actually cares about the abysmal state of the Wizarding justice system, or rent out an entire Muggle theme park for Harry’s birthday, because he’d said, off handed, one night in Draco’s arms, that he’d always been left behind when the Dursley’s took Dudley as a child.

“You’re so nice,” Harry says.

Draco frowns. “Take it back.”

Harry says, “Won’t,” and gives him a good, slow kiss that tastes like wine. Wine from a proper glass.

“I have bad news, too,” Draco says into Harry’s lips.

Harry can’t think of how anything could be bad, wrong, when Draco’s mouth is so soft and so close, but he murmurs, “What,” anyway.

“No dress code, at the new firm.”

Harry pulls back, stricken. “No more buttons?”

“Less regular buttons,” Draco amends, and Harry places a protective hand over Draco’s clavicles.

“This is completely tragic,” Harry says.

“Dare I say, Potter, you’ll just have to make the most of them. While you can.”

Harry nods, leans down again, a hand either side of Draco’s hips, and kisses him again.

When he pulls back, it’s so he can get his hands on the reeling column of buttons that runs from Draco’s navel to his Adam’s apple.

There was a certain carnal appeal in tearing them off him that first time, but now Harry likes this. His hands on Draco, his mouth following. Pushing the silken studs through the loops, undressing Draco inch by milk white inch.

“Yes,” Draco says, as Harry licks and nips his way down every bit of skin he exposes. When Draco swallows, Harry feels the movement of it roll beneath his palm. When Draco’s legs fall open, Harry mouths at his hip bone as it shifts under his tongue.

Harry disrobes himself with slightly less worshipping finesse. Pushes the tailored cloth off Draco’s shoulders, helps him arrange himself underneath Harry, ankles clasped lazily at his back. Fucks him slow, and sweet, and two more times.

Really, Harry doesn’t know why the robes do it for him so utterly and completely. They look kind of like the type of thing a vicar would wear, which is also what Harry remembers thinking when he saw Draco in his dress robes at the Yule Ball (although now it’s more a very rich, very sleek sort of vicar vibe, and less of the fusty, I-took-a-celibacy-oath-at-thirteen-and-am- now-seventy-two thing he had going back then. With all the velvet. Draco looks much better in silk. Anyway.)

On that, it’s probably because it’s a reminder that it’s Malfoy who he’s with. Malfoy, not Death Eater, tormentor, but pale limbs, plush, pink mouth and naked vulnerability before him. It’s how far they’ve both come, and how Draco presents himself to the world — so far away from what Harry gets to see. What’s Harry’s. What’s theirs.

“Also,” Draco says, when Harry tells him this in bed that night, “I look positively indecent in black.”

#my writing #answered #theestarryknight #prompts #drarry

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asktheheirofslytherin · 3 years ago

Note

I was talking to ine of my friends, and we were talking about the weirdest, out there, batshit crazy fanfics we've ever read. So I'm going to subject you to the memory I had locked away that was recently drugged up from the bottom of the ocean that is my middle school memories.

This was a fanfiction that was a Harry Potter/Jurassic Park crossover. During the Department of Mysteries battle, Harry Potter had grabbed Bellatrix's foot, and she panic apparated onto Isla Sorna. This was after the fall of the park, so everything was all overgrown and shit. They were walking around and Harry was trying to explain Dinosaurs to Bella, and she was like (exact quote) "I'm not fucking stupid Potter I know what a fucking Dinosaur is... but do continue". Eventually they get to talking about how to escape because I guess Bella couldn't apparate them back? Well the solution was to build a raft. So they were talking about how to get all that working, and Bella was like "ok, but what the fuck are we going to eat while we float around in the mother fucking ocean???" (She said fuck a LOT in this fic). Well, I shit you not, the solution Harry thought of was that he could get her pregnant, and they could drink her breast milk to survive. Yes, her breast milk. The fic ended there, it was never finished, and I haven't been able to find it since. Now you get to have this live rent free in your head for the rest of time. You're welcome.

Someone obliviate me.

#voldemort #oh no #i think ive read this fic #i was getting SERIOUS deja vu when reading this #lmaoooo #fanfic #bellatrix #mind bleach #prescheduled volding

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years ago

Text

Blood in the water Part 2

Pairing: merman!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, non-consensual drug use, brief mention of breeding, minor depiction of violence.

Words: 3496.

Part 1

___________________

He started singing again, and you turned on Slipknot to the full volume, carefully slipping on your noise-canceling headphones you ordered not so long ago. They were really a blessing, but even with them and all the noise surrounding you Steve’s voice still rang inside your head.

He had a beautiful voice, the one people would call heavenly, but his intentions were far from angelic: the first night you heard Steve singing to you, you had almost went to the beach where he was waiting his prey, charmed by his divine voice. Forgetting about the danger, you floated like a cloud to him, only half-awake and clearly unaware of your actions. The only thing that saved you that night was a sharp rock you stepped on, cutting your foot, blood coloring the cold ground as you broke free from Steve’s charms. When you ran home, covering your ears and singing loudly to yourself to silence his voice, the merman let out an unnatural, frightening growl behind your back.

Then Steve started doing it every night, serenading you by moonlight. It could be romantic if only the merman didn’t try drowning you in the sea, determined to make you “his mate”. Worse, with each passing day the mark he left on your neck was becoming more and more painful and itchy, and sometimes you were waking up with deep scratches left by your own nails.

The villagers couldn’t do much about it, despite being deeply ashamed of their inability to tell you about the merfolk - you realized they had been under some curse as every time they tried talking to you about Steve they were simply losing their voices. Of course, it all made sense now.

They helped you taking care of the wound, but from all the words they couldn’t say you understood you wouldn’t get rid of the mark easily. Thankfully, it stopped bleeding, but the nasty scar left by Steve’s sharp teeth had still been there. Well, you could live with it, you supposed, if only you leave this forsaken place.

When you got on the first bus, you had fainted in the middle of the trip for no damn reason. You looked so bad with you eyes rolling back into your skull, your body shaking uncontrollably, the driver decided not to risk it and returned to the town immediately, leaving you in a hospital again. Strangely, you woke up with no pain whatsoever, fresh as a daisy. It was the curse the merman gifted you - you couldn’t be too far from him now, dragged back by the mark on your neck, and your only chance to stay alive was either staying with him or taking him with you.

Maybe you could get rid of the curse if you killed him, you weren’t sure. As far as you knew from locals, they didn’t manage to kill even one in the last several decades. You didn’t know whether you could, too. Even if you would get a chance to stab Steve, you hardly imagined murdering him. You just weren’t the type.

So, he kept singing in his attempt to draw you to the beach again, and you kept hiding in that little cottage you rented. Oh yes, you were also worried about the rent since the month you paid for was coming to an end, but locals just smiled at you sadly, shaking their heads. This was how merfolk was attracting new people to the town.

“But my friends and family will be searching for me.” You mumbled, covering your face with your hands. “I have a job, a life out there.”

“I’m sorry, sunny, but no one will be searching for you,” the doctor said, giving you a salve for your mark - it was easing the itchiness. “You don’t know the merfolk. They'd stop at nothing to keep their mates close.”

“But why, for God’s sake?” You growled helplessly, unable to face the man and staring at your shoes instead.

“Reproduction, sunny. Mermaids aren’t as fertile anymore, and they are facing extinction.” He shrugged.

“And how is it supposed to work? Human with a merman?”

The doctor patted your shoulder apologetically, shaking his head. ‘I can’t tell you, dear. I... I physically can’t.”

You knew what he was talking about and couldn’t be angry at him. These people couldn’t do much, forced to protect their loved ones and living in constant fear of being abducted by the vile creatures living deep in the sea. Most of the time merfolk didn’t come to the town openly, and that’s why those women were so upset you lived far away, completely defenseless. But they couldn’t open up to you, revealing merfolk’s secret, and now Steve kept you on the hook.

Groaning when the sunlight crept in through the curtains, you rubbed your eyes and slowly got up, taking the headphones away and touching your ears. God, it hurt so much, but it was the only way for you to sleep at least for a few hours while Steve kept singing outside.

Oddly, you couldn’t hear the sound of the music as if someone turned it off, and you immediately went to your laptop to check. Shit, you forgot to plug it in. Thank goodness Steve stopped singing before your laptop turned off.

Sighing, you went to the bathroom, opening the tap and splashing some water into your face to wake up. It was barely six, but the sun was shining brightly, giving you no chance to go to sleep - you had always been up with the sun regardless of your circumstances. Now it was one more of your curses, considering you barely slept.

Watching your reflection in the mirror, you chuckled sarcastically, touching your bottom eyelid - you looked like you just came back from the dead. Would Steve be willing to let you go once he realized you’re no more the sweet beautiful lady he met? What a fucking bastard.

Feeling nauseated, you rubbed your face and went to the kitchen, reheating yesterday’s coffee. You had no strength to make yourself breakfast, even the simplest one.

Next minute you were wrapping the blanket around yourself and heading out of the house with a mug in your hand, eager to watch the sunrise. You weren’t afraid of Steve since you had never even once spotted him on the beach in the daylight. Besides, you kept a little knife in a pocket of your pants in case you needed to cut yourself and become free from his charms.

You still questioned yourself what were going to do next. Even if your parents and friends would forget you because of the curse affecting them somehow, you still remembered them. You wanted your life back. You wanted to sleep at night, unafraid of being snatched away by someone hiding in the dark. You wanted to wake up, knowing you are safe, and go to work, have one more simple day, then returning back home. You didn’t ask for much.

Well, you would have to figure out how to live in this small town all by yourself, find a new source of income and pretend like no scary mythical creature lingered behind your back. Maybe you would have to ask doctor to make you deaf. It should help with the singing.

Suddenly, you saw a huge figure rising from behind a rock not very far from you. You froze on the spot, looking at Steve walking carefully on the beach. Despite wearing something reminding you of a torn human sweater, he was naked below the waistline, and you blinked, looking at his soft cock dangling in between his legs.

Legs. Steve had a pair of strong, muscled human legs.

For a second you forgot how to breathe, watching him coming closer to you, his movements a bit unsteady and slow. You became rooted to the ground where you stood, unable to turn away and run from the monster too human to your liking. Was it his magic again? Was it you who couldn’t keep running anymore?

Biting your lips painfully, you felt tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Steve was wearing your sweater, albeit badly stretched out and torn in a few places - he was so much bigger than you it was a miracle he had somehow managed to put it on. You suddenly remembered how you were searching for this sweater a week or two ago, thinking you had forgot it somewhere in the cottage. How and where did Steve find it? Was he always able to walk? If so, why didn’t he take you away?

Well, maybe that’s what he was going to do now.

Finally finding some strength, you turned back to your cottage, eager to get away as far as possible from him, but then heard Steve’s angry, raspy voice, “Stay where you are!”

And you stood, moving back to face him and unable to do anything at all but watch.

Steve looked as tired as you are: you saw the bags under his eyes, his full lips cracked, his expression exhausted as if your resistance was straining him. Wasn’t he supposed to be an invincible immortal being wandering the sea? He looked so much more human now you weren’t even sure anymore.

“You want my throat to bleed, don’t you?” He grunted in a hoarse voice, wincing when he spoke, and you realized he lost his voice after signing night after night to you. “I am doing my best for you, and you just turn on that horrible, distasteful music every night!”

You smirked - how dare was he to call Slipknot’s best songs “distasteful music”?

“This shouldn’t happen this way. You’re ruining it.” Steve continued to grumble as he kept coming closer and closer, and, oddly, you found out you weren’t as scared of him anymore as you were in that faithful night.

“Ruining what?” You asked, sipping your still warm coffee when he approached you, wet and angry.

“The courtship!” The man exclaimed, breathing heavily - it seemed walking on his human legs was talking a toll on him. “You had to come to me, you stubborn woman! And what are you making me do? Come to you instead?”

He coughed, squeezing his eyes shut and touching his neck. It had to be really painful for him to talk.

Despite how wicked he was and how badly you wanted him to have a taste of his own medicine, you almost felt pity for your merman, handing him your mug when he stopped close to you.

“What is this? Coffee?”

“With milk. Good for your throat.” You replied, acknowledging he knew of human drinks.

Gazing at you skeptically, Steve sniffed your mug and then took it in his arms, glancing at the liquid inside. “It’s hot.”

“It’s warm. You won’t burn your tongue.” You said, taking the blanket off your shoulder and wrapping it around his hips - seriously, you felt too awkward to stand near a man dressed in just a little stretched-out sweater.

“You and you fear of nudity, humans.” Steve grunted, but sipped the coffee, nonetheless, quickly getting used to it and finishing your mug. “Oh, this one isn’t bad. I tried espresso, but it was so bitter I couldn’t have the whole cup.”

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around your own body and looking at the merman. What was he going to do now? He didn’t look vile, probably not as angry and upset as before, but who knew what he had in mind.

“So what? Are we going to stay here in the cold or you will bring me to your house?” Steve asked snappish while you snorted at him.

“Really? I thought your plan was to drown me in the sea, not bask in the warmth of my bed.”

He grinned, pressing your mug to his impressive chest.

“Why would I drown you, silly woman? Come on, it’s cold out here in the morning. I want to stay at your place.”

He took your hand in his, and you finally moved from your spot as if Steve allowed you. Making sure the blanket was wrapped tightly around him, you went to your house, thinking of the knife in a pocket of your pants. If he was planning to attack you, you could definitely stab him through your thin sweater or cut his throat. It would require some skill, though.

Entering the little hallway, Steve looked at the ceiling and winced from the mirror hanging on the wall, looking at his reflection. Shaking his head disapprovingly, he reached out to touch his swollen bottom eyelid.

“I thought merfolk aren’t afraid of cold.” You said, entering the kitchen and emptying the coffee pot.

“Not in this pathetic human body.” Steve entered after you, rubbing his arm in your completely wet sweater.

“Then you have to take this off and-”

“What? NO!”

He jumped away from you and stayed in the corner like a kid hiding something from his mother. You rolled your eyes.

“Although this is MY sweater, I’m not going to take it from you. I just want to dry it, alright?” You ensured, coming closer. “You’re not going to get warm if you keep it on.”

“This is my sweater.” Steve grumbled, but took it off, regardless, and handed a miserable, partly discolored piece of fabric to you to let you hang it close to the heater, watching you intently - did he really think you’d ran away with your sweater?

When you turned to face him, your blanket wasn’t secured on his hips anymore, and you stared at his naked member again, your face growing terribly hot from the sight. What was that merman thinking? Was he flaunting his.. physique in front of you? You knew of some animals doing that to attract their mates.

“For goodness sake, cover yourself.” You huffed, taking a pack of milk from the fridge. “You don’t want this thing to freeze in the open, do you?”

“Wait, it can freeze if I don’t cover it?” His eyes shot open. “You mean I won’t be able to have children anymore?”

“Yes, this is exactly what I mean.” Oh damn, it was terribly hard not to laugh as you watched Steve looking at you in horror and hurriedly wrapping the blanket around himself as much as he could. It was hilarious.

Putting two cups of milk into the microwave, you hit the button and pulled out some butter from the fridge to put into the cup once milk would be ready. You certainly didn’t need this hissing little mermaid who lost his voice because he sang too many serenades to you.

“So, what about the courtship?” You asked, stirring melted butter in Steve’s cup as he waited for you, sitting on a chair near the table. “How do you even imagine making babies with me?”

“You don’t know?” He looked at you innocently. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m a pro at that. I’m sure you will enjoy the process.”

“For God’s sake, Steve.” You groaned, placing a cup in front of him and taking yours. “Don’t play stupid here. I can’t live underwater. I can’t even fucking swim!”

“I’m not asking you to.” He shrugged and took his milk, ensuring it wasn’t burning hot before making a sip. “Though you won’t die underwater now. Believe it or not, you can actually breathe there because of my mark.”

You touched the scar, rubbing it with your fingers furiously and narrowing your eyes at the merman who, apparently, seemed very happy to see his mark on your skin. Once he reminded you of this thing, you were ready to snap at him.

“Do you even know how much this thing hurt?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

“This is because you refused to come to me,” he cocked his head to the side, watching you growing angry. “I only need to kiss it to make you feel better. Don’t look at me like that! It’s true, let me show you.”

You stepped backwards immediately as he advanced upon you, caging you with his large body, pressing you to the kitchen counter, his skin cold. Pushing your hands against Steve, you tried to keep him away, but he was so much stronger than you that you almost ended up with your face buried in his chest.

“What the-”

He quickly lowered his head down and sniffed you, bringing his face to your neck. The next moment Steve was touching your scar with his lips, and you whimpered involuntarily, expecting it to hurt like hell. But it didn’t. He simply brushed his dry, chapped lips against your mark, and you felt nothing especially painful.

You were growing tired of all this magical things you didn’t understand.

“See? There’s nothing scary.” He smiled brightly, and you saw he had human teeth now, too.

“Yeah, yeah, now please go sit over there,” you grunted, but he didn’t move, laughing at you and ruffling your hair with his large hand. “What are you doing? Go away!”

“Don’t be so cold. You are going to share your life with me, silly woman, so don’t fuss over such little thing.”

You decided it was time for more effective measures and reached out to your pocket to grab the knife, but Steve grabbed your arm before you could do it, sending you a serious look.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’m not here to hurt you, I promise.”

“Really? I have some doubts.” You slapped his hand away, but didn’t try to take the knife again. “Because you have just ruined my life with that bite. How the hell this is going to work, anyway? How do you expect me to live with you? You’re a damn mermaid!”

“I’m a merman,” he said, looking resentful, and returned to his seat, sipping his hot milk with butter - apparently, it was working, and his voice sounded less raspy now.

You exhaled loudly, enjoying the distance and rubbing your mark that wasn’t as itchy as before, but you scratched it, anyway.

“Listen, I’m not saying I’m totally harmless, but I’m not dangerous for you.” He said as he finished his cup. “You can remain living here, on the ground, I won’t pull you into the water... often.”

“Do you understand I can’t just go and be intimate with you, someone I see for the second time in my life?”

“I’d be surprised if you did. Look, I’m not asking for it either. The courtship doesn’t last for a month. You’ll get used to me, I know.”

His dazzling smile was making you feel nauseated, and you grabbed you cup, having a bit of warm milk, too. Steve was being impossible, but you were thankful he wasn’t forcing himself on you now. Maybe there was a chance to trick him into removing this hex, and you would have to figure it out.

“If you want to know whether we can have children together, I can tell you we definitely can. It doesn’t really matter whether I take my true or human form while making love to you, so it’s up to you how you wanna do it.” Steve grinned, and you clenched your teeth, unable to believe he was talking about it so openly, caring little for your consent. There was something barbaric in this charmingly handsome half-naked man sitting in your kitchen.

Suddenly, you felt like the nausea got much stronger, and merman’s smile wasn’t at fault. What was happening? The world was spinning, and you let go of your almost emptied cup, slipping to the floor. Shit, shit, shit. It wasn’t good.

Oh God. It was him, wasn't it? He had done something to you. He smiled and talked and laughed to make you relax, think of your situation like a simple comedy when, in fact, you were still in grave danger. Were you so stupid to believe him or was it his charms again? You hoped for the latter, curshing yourself for being too carefree and letting him into your house.

“Sorry, sweetheart, it seems I put too much medicine in your milk.” He clicked his tongue as you looked at him in horror, barely able to move now. “I thought we had more time to talk. But, well, we can always do it later.”

Steve was near you the next second, carefully lifting you up in the air in his hands, watching you with a bit of concern on his face.

He proceeded to walk in the direction of the door, but before he snatched your torn sweater and put it on his shoulder, carrying you outside of the cottage that had become your little fortress over these few weeks. However, it could keep the monster off your back, and now all you could do was watching the green door becoming further and further from you with each Steve’s step to the shore.

Your body was completely frozen when his feet reached the water, and the merman left a kiss on your cheek, stroking it tenderly despite that wicked smile on his face.

“I told you, you can’t break the tradition. It is time for you to come to me now."

THE END

___________________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @sourpatchspinster

#steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #captain america #yandere #requests #mcu #mcu fanfiction

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the-invisible-queer · 3 years ago

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My Favorite Sebastian Stan Roles

I have been a fan of his since 2008. Been calling him Baz before all the fangirls started calling him Seb and I will call him Baz til the day I die.

The list gets more unhinged the more you scroll.

HAPPY 40TH BIRTHDAY, SEBASTIAN

Bucky Barnes from Marvel Cinematic Universe

The hardest part was figuring out which Bucky gif to use. I have been writing about this character for 11 years. I have been screaming into the ether about him to anyone who would listen. Although his time as my comfort character is coming to an end, I will never forget the many pages of fanfiction I wrote. He will forever live rent free in my head. This will always be my favorite role of his for as long as I live.

10/10 would marry and care for him for the rest of my miserable existence

Jefferson/Mad Hatter from Once Upon a Time

I would die for Jefferson. When he is reunited with Grace, that's what clicked in my brain that he was gonna be one I loved for a long time. I love him. I would die for him. He will also forever live rent free in my head. It's what he deserves.

10/10 would be a loving step-parent to Grace

Mickey from Monday

Mickey, my beloved mess of a human. Choosing this gif was the easiest decision of this post. This man makes me so soft while also making me so concerned for his mental health. He deserves all my love and attention and also deserves to see a professional.

6/10 would love to have a summer fling but would not like to spend my life with him good luck Chloe

Carter Baizen from Gossip Girl

I only started watching Gossip Girl when I learned he was in it. Ended up watching the entire series. Loved it at the time but now I'm horrified. He is the reason I will never trust a pretty boy from a rich family disinherited or not. But goddamn I was always here for the drama.

3/10 would be a fun fling but wouldn't trust him as far as I can throw him

Blaine from Hot Tub Time Machine

Blaine is an absolute cunt who deserves nothing but violence. But did he have some great moments in that movie. I almost opted to post a "Best of" video instead of a gif. But seriously he's one of my favorite assholes in any movie. Deserves to get his ass kicked a million times over.

1/10 would kick his ass but he's still pretty to look at

Charles Blackwood from We Have Always Lived In This Castle

Handsome and dangerous. Kinda weird that he was hitting on his cousin. The costume designer for this film deserves all my love and attention. He is insane and another reason why you don't trust pretty boys who come from money.

3/10 would fight over him drinking out of the milk carton

Johnny Nunzio from Tony n' Tina's Wedding

I too am the unhinged, annoying horny younger sibling. That's it. That's why I love Johnny.

0/10 he's like a child and too much to handle

Lance Tucker from The Bronze

The man is an absolute piece of work. Would not give him the time of day but that scene is one of the funniest and most entertaining scenes in Cinematic history. He is problematic as fuck and not worth the trouble.

0/10 but nice to look at when he does the flips

Tommy Lee from Pam & Tommy

He played this role so flawlessly. The show itself was shit. But his portrayal was absolute gold. The look was immaculate. I think the direction and script being trash shouldn't deter form his performance.

10/10 would let him completely ruin my life

#sebastian stan

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x0401x · 4 years ago

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Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #12

Feel free to message me about possible corrections, and please consider supporting the creators by purchasing digital copies of the official releases: Novel || Manga || Fanbook. In case anyone is feeling generous: Ko-fi | PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

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Suit Story

If you went through Ginza’s Main Street from 7-chome to 1-chome, the change in the city’s atmosphere would shock you. Bulgari, Cartier, Louis Vuitton, Chanel. Felt like you could play shiritori with these high-class brand names. It was a fun neighborhood to stroll around during Christmas season, as all the stores would come up with elaborate plans for the decorative lights, but it was currently autumn. The store most closely related to me in these vicinities was the long-established stationery store where I went to buy stationery. It was, however...

“Please raise your arms a little more.”

“All right.”

“Pull your chin back a bit. Yeah, that’s great.”

“Haah. Is this really right?”

“Of course. Might be hard, but please do relax.”

For whatever reason, I was across the street from the stationery store, practically in front of it, on the second floor of a branded men’s fashion store originally from England. On the walls of this mysterious-gentleman-themed space, which housed a bar counter and even a huge aquarium, there were clusters of business suits, pants and waistcoats with basting threads attached to them in conspicuous spots.

It was a place for taking measurements for custom-made stuff.

I couldn’t get over the feeling that this was some kind of mistake. Wasn’t this the stationery store? The place where you could buy vanilla-colored envelopes for 30 yen each? Or illustrated writing paper with seasonal vibes, or pens.

“Seigi, you are too nervous.”

“Nakata-san is such an imp, but so are you.”

Leaning against the bar counter, Richard shrugged his shoulders, indicating possibility.

Today was Thursday. Having been called by Richard, who said he wanted to ask me to do some odd job, I went over to the front of Etranger, and then we came to this store in the green jaguar. Just when I thought he was gonna make me hang with him for shopping, the man on the driver seat hastily took out his phone, showing me a video letter from my dad, Nakata-san.

“Seigi, congrats on your graduation. I wanted to go suit shopping with you, but I’m in Jakarta, so I’ll be borrowing Richard-san’s assistance for that. Seems like people are getting them custom-made lately. Make sure to buy a good one. Well, see ya.”

Richard had watched over me in the passenger seat as my eyes got wet, but the tears drew back in when we stepped into the store.

While talking lightheartedly about the difference between English and Italian suits, the young clerk, who wasn’t all too apart from me in age, smoothly took my body measurements with a measuring tape and showed me countless textures.

“You can also choose the lining. What should we do about the pockets?”

When I started getting dizzy, said man, who was like a page of suits, began giving me suggestions from behind. I had nowhere to run. I was really going to have my suit made here. As I picked a charcoal-gray suit with blue lining, Richard quickly told me that tanzanite cuffs would look very nice in it. Of course, I was thinking the exact same thing.

By the moment that the Onii-san finished the measuring and disappeared into the back of the store to take notes, I heaved a deep sigh. “This kinda stuff’s been happening a lot lately. All I ever do is receive.”

When I said that, Richard laughed, giggles ringing up his throat.

Richard had two types of smiles, and whenever he raised his voice while laughing, if I refused to back down, he’d often give me a word of advice of some sort. When it was a silent smile, I’d feel like he was telling me in some way to “reflect about myself”, which would make me a bit anxious, but I liked both.

Walking up next to me as I stood in front of the mirror, Richard grinned. “It is no longer guaranteed that your body will grow out of your clothes. Isn’t it fun to sometimes purchase slightly larger clothes and try to wait for your body’s growth?”

“Feeling like this talk doesn’t have the ‘sleep well and drink milk’ kinda nuance to it.”

The reply was a smile. How strange. Richard’s face was right at my left side, but the smile in the mirror was looking directly at me. Clad in a double-button slender silhouette suit, his figure was perfect no matter from what angle I looked at it, like an extraordinarily fine jewel, so my own figure as I tensed up beside him appeared even weirder.

“Hey, Richard, I kinda have the feeling that suits are like the base metals of jewelry.”

“Are you referring to the foundation parts of rings, earrings and such?”

I nodded. The base metal was the metal part that formed the foundation for attaching gemstones to jewelry. In stores, people would often memorize the materials and call them by their names, such as gold base metal or platinum base metal.

It was a part that never played the leading role in Etranger, which handled accessories with gemstones on them. But it’d be hard to wear jewelry on the body without it, and it was also a part that allowed people to express their particularities regarding the materials, durability and design. Whether they would be prominent or not depended on the basis. Erm, this was probably what a jeweler from Kyoto that I was acquainted with would say. The contrary was also possible.

“Gotta psyche myself up. If I don’t become someone that won’t lose to this suit, I’d feel bad.”

“This is my personal opinion, but there is nothing more tiring to look at than a jewelry in which the gem and base metal are at rivalry with one another. What you should emphasize is the harmony. Just because you use the finest high-grade eggs and milk as ingredients, it does not mean you will create the best pudding – is that not the same thing?”

“Ah...”

When I replied that, indeed, high-end ingredients were often strongly in demand, the beautiful man nodded with an “exactly as you say”. By the looks of it, those were the sweets that he was into lately. I hadn’t been able to take time some for it at all due to being busy, but I decided to make pudding again one of these days and offer to him. Despite having a wallet that enabled him to eat as many high-grade desserts as he wanted, Richard would always be delighted anew no matter how many of them I made, which made me believe that, as one would expect, he had a talent for pleasing people. I was grateful for his existence.

“Both suits and jewelry are goods that exist for the sake of their owners. The initiative is clear from the start. You must handling it skillful and comfortably, not fight against it. That is why it is custom-made.”

“So you’re also ‘skillfully handling’ the clothes you’re wearing right now?”

“Evidently. Enough that I do not know anymore at what point it ends and I begin.” With that said, Richard sleekly patted his suit. I wanted to try saying that too someday.

We exchanged glances not through the mirror but directly.

When the clerk Onii-san came back, the measuring recommenced. I got kind of embarrassed as he praised me, saying I was well-relaxed.

“Seigi-kun, good work! Wow, that suit looks really great on you.”

“Thanks, Tanimoto-san. Uh, this print on your furisode, could it be—”

“I was told it’s a modern type of print, but yep, it’s kinda like...”

“It looks like a bismuth crystal!”

With a face that said, “I know, right”, a dandy crease formed under her eyes, which were just a bit more on-the-mark than usual. Her bob-cut hair was the same as always, her cream-colored hakama paired with a yellow-green and dark blue furisode, which bore a mysterious geometric pattern print. On top of being cute, it was unique. She said it was rented, but I got emotional upon finding out there was a furisode that was so much like her.

As for me, I was wearing a double-button English suit that fit my body extremely well. It was a little embarrassing, but the creatures called college boys were more or less the same kind of individuals as myself, so they weren’t too mindful of their male friends’ clothes. Only one of them, who had found employment in the apparel industry, said that “the suit Nakata’s wearing is so nice”.

It was the graduation ceremony of Kasaba University. We gathered in the excessively large auditorium for all but an instant, and once we had our diplomas in hand, it was the beginning of a rapid shooting party, where we took pictures with our preferred friends in spaces near the auditorium. Tanimoto-san came running over to the spot near the central library, where we had decided to meet up.

“Seigi-kun, really, congrats. Things might get hard from now on, but if it’s you, everything will definitely be okay.”

“Thank you. I’ll do my best. I don’t think I’m that big of a deal, though...”

“That’s not true. I know very well how awesome you are.”

I played around a little and bowed my head, also congratulating Tanimoto-san for her graduation, she laughed with a “huhuhu”, looking happy.

She had passed in teaching and she would officially be a middle school science teacher starting this April. She fulfilled the dream that she had told me about when we were in our second year of undergrad. So cool. She had laughed when I said I wanted to take her classes if it were ever possible, but now I knew her video communication address, so it might be that I could actually get to attend her lectures at least once. Even if I were no longer living in Japan.

“Tanimoto-san, the school you’re assigned to is...”

“In Okayama Prefecture. It’s famous for the Katsuta Group of vicarya fossils. Compared to you, it’s next-door.”

In a few days, my address would change from Japan to Sri Lanka. I was going to be a jeweler apprentice. I had been told that I would often have to move around in rough dress, so sure enough, I was going to dedicate myself to wearing formal stuff for the time being. It was a bit of a waste, but Nakata-san and Richard had probably given me a chance to wear this kind of thing because they knew about that.

I could hear a voice in the distance calling, “Shouko~”. It was apparently a friend of Tanimoto-san’s. She waved at them in response.

“Seigi-kun, y’know... I think I was very lucky to meet you in this university. Literally thank you. Thanks to you, university was always fun.”

“Those are all my lines. But Tanimoto-san, I only ever gave you trouble.”

“If you’re gonna say that, same goes for me. I feel like you’ve granted me many opportunities. Seriously, thank you.”

When she smiled, saying she was going to do her best, she looked really cute. Neither of us had any familiarity with Okayama, but surely, she would actively pave the way with her own strength no matter where she was. And on her days off, she would go out to the Katsuta Group to dig up fossils.

“From now on too, if there’s anything I can help you with, I want you to tell me. I’ll do anything. If you run into any weirdo, I’ll get on a plane and come give them a beating.”

“Me too; if anyone ever messes up with you, Seigi-kun, I’ll take my crack hammer and go finish them off. Look forward to it. Ah, Aki told me that a sniper rifle suits me better, apparently?”

“I-I wonder.”

After that, we talked for a while, seated on an inconspicuous bench, and when it was finally time, she told me to at least take care of my body, offering me her hand. I nodded and squeezed it back. Her hand was small but very strong.

“Take care of your body, at the very least. May the blessings of the stones fall upon you.”

“Thank you. You too.”

We bowed deeply, taking pictures with each other while we were at it, and once we were done with the commemorative photoshoot, in which the two of us kept a moderate distance from one another, we parted ways. Students here and there were hugging intensely and wailing, but neither she nor I were that type, and I didn’t think this would be farewell for a lifetime. We would definitely get to see each other from now on too.

However, this was our last time seeing each other while we were students. After the handshake, my angel waved her hand with a “see you”, even more brightly than an actual angel.

Later on, having finished looking around for the friends that I could call friends and going on a tour to tell them “thank you for everything until now”, lastly, I sent a brief text. Not to Richard. To Nakata-san and Hiromi.

“I was able to graduate from university without problems. Thank you very much, truly. I will be in your care from now on too.”

Rather than a greeting, it turned into a notice to announce my renewed determination. The stylish suit indeed gave off an extraordinary feeling of fittingness, but I couldn’t think I was fully used to it. Obviously. It finished being made just a while ago. It would start from here. If it would take on my shape the more I wore it, then I would make sure to wear it steadily to my own liking.

What mattered was the harmony, he had said.

While smoothly stroking the suit, which I still couldn’t deem as anything other than formal wear, as if I were stroking my favorite gemstone, I seared the contrast of cherry blossom petals against the blue sky into my eyes.

#housekishou richard shi no nazo kantei #housekishou richard #jeweler richard #the case files of jeweler richard #nakata seigi #richard ranashinghe de vulpian #richard ranashinha de vulpian #tanimoto shouko #richard #tsujimura nanako #yukihiro utako #novel #jr short story collection #my translation

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

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Day 10: Dukexiety

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 10: You are born with a birthmark, similar to a tattoo, that is shared by your soulmate.

Content warnings: allusions to past suicidal thoughts, just bad mental health past in general, vague bullying, swimming pools, past isolation, minor injury (broken ribs), general anxiety and self deprecation.

Word count: 3.9k

I was very low on time, and very exhausted from work, so I tried something new! I first discovered the concept of ‘bullet fics’ from @illogicallyinclined ‘s hockey au, GO CHECK IT OUT!!! (It’s living in my head rent free for a couple months now)

Virgil, Patton, Logan, and Roman have been friends for as long as they can remember. The first three met at a neighborhood barbecue when they were just a couple years old, and since they all live on the same block, became each other’s go to play buddies. They all stuck together in their first years of school together, the unbreakable trio, and then they met Roman. Or, Roman was pulled into their clutches and was therefore part of the group now. Patton saw him getting bullied across the playground and ran in to help, and now Roman is ‘eternally in their debt’. But they like him, so his extravagance is okay.

They hung out constantly, all throughout middle and highschool, and they graduated together. It was a big moment for all of them; Patton, who almost got left a grade behind several times (his dyslexia went undiagnosed for several years and he was simply categorized as ‘dumb’), Virgil, who almost didn’t make it due to a mental health crisis, Logan, who was pressured heavily by his parents to move up a grade and had to fight tooth and nail to stay with his friends, and Roman, who’s bullying problems didn’t exactly lessen through the years, and was more than relieved to be leaving that behind.

That summer, they pledge (mostly by Roman’s pleading) to try and do something fun every day. While Logan says this is improbable and Virgil groans at the thought of spending every day socializing, Patton is excited for the idea and “it’s two against two so you have to at least try!”

“That logic doesn’t make sense-” “Shut it, teach, just let us have this.”

So far, they’ve gone to the amusement park just out of town, gone to the park too many times to count, visited their local arcade that they hadn’t even stepped foot into since middle school, and tie-dyed a variety of clothing items in Patton’s backyard. Today, Patton is forcing them all to go to the pool, despite Logan claiming that they’re “feces infested, germ nesting grounds” and Virgil’s argument that “he burns like an unwatched pot of milk, how can you expect this from me”, Patton’s little puppy eyes do them all in.

Unfortunately, just as they’re leaving for the pool, Roman gets a call. At first it’s civil, and then his voice raises, and then he’s hanging up and throwing his phone onto his seat from where he’s standing next to the open car door. Angrily, he tells his friends that his mom got called into work and his dad’s on a business trip, so they need to take his brother with them.

At first, this raises some confusion.

“I was not under the impression that you had a little brother.”

“How old is he? Either way, I say, the more the merrier!”

Virgil is not thrilled at the idea of babysitting, since kids generally don’t like him, but he doesn’t voice his displeasure.

Roman has to admit, with much embarrassment, that it’s actually his twin, who is just so chaotically irresponsible that he has lost Home Alone Privileges. He’s broken the TV, accidentally started fires, and lost their dog one too many times and his parents said no more.

So he drives all the way back to his house, the three friends crammed into the back seat of his two door sedan (because the seats are A Pain to raise and lower and it makes more sense to give said brother the front seat instead of rearranging when they get him), grumbling under his breath about his stupid brother, stupid work, stupid stupid stupid-

Virgil is apt to agree with him, because if being around his three closest friends is enough interaction to mentally exhaust him, adding a new person to the mess is so much worse. He’s generally unexcited to meet this new person… until they pull up to the driveway.

And holy heck.

This man is GORGEOUS.

It takes a second for him to realize it’s Roman’s brother, because despite his first assumption, the two are not identical. They’re very similar, obviously related, for sure, but they are surprisingly easy to tell apart, and it’s not just because of the silver streak in the brother’s hair.

Which he should not find as hot as he does.

After Roman insists said brother does need to go get a bathing suit and no you can not go swimming in your jeans, he jumps into the passenger seat and, with as much energy as Roman has at Full Potential, introduces himself as Remus to the backseat audience.

Patton and Logan both say small hello’s, but Virgil is just stuck.

Dear lord. Princey, why have you been hiding him from me?

When they get to the pool, Virgil makes a complete fool of himself getting out of the car. He trips on his seatbelt, landing directly in Remus’ arms, and looks up to see this devil man grinning at him with all the hubris of a greek god. Before he can say anything, Virgil pushes himself up and rolls his eyes (all while internally screaming) and walks away, joining Patton and Logan where they are just entering the main gate.

He can’t help it; when in proximity of cuteness, his emergency mode is “be a dick”.

But it only gets worse from there.

When Virgil has an umbrella properly set up above a chair so he can save his skin from the sun (“I burn like unwatched milk on a stove. I’m not going in.”) and is comfortably situated with his phone and iced coffee, Remus steps in front of him to take his shirt off.

He’s pretty sure Remus didn’t even mean to. It just… happened to be directly in his line of sight.

As soon as the shirt is above his head, Virgil chokes on his drink, squirting iced coffee out of his nose and going into a coughing fit. Patton rubs his back while Roman tries not to laugh (and fails miserably), all while Remus is just watching him. Confused. (Logan is in the change rooms, because he insists on not wearing his bathing suit unless he is actively about to swim)

There’s more than just the sun issue that prevents Virgil from swimming. While his friend’s soulmarks are relatively small (Roman has a little one on his neck, Logan and Patton have a shared one just above their ankles), Virgil’s is a huge splotch that covers his entire side, reaching from just above his top rib to where his waistband usually lies. It’s all squiggles and lumps; Virgil once compared it to a storm cloud, but the lightning streaks were tentacles. It’s all in all, just… A Mess. And he doesn’t really like it. No one he’s ever met has had a soulmark like that, and he hates standing out.

When Remus takes off his shirt, in all his muscled glory, Virgil can’t miss the matching soulmark that trails down Remus’ side. It’s his, no doubt about it, but… that can’t be right, can it? Remus is so… full of life, dangerous, the epitome of chaotic; he’s everything Virgil is not. More so, he’s terrified of what Remus must think of him. He’s nothing special, he’s just an anxious ball of angst. What if he’s disappointed in who the universe decided to stick him with?

After he’s done choking on iced coffee, and Logan is back from the change room, he realizes Remus is long gone, in the deep end of the pool trying to gather as many foam noodles as he can. They check that Virgil is alright, and when he merely gives them a shaky thumbs up, they take it at face value and dive in. Except Logan, who uses the steps like a mature adult, you children.

He lets the rest of his coffee sit in the sun, until the sun melts all the ice cubes and it’s lukewarm to touch and overall, just gross, because suddenly he has no appetite. Yeah, this guy is gorgeous and he’s hopelessly gay for him, but... soulmate? That’s a lot for anyone to take in, much less someone with forty seven different kinds of anxiety. /j

If Virgil was uneasy taking his shirt off before, he sure as hell isn’t doing it now. No matter how much Patton and Roman plead with him, he stays glued to his chair, eyes flickering from his friends playing Marco Polo to watching his soulmate Remus. He’s turned the pool noodles into a giant raft and is trying to balance on it, like an absolute idiot.

An extremely good looking idiot.

Virgil can’t help but notice that… he’s all alone. Roman, Patton, and Logan barely even throw him the occasional glance, much less invite him to hang out with them in the water. Worse than that, he seems relatively fine with it. It could just be that he doesn’t want to intrude on his brother’s friend group, but Remus doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to have those boundaries. Which kind of insinuates that he’s used to being alone, and Virgil can’t help but empathize.

He notices it a lot, actually. The group meeting Remus also coincides with Roman and Virgil becoming more close; less of a frenemy relationship, and more of an actual friendship. Patton is delighted, because this means the three of them get to hang out at Roman’s huge place more often without their constant bickering (because when it got bad at one of their houses, Virgil’s was never more than a ten minute walk away when Roman finally pushed his last button. Here, they were all stuck.)

And every time they go over, he can’t help but notice the loud music coming from Remus’ room, or the man just sitting on the couch watching TV (which he tends to do shirtless, which does not help Virgil at all), or irritating Roman’s parrot. All in all, doing things alone. It strikes a chord in Virgil’s heart, which is something he’d never admit to another person.

Maybe that’s why, in the following week when Roman has the grand idea to go on a mountain hike, Virgil quietly asks if they could invite Remus. At first, Roman is adamant. “He’ll just ruin things, he doesn’t appreciate nature, he’s annoying!” But Patton claims “The more the merrier” and Logan doesn’t have any particular stance, so he begrudgingly invites Remus.

Who very excitedly accepts.

The trail Roman visited is quite a ways out of town, so they cram back into his tiny car and start the drive. Patton claimed shotgun, so him and Roman have derailed into an animated conversation about cartoons, while Logan just pops in his earbuds and leans his head against the window. For the longest time, Remus and Virgil sit in awkward silence, because neither of them could get a word in edgewise to the front seat conversation even if they tried, and they don’t… really… know what to say… to each other.

It’s Remus who finally breaks the silence (shocker).

“Roman tells more you’re the one who wanted to invite me.”

“Yeah, well, you seemed lonely. And… I mean, you’re Roman’s brother. Can you really be that bad?”

He means it as a joke, but he sees the light in Remus’ eyes die slightly. The tone of his voice doesn’t falter though, remaining as joyful and quirky as always.

“I’m a lot more fun than Roman. People just don’t like to see it that way.”

“Setting your kitchen curtains on fire is fun?”

“If you were there, you’d understand!”

And they keep talking, maybe trailing into borderline flirting, for the whole ride. Virgil is surprised at the lack of tenseness in his shoulders, because though Remus is loud and a little unsettling, he is incredibly patient when Virgil has trouble forming his sentences and doesn’t interrupt him when he’s talking; an incredible help to someone with crippling anxiety. Underneath his exterior, he’s actually… incredibly soft? What?

By the time they pull up to the trail, Remus is actually starting to grow on Virgil. Since Patton and Roman are still so into their debate, and Logan seems content listening to his music (or podcast, but who really knows), they continue talking as the hike starts. The shorter boy can’t help but glance at the other every few seconds, seeing their soulmark just peeking past the edge of his baggy tank top. If Remus notices, he says nothing.

And he learns Remus was bullied a lot through school, just like Roman was, but instead of finding a group that supported him, he broke off as a lone wolf. He came off scary or maybe just a little bit crazy to anyone he tried to befriend, since his social skills were pretty lacking due to disuse and his incredible lack of filter, so he learned early that staying alone hurt less. And in that time, he just became more and more… Like That… because he literally never had peers to mature with.

The hike is a long one. Remus is pretty eager to spill his guts, probably since he was never able to before, so Virgil feels obligated to do the same. He tells Remus about his anxiety, about his mental health issues during school, about his home life and his hobbies, and the fact that there are more people around just fades into the background. It could as well be just them, and Virgil starts to wish it was.

So of course, that’s when everything goes to shit.

A mountain biker comes ripping down the path, too quick to even process, and Virgil is caught off guard. Of course, he’s not walking near the edge of the path, because he has some shred of common sense, but the bike speeding by him causes him to flinch and stumble to the side; an instinctual reaction. Except his instincts decided to not remember until the last second that he’s at the edge of the trail.

It’s almost like happening in slow motion, his foot goes over the edge, and he doesn’t realize what’s about to happen until his other foot is already off the ground, ready to take that next step back, and he’s falling. Luckily (as lucky as one can be in this situation), it’s not a straight drop, just a decently long, steep slope that’s essentially just a bunch of rocks and weeds.

He hears his friends scream his name, sees a hand fly out to catch him, and it just snags the edge of his jacket before he’s freefalling for a split moment. One heart stopping, never ending, eternal and all too short moment of weightlessness where he twists his body, hoping to try and brace himself, and then he meets the slope.

Hard.

His breath leaves him in a wheeze and he distinctly hears a loud snap. Through his pain addled brain, he tries to stop his slide further down by grabbing anything; rocks, roots, dirt. It’s useless.

He stops naturally, on a small ledge several meters from the top before the slope continues. For a moment, he can only lay there, trying to breathe through the intense pain flaring through him pretty much everywhere, not to mention the sheer levels of pure panic numbing his thoughts. He stares at the clouds, watching them as they float by, each breath spreading fire through his torso but at the same time strangely numb.

And then, “VIRGIL!”

His eyes shoot open (wait, when did he close them?) to see Remus’ concerned face above his. If the messied state of his outfit is any indication, this man just slid down the slope to catch up to him. His hands are hovering above Virgil, scared to touch, but more scared that Virgil is going to keep falling.

“Fuck,” is Virgil’s eloquent response. He tries to take a deep breath, tries to do his breathing pattern to calm his nerves, but NOPE. Wrong move.

He immediately gasps and his hands fly to his ribs, another flair of pain shooting up them. Remus’ hands grab his, pulling them away from his torso, holding them securely. “I think you have some broken ribs. That was… one hell of a fall. We need to get you back up to the trail though, okay?”

Virgil can only nod his head, allowing Remus to help him stand, biting his lip so hard to keep from crying out that his lip splits. It hurts.

Trust Logan to come up with ideas on the fly. The biker must have stopped when he realized Virgil had fallen (at least he didn’t just keep driving), because when Virgil opened his tear filled eyes, there was a bike tire just a few feet from his face. He followed the frame of the bike, up to where Roman was holding the other wheel and standing precariously on the slope. Logan is clinging onto his hand, one foot on the slope and one on the actual trail, and if Virgil has to guess, the biker and Patton are just out of sight, keeping Logan steady.

Virgil knows it’s going to hurt before Remus even warns him that it will, watching the taller man get a good grip on the bike wheel, before holding Virgil’s wrist with as much force that can muster without actively cutting off circulation. Virgil holds onto his wrist in return, Remus gives a shout to go ahead, and the human/bike chain they’ve created begins to pull them up.

And oh lord, if Virgil thought just laying down was painful, tripping and stumbling up a steep incline is another world altogether. This time, biting his lip doesn’t work and he lets out a few muffled cries as the team works together, Remus squeezing his wrist every time a choked sound escapes his lips, mind too full of pure agony to even curse.

When they finally step foot onto the trail again, Virgil is in tears, and he is too far gone to even care. The biker is incredibly apologetic, offering his contact information and bidding them adieu when they insist that they’re okay now, and takes off, at an admittedly much slower pace than he was at before.

Logan, the only one of them with proper (and extensive) first aid training, forces Virgil to sit, giving him time to find a position that puts as little pressure on his ribs as possible, before crouching in front of him.

“Let me check if they’re broken.”

His hand reaches out towards Virgil’s shirt and all the alarm bells start BLARING. No. No, no, no, no, no. Before he can restrain himself, he reaches out and slaps Logan’s hand away, sending another wave of pain through him. The pain doesn’t matter though, not in comparison to Logan possibly revealing his soulmark.

Logan doesn’t understand this reaction properly (when does he ever), so he tries again.

“Virgil, I need to check the extent of the damage. A cracked rib means you can still make it back to the car. A broken rib would require emergency services and probable air lifting to prevent further damage, like a punctured lung.”

“Fine,” Virgil hisses through clenched teeth, bitterly understanding his logic, “Just… don’t take the shirt off.”

He tries to say it to only Logan, but it’s clear the other’s heard it by the way they exchange confused glances. Yes, they’ve never seen Virgil without a shirt, except they’d always pegged that up to insecurities. Wouldn’t those take a back seat in a possible medical emergency?

Logan complies, however, and slides his hand under the hem of his shirt without moving the fabric. He runs his hands slowly up each rib, concentrating heavily, until he reaches one midway up and Virgil yelps, instinctively flinching backwards.

Startled by the reaction (it’s his first time actually administering first aid like this, give him a break), Logan jumps back, forgetting his hand is still under Virgil’s shirt.

His hand moves up.

Virgil moves back.

And the hem of his shirt rises up his chest for just a moment.

A moment’s all that’s needed, though. When you notice something that you’ve seen yourself a hundred times over, admiring this way and that in the mirror to commit it to memory, it only takes a glance to recognize it.

Remus only needed that split second of the shirt riding up to notice the lower half of the soulmark, and he definitely did notice it, if the way his jaw drops is anything to go off of. Virgil winces again, not from pain this time, and looks down at his shoes, abhorring the awkward silence that ensues.

The other three don’t understand, watching the two of them with varying levels of confusion, until Remus blurts:

“Are you my soulmate?”

And everything clicks into place. Virgil nods mutely, still not looking up, afraid of his reaction. Would he be upset Virgil kept it a secret? Would he be disappointed? Would he would he would he-

“Oh thank GOD!”

That’s… not the reaction he was expecting. He looks up to see Remus grinning like a child on their birthday, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“I mean, if I’d want anyone to be my soulmate, it would be you! You don’t hate me, which a lot of people do, and you actually listen to me, which is nice, and not to mention you’re super hot, like the whole emo thing is just-”

“Remus!” Roman screeches, cutting him off, “You’re embarrassing him, let him breathe!”

It’s the first time Roman has ever come to Virgil’s defense, and he’s only vaguely happy about that. Truth is, he’s so much more wrapped up in the fact that Remus is actually happy that he doesn’t even notice Logan’s back to touching his ribs until another sharp pain brings him back.

“They’re definitely not broken. Fractured, at worst. Either way, you’re going to the hospital. Only question is, can you get down to the car?”

Virgil wants to nod, wants to go along with no problem, but he can barely take a step before his knees almost give out. If he could double over without making everything worse, he would.

Remus doesn’t see this as a problem, though, eagerly offering Virgil to ride on his back until they get to the bottom. The shorter is, obviously, reluctant to this plan, seeing as how it’s a decently long trail and he isn’t that light, but damn, his soulmate insists, and next thing he knows, he’s gingerly holding onto Remus’ shoulders as he pushes back into a standing position.

(If he wasn’t already super hot, he’s strong, too? Virgil has struck the literal jackpot.)

He buries his face into the crook of Remus’ neck, trying not to wince at every jolt and bump as they maneuver their way down the hill, all conversation halted so they can focus on the two of them. Roman walks in front of them and Patton and Logan behind, ready to jump into action at any sign of stumbling.

But it’s okay, it actually is, Virgil realizes as they’re making their way down the hill. Sure, they only really bonded today, but they also bonded in a day, and if that’s not telling of the future they’ll have together, whether romantic or platonic (they still need to talk that out), it’s gonna be okay.

Anyone who’s willing to throw themselves into harm's way and carry you down a mountain has got to be a worthy soulmate.

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #dukexiety #remus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #ts soulmate au #sanders sides #sanderssides #sanders sides fanfiction

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ashxketchum · 4 years ago

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Writer’s Month - 2

Wow, not me writing something for two days in a row? This one is a stand-alone oneshot for now, but I think there is a lot of potential for a sequel, I even have some part of it clearly planned out so if time allows me to sit down with my laptop sooner than later, I’ll work on that!

Fandom/Pairing: Digimon/Mimato (friendship, yes I am capable of writing something other than romance between these two hahahaaa)

Prompt: Coffee shop setting, cold (Yamato is very cold here, it’s actually kinda angsty)

Setting: Post Tri but pre Kizuna. Yamato is in his first year of college and Mimi is in her last year of high school. The basis for this fic is solely the dialogue in To Sora, I wanted to explore the idea of Mimi and Yamato growing closer and having important conversations with each other, but it had to have a rocky start and this is that rocky start!

“I’ll have a venti matcha berry frappe, nonfat, refrigerated chilled milk, absolutely no ice, extra whipped cream, which, make sure, is layered perfectly, with three pumps of caramel syrup and two of vanilla.”

He could feel his manager’s eyes boring into his back, so Yamato did what any other good employee in his place would, he kept a straight face and diligently noted down the customer’s request before moving on to ringing it up without once bothering to look at the girl standing behind the counter or ask for her name. He wondered if his manager would find it strange, that he hadn’t taken the customer’s name, but seeing as Yamato was already putting all his effort into concentrating well on his job and not explode on the brunette who seemed to take some pleasure out of his misery, he decided that he was allowed this one slip and he’d deal with his manager later, since the bigger problem was in front of him, eyeing him with a teasing glint in her caramel eyes as he picked up the paper cup and moved over to the work station to begin working on her order. He did however, kept a track of what his manager was doing from the corner of his eye, and the minute the older man was out of sight, Yamato breathed a sigh of relief and spun on his feet.

“Please Mimi, by all means, go ahead and make my job more difficult.” Yamato seethed, managing to keep his voice low so as to not attract any attention to them.

“Well, if you’re going to ask that nicely.” Mimi smirked, as always she had the upper hand in the conversation due to the safety guaranteed by being a customer at the shop.

“Just take the drink and go, let me work in peace.” Yamato attempted to maintain a superior tone as he begged her to leave, turning again to add the finishing touches to her order as quickly as he could, before his superior caught whiff of his not so welcoming attitude towards their customers.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Mimi beamed at him, as she accepted the finished product from his hand, her fingers brushed against his for a brief moment, suddenly making Yamato hyper aware of the spot at the back of his hand.

“Don’t you have anything better to do? Entrance exams to worry about?” He asked exasperatedly, she seemed too carefree for someone who was in the last year of their high school, remembering his own experience of it from the previous year.

Mimi scoffed in reply, waving a hand in the air to brush aside his concern for her education, instead of turning to make her way out of the store now that she had received her order, she settled on the empty bar stool on the other side of the pick-up counter, resting one elbow on the counter top as she took careful sips of her drink from the other hand. He watched her like a hawk, Yamato wouldn’t put it past the brunette to make fake claims about the taste of the drink just to get him into trouble.

This had been going on for a few months now, every time he had a shift during her after school hours, Mimi would make it her life’s purpose to show up and annoy him to no extent. He’d attempted to explain to her, that he really needed to keep this job to maintain his life expenses, but apparently the pleasure she took from watching him stumble around while making coffee seemed to take precedent over his livelihood.

Of course, Mimi wasn’t the only one to blame here, if only his roommate at the college dorm wasn’t a bigger pain in the ass, Yamato would never had have to take up this part-time job in the first place. When he had complained to his father about not being able to get along well with his roomie, instead of agreeing to raise his monthly allowance so that Yamato could move out and rent a place of his own, his father had promptly told him that as an adult, he should learn to solve his own problems from now on. Yamato had half a mind to remind his father that him and his friends had not only solved the Digital World’s problems on multiple occasions, but also saved their own world by doing so, but he had stayed quiet and accepted his fate. On Takeru’s recommendation he had taken up a part-time job at this popular coffee joint, the pay was decent and the hours weren’t too bad and well Yamato always had had a knack for being good in the kitchen, so it had been suiting his purposes of saving up to move out of the college dorm as soon as possible just well.

Until Mimi happened to walk in one day and decided to take matters into her own hands.

She had been surprised to see him behind the counter, and at first she had just been curious, about what he was doing here or what he had been up to since the graduation ceremony. Yamato had to admit, that ever since he had graduated high school, he’d finally understood what Jou had been struggling with for the longest time, it wasn’t easy to maintain friendships when one was thrust with the responsibility of taking care of every single aspect of their lives and somehow pursue studies on which one’s future life depended at the same time. He considered himself lucky, if he was able to have a phone conversation with Takeru that lasted more than 5 minutes in a day. So he hadn’t been wary of Mimi popping up every now and them, updating him about her and Koushiro’s school life, and sometimes Jou’s and Sora’s too. It gave him a way to stay connected with everyone without having to make time for them, and while he did feel guilty about this on multiple occasions, he was grateful for it too.

That was before Mimi got bored with just talking about their lives, and decided to spice up their encounters by getting him to light trouble with his manager. It was usually just silly little things like claiming he got her order wrong or giving extremely complicated and hard to follow requests, and she had never pulled something huge that would seriously get Yamato in trouble, but it was still frustrating and it ruined his mojo for the rest of his shift.

There was also the question of why Mimi had suddenly taken such a liking to spending time with him, of all people, since they had never been close enough for a relationship like this. They’d spent time together before sure, and they’d had their fair share of agreements and disagreements when it came to matters related to the Digital World, but apart from that Yamato could barely remember any interactions with her that didn’t circle back to the Digital World or their Digimon Partners. So the thought always nagged at him, at the back of his head, when she would appear with a skip in her step and fix him with one of the brightest smiles he knew.

But then she would go on to do something diabolical, and he’d be reminded of how similar she was to his little brother, which led to him missing Takeru and left him irritated and wishing for her to leave.

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Yamato turned his attention towards the brunette sitting in front of him, she had set down the drink on the counter top and was currently surveying the store with her bright eyes, the mischievous glint in them indicating that she was just looking for something that could serve as prop of the day in interfering with his work. Relieved that he had caught her while she was still in her planning phase, Yamato decided to take control of the situation before his manager returned and reprimanded him for being rude to their customers.

“You really don’t have anything better to do?” Yamato began icily, making Mimi turn her gaze towards him, the challenging look on her face seemed to put the last nail to his patience’s coffin as he snapped at her, “Don’t you have any friends?”

He regretted it the minute those words left his mouth, biting his tongue in an attempt to stop himself from groaning outwardly.

The effect on Mimi was immediate, all colour drained from her face and her eyes shone with a blanket of tears just waiting to fall, but with a single blink she managed to keep them at bay and faced him with a hardened look as she replied quietly, “I thought that’s what we were.”

And before Yamato could make any attempts to take back his statements or even begin to apologize for his behaviour, Mimi was out of the door, leaving behind her drink on the counter and without sparing a single glance in his direction.

Yamato allowed himself to groan out loud when he picked up her cup to clear the counter and found that it was still heavy, she had barely begun to drink it. He couldn’t help but chide himself internally, for missing on something that was so obvious, for even deliberating on an answer that was right in front of his eyes this entire time.

Yamato couldn’t believe that he, of all people, had missed out on the signs of their budding friendship, had pushed it aside as nothing but an occasional nuisance within his routine.

His optimistic side hoped that he would just explain himself to her when she’d show up tomorrow, even offer her her favourite drink for free as a token of his apology, but a tiny voice at the back of his head reminded him, that there was no way Mimi would come back to spend time with him after this.

Unfortunately, it was the tiny voice that prevailed in its prediction, as Mimi didn’t show the next day or the one after that, or after that.

At first Yamato consoled himself by devoting himself to the tasks at hand, happy to finally be able concentrate on his work, he managed to win praises from his manager on multiple occasions which pushed Mimi’s absence from his surroundings out of his head, and for a while it worked.

But then there were slow days, when he didn’t have much to do but stand behind the counter and look at all the people sitting around in groups of twos and threes, laughing and chatting loudly as they sipped their coffees and munched on their food. The sight would tug on an invisible string in his heart, make him long for Mimi’s teasing smile as she rattled off with an order comprising of the most incompatible ingredients, laughing loudly at the look of horror that would take over his face as he wrote down her instructions. There were days when the shop would be eerily silent, and he’d hear her voice in his head, telling him about something that had happened at school. There were days when someone would walk by with a pet, cuddling it and showering it with affection, making him miss Gabumon’s soft fur and he’d instinctively turn towards the pick-up counter, hoping to tell Mimi about it but was met with emptiness instead.

He hadn’t realised, just how much he had managed to share with her during their encounters, and how he had begun to depend on her company to get him through his mundane work life. And in true Yamato fashion, he had gone ahead and messed it all up by thinking about things from only his perspective.

His father’s words echoed in his mind once again, he had to learn to solve his own problems, and what better time to start than now?

#writersmonth2021 #mimato #digimon fanfiction #yamato ishida #mimi tachikawa #digimon #writealot #unfinished excerpt #I wanna write the apology scene for sure #coming up with Mimi's frappe order was hella fun tho #otp : purely friendly

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