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p-antomime · 3 years ago

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— minors don’t interact.

— wc: 1,8K.

content + warnings: 18+, dom!sanzu haruchiyo, implied fingering, non con, stalking, obssession, toxic sanzu, a bit of manhandle, panties stealing, invasion of privacy, gaslighting & manipulation, coercion, dark content.

pairings: stalker!sanzu haruchiyo x fem!reader.

request.

my kinktober list!

both sanzu and reader are aged up in the end of this work! and the reader is really naive here.

tw. this work may contain triggers about stalkers, invasion of privacy and coercion, so please be careful reading.

ooh~ stalker!sanzu, this is interesting to me and I apologize in advance if I get too carried away writing about it!

so, let's start at the base of everything: stalker!sanzu is an intimacy seeker, which means that inside his head you always loved him, even if the few times you mentioned his name in conversation circles he was listening to from afar were only to comment that he "seemed normal".

and he seemed normal to you precisely because the first kind of contact between you two was a school project.

yours friends found him creepy, because they, yes, noticed the fixed way that stalker!sanzu used to stare at you from afar, but you were so naive and wanted to be kind with him, since he theoretically had never treated you badly... until the present moment.

stalker!sanzu would always be on the prowl, he knew your entire weekly schedule for months, which would turn into years because in a short time he would be the very person who would shape your personal routine, since you are so naive and, to him: pathetic, that you can't even do that on your own.

stalker!sanzu who would beat the shit out of some older guys who were commenting in the hallways about "how hot you were", "how your curves were almost an invitation for some guy to get his hands on you".

hot? Okay, stalker!sanzu agreed with that, but he was specifically the only person who could dare compliment you using that word, you were too precious to have your name chewed out of those guys' rotten mouths.

so he beat them until he heard the "creck" from each of their noses.

and you didn't need to know that.

soon after stalker!sanzu found out that by divine work or coincidence from hell, you two would be in the same class the following year

every day stalker!sanzu would make it a point to sit next to you during class, he would always speak exactly the words you wanted and needed to hear, he was always available to help you with any kind of activity, he almost became your personal watchdog.

you didn't even realize that more and more you moved away from your friends to become closer to stalker!sanzu as time went by

so when you eventually started dating at the end of your senior year of high school all your Friday nights and weekends had schedules that featured just you and him, the two of you together and alone

and on one of those various outings when both of you already were of age, stalker!sanzu ended up driving you back home and when you went desperately searching your pockets for your keys, he said: "Aren't they under the shoe rack?"

you both looked at each other for a few seconds and stalker!sanzu for a split second remembered that you never got to share this information with him and he only knew this because he had followed you on your way home many other times before

"You told me you left them under the shoe rack for when you needed them... when we were in high school, don't you remember?", and the relieved smile and the lightened countenance decorating your face made stalker!sanzu mentally sigh in relief; it was so easy to implant non-existent information into your brain, it was fun to do that to him

"Oh, you know my memory is a little bad, babe", you would reply, shrugging your shoulders and bending down to pick up your keys from under the shoehorn.

"Yeah, that's why you always need me around", stalker!sanzu cracked a slight smile

"I really do", Y/N replied opening the door as stalker!sanzu's eyes slowly began to scan the interior of the residence, "Thank you for today, my love"; and then you kissed his lips as a form of farewell

and after that kiss, stalker!sanzu quickly returned home because a simple kiss, with no ulterior motives, was enough to give him an instant erection

that was the level of influence you had over him.

stalker!sanzu who that night desperately sought out any kind of porn where the girl had a curvy body, like yours, and the most adorable personality and appeared to be quiet before having a cock shoved deep inside her, like you

and then he ended up falling for several porn pages on Twitter on which there were several hard kinks that were compatible with his

stalker!sanzu who could easily spend three, four hours just fantasizing about what it would be like to abuse your mouth, what it would be like to bury himself inside you until yours holes were sore and you were begging him to stop, all while one palm of his was wrapped around his dick, going up and down

after a few weeks of the key occurrence, stalker!sanzu would wait for some day of the week when you were out of the house and he would know about your engagement because absolutely everything you did or thought about doing, you told him about.

he knew more about you than you did yourself, after all.

and when he sneaked into your residence using the same keys you kept under your shoe rack, stalker!sanzu immediately went looking for the door where were your bedroom, the place he wishes he had known long ago.

Sanzu ran his tongue over his lips as he looked at your fully made up bed and the bedroom that screamed "You" on everything. It was cute like you, perfect like you. He lay on the bed, enjoying the feel of yours soft sheets, and stuck his nose against the pillow, inhaling your scent that permeated those fabrics. His eyes rolled back in personal pleasure, and if he had any idea how much time you would spend away from home today, he most likely would have masturbated right there, in the middle of your room, while smelling that pillow of yours.

But then, Haruchiyo slowly stood up, still intoxicated by your smell, and looked through your closet before he started opening its drawers and doors looking for the part where you kept your panties. He was searching for them almost as if they were the most precious treasures in the world.

Sanzu felt his mouth salivate as he found them, and his hands took hold of the one with the light-colored, angelic-looking lace. He wanted so much to see you wearing that piece, you obviously looked so beautiful in it.

Just as he had done with the pillow, Haruchiyo also took the panties up to his nostrils. And there was no smell there coming from your body, but his mind convinced him that there was.

Just in case, Sanzu ended up taking another of yours panties and stuffed them both into his pants pockets before closing the drawer, rearranging your bed to look untouched, and getting out of the house leaving everything as if no one had ever violated your privacy and putting the key back under the shoe rack.

after that, when you came home that day, your mind didn't notice anything different...

and not a few times stalker!sanzu took advantage of you sharing information about when you would be out of the house to again go and steal panties.

Again...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd again...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd again.

and how many times did he cum in each of them and use them to rub his own dick? Don't ask me, ask him.

but you began to be startled by the sudden lack of undergarments in that drawer of yours, who was the insane, sexual predator who was deliberately stealing panties from young girls?

when the two of you went out on a date again, you commented to stalker!sanzu about your panties suddenly disappearing and the look of surprise and disgust rehearsed by him for this moment made you believe that he was as appalled as you were.

"Why don't you stay at my place? For safety reasons, of course, who knows what this stalker might do to you if he catches you off guard?", he would speak while thinking exactly: "I know very well what I would do”.

and stalker!sanzu would have a huge smile decorating his face after saying this to you, but you were so busy being torn between thinking about how perfect your boyfriend was and how the person stealing your panties might actually try to abuse you someday that your mind didn't even pay much attention to your boyfriend's smile.

after that, stalker!sanzu would help you take some of your belongings to his house, and every day he would undoubtedly have you stay almost 24 hours a day, seven days a week at home.

— S-Sanzu, please... — You tried to free yourself from his hands groping for every bit of flesh on your body they could find. — I don't want to...

— You what? — Sanzu grabbed your face with his right hand, forcing you to look him straight in the eye. — What don't you want, hm? Tell me. Remember, pretty girl, I'm doing all this because I want you to be safe, you need me to do everything for you, haven't you forgotten? — Sanzu spoke, sliding his lips down your neck and taking a bite of one of your collarbones before groping the side of your ass with his left hand.

And you were so vulnerable, with Sanzu Haruchiyo pressing you against the cold wall of his bedroom, rubbing his hard cock against your pussy covered by one of the panties he hadn't had the opportunity to steal earlier. Sanzu seemed to explore your body as if he already had plenty of sexual experience with other people, but truth be told: it was only easy to turn you on and subdue you because, besides you being vulnerable, sexual contact was something new and unexplored for you, so he could abuse every hole in your body and use the excuse that "it was normal to hurt when you're inexperienced”.

What didn't you want, hm? He had asked you a question and there was no sign of an answer from you, so Sanzu spread yours legs apart to dig his fingers into the inside of your thighs and then slide his long fingers to where his most coveted prize was.

Sanzu Haruchiyo would fuck the indecision out of you, would fuck you until you learned to like him taking advantage of your body for his own pleasure, since in the purest, sweetest reality, you were his. Totally his. Always his. All the curves he loved in your body were meant to be touched, squeezed, spanked and caressed by his mouth and hands. And your naivety was made to be ruined by him.

And of course you would eventually become his beloved wife, always fulfilling his sick desires. Sanzu would never get tired of you.

And where could you run to?

Who knows what that panty-stealing sexual predator might be capable of.

#tokyo revengers sanzu #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu x y/n #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev smut #sanzu smut #sanzu x reader #[ 🍰 ] — kiki.reqs #kiki kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2021 #tw.dark content #tw.noncon #tw.stalking #tw.coercion #tw.manhandling

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coldsandfluff · 3 years ago

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Friday Night Fever (F/M, Original, Illness Care-Taking Fluff)

Wrote this little original F/M care-taking fluff fic inspired by something that happened to me when I was in college (basically, caught a cold, three friends came over unannounced and insisted on me coming with them to the bar until one of them noticed the thermometer on my nightstand and realized I really was too sick to go). I've changed all the characters personality/appearance (including myself) so that we are completely unrecognizable, and added more to the story of course 😚

So if you like group of friends, platonic to maybe romantic care-taking fluff and F/M illness, read on!

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Annabel left the sandwich shop at the end of her evening shift, feeling the cold autumn air seep through her jacket. Darkness had blanketed the town hours ago, and college students were already filling the streets on their way to the bars to celebrate the end of the week. Not that they’d really needed a reason to drink, of course.

As she launched the trash bags in the large dumpster in the back alley, Annabel felt an uncomfortable shiver running down her back. She’d been feeling under the weather for a couple of days, downing vitamin C fizzy drinks to stave it off. What she’d hoped would end up being a little annoying cold was turning out to be more than she’d bargained for. She could feel the icy tendrils of a fever crawling on her skin, and all she wanted to do was slip under the covers of her warm bed and sleep all weekend.

Her phone pinged as she started making her way back to her apartment.

Finn: We’ll be there in 40 minutes. Zack wants to pick up some pregame vodka from the store first.

Annabel sighed. She’d met Zack, Finn and Alex at her second job—a fancy new restaurant in the heart of town where she’d been waitressing part-time for the past two months. They’d hit it off on opening day, when Zack had accidentally broken a whole stack of plates. No one had seen what had happened but the four of them. Zack had gotten his dishwasher’s apron stuck on the door handle, and his hands had slipped at the sudden pull.

The crash had been deafening.

Right before the owner had rushed in to ask what had happened, Zack’s best friend, Finn, had kicked the wheel of the cart where the plates had been sitting a few moments ago, giving Alexander and Annabel a knowing look.

They’d all told the owner that the cart was broken and had tipped over without anyone touching it. Somehow, the owner had bought the lie. That night, Zack insisted on paying them a round of shots at the bar, and a tradition was born: The four of them. Every Friday. With lots of alcohol.

It was the only time Annabel let loose. With her two jobs and college, she was struggling to find free time, but Friday nights had become sacred. There was nothing like downing drinks and letting the buzz take over, following her three new friends wherever they wanted to go. It was always an adventure. Especially with Zack at the helm.

But tonight, there was no way she could make it.

Annabel: Actually, I can’t come tonight. Sorry.

She walked past a group of friends laughing and hollering, wishing she’d felt as good as they did. But the headache growing behind her eyes wasn’t going to let up, and adding alcohol to the mix would only make it worse. Not only that, but her nose had started running in the past two hours. She’d had to go blow it in the restroom every half hour, getting herself banished from the front of the store by the manager. She’d washed her hands so often that her skin was almost raw.

Just like her nose.

Finn: Nah, you’re coming. Nobody cancels Friday night. Come on.

Annabel couldn’t hold a smile. She typed back, sniffling. Her sinuses were prickling like crazy, as if she’d accidentally inhaled a cloud of tiny fireworks. She stifled a sneeze in the crook of her elbow, mid-word. “Ehh—Ehh’KSHHeeww!” Her eyes watered from the force of it. She wiped the tears away and resumed typing.

Annabel: I’ll make it up to you guys next weekend. Drinks on me.

She grabbed a crumpled tissue from her jacket pocket and dabbed at her nose. Her apartment was only a few blocks away, beckoning her. As she crossed the last stretch of sidewalk to the entrance, she kept checking her phone.

No reply.

Shrugging, she unlocked the front door and took the stairs.

***

Back in her apartment, she made a beeline for the bathroom to the right and used toilet paper to blow her nose, finally free to make as much noise as she wanted. She winced from the roughness of it on her chapped nostrils, but it was all she had. She wasn’t exactly the planning type. Her idea of a grocery list was memorizing the first three items and hoping the rest would come to her as she walked through the aisles. Most often than not, she’d have to make a quick run at the convenience store down the street to get what she’d forgotten.

She gathered her thick curly hair into a bun and looked at herself in the mirror. It was enough to confirm that she’d made the right decision. Her eyes were glazed over, her skin was so pale that her freckles popped like they did in the summer. Except for that slight flush high on her cheeks, of course. She popped a thermometer under her tongue and removed her work clothes, leaving them in a pile in front of the bathtub.

Shivering from the sudden change in temperature, she covered her arms with her hands and ran to her dresser. Her warmest, softest sweater was the first thing she grabbed and put on, before throwing on a pair of comfy leggings and wool socks. The thermometer beeped.

100.8 °F. Figured.

She rolled her eyes and shuffled over to the “kitchen” of her studio apartment, which was the size of a matchbox and only contained a mini fridge, a microwave and an old sink. She poured herself some water and walked over to the bed, placing her glass and the thermometer on her nightstand. She would have brought over medicine as well, but she’d run out last semester after catching the flu going around campus, and had forgotten to replenish her stash. No matter. She could sleep this off. It was just a cold.

She suddenly sneezed twice in a row, as if her body wanted to protest her minimizing her illness, then got under the cover. Just as she was getting a little warmer, propping up her laptop to watch a movie, there was a knock at the door.

Annabel sat up, startled.

“Anna, open up!” a voice said behind the door.

Zack.

Annabel chuckled. Of course they wouldn’t give up that easily. She groaned, getting out of the warmth of her bed. She considered rushing to the dresser and putting on cuter clothes—they were her friends, but they were still boys, and she didn’t want to look like shit in front of them—but the thought of it was enough to drain her energy. Screw it. She walked over to the door and opened it.

“Finn told us you don’t want to come,” said Zack as he walked in. It was her friends’ first time coming up to her apartment. They’d usually wait for her downstairs. “So we’re here to change your mind.” He didn’t look at her, too busy checking out her place. He was dressed for the night—a buttoned-up shirt, navy blazer, jeans and dress shoes. His casual chic style always stood out in the local bars filled with broke college students, but he liked it that way.

Finn walked in after him, a crooked grin on his lips. “See, I told you you can’t cancel Friday night.” His shaggy blond hair half-covered his eyes, as always. Finn and Zack had been best friends since high school, and couldn’t have been more different from each other. At least physically. Finn was tall and lanky, Zack was smaller and worked out a lot. But they were both party guys, always ready for a crazy night—even though Finn was a bit more mellow than Zack.

Finally, Alex came in, and Annabel closed the door behind him. He had a sheepish look on his face, as if apologizing for the other two. He was a lot more like Annabel. Quiet, chill, along for the ride—whatever it may be. His deep brown eyes held her gaze for a second too long, and Annabel noticed one of his eyebrow raise ever so slightly. She bit her lip, feeling self-conscious about her appearance. They’d never seen her in such a state before. Thank god she hadn’t had the energy to remove her makeup yet.

“So this is where you live, uh?” Zack said, sitting on her desk chair and spinning it around and around. “I like it. Dorms suck.”

Before she could reply, Finn tsked. “Wow. So no love for your roommate, uh?”

“Dude, I love you,” Zack said, “but between you and an apartment all to myself, the choice is obvious.” He stopped spinning and turned to Annabel, crossing his arms over his chest. “So what’s so important that you can’t come with us? Do you have a date?”

All three boys turned to her. Annabel almost laughed. Could they not see the condition she was in? She cleared her throat. “No, I’m just not feeling well.”

Finn sat on the edge of her bed and examined her from afar. “Like what? Stomach thing? Flu?”

“Probably a cold, I guess.” Annabel could feel Alex’s gaze on her at her side. She glanced at him, then looked down, feeling silly. Now that she was saying it out loud, it sounded like a poor excuse. But she did have a fever, after all. She just didn’t want to start listing her symptoms.

Zack clasped his hands together. “You know what will make you feel better? Alcohol!” He grinned, as if proud of his solution. “Didn’t they used to give brandy to people when they were sick? We’ll make a special mix for your throat. Something with lemon and orange juice. You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know, I already have a headache…” Annabel said.

“Just take a couple of Tylenol. It’s like a hangover in advance,” Finn said with an encouraging smile. “One time, I went out clubbing with an ear infection and everything was fine. Actually felt better the next day, weirdly enough.”

“I don’t know guys, I won’t be much fun if—” Annabel was interrupted by a fierce tickle deep in her nose, spreading like wildfire. She ducked to her side, away from Alex. “Ehh’KSSHeeew! ‘KSSSHeeew!”

“Bless you,” the three boys said almost in unison.

“See?” Annabel said, pointing at her nose and sniffling. “You want me to sneeze all over you guys all night?”

Finn shrugged. “We’ll bring tissues. Whatever.”

Alex walked over to the bathroom and grabbed the toilet paper roll from the counter, then handed it to her. “Here.”

Annabel ripped a piece off and wiped her nose. “Thanks,” she said, sheepish.

Alex’s gaze paused on her for a few seconds before he turned to the other two. “Guys, she’s obviously sick. Let’s just go and let her sleep.”

“It’s just a cold,” Zack said. “She’s young and healthy. It’s nothing.” He got up and put his arm around her shoulders. “Come on. Give it an hour, and if you’re not feeling better after a few shots, we’ll walk you home.”

Annabel considered it for a second, trying to fight the shivers. Maybe if she wore something warm and took a few shots, she wouldfeel better. Numb the pain a little, at least. While she pondered it, Finn laid down on top of her bed spread and locked eyes with the thermometer on her nightstand. He frowned and sat up, picking it up.

He looked at her, thermometer in hand. His voice softened. “It’s that bad, uh?”

Annabel blushed. Why did admitting that she had a fever feel so vulnerable? She looked down and nodded. “Kinda.”

Zack looked at the thermometer, then back at Annabel. He narrowed his eyes and put a hand on her forehead. “Ooof,” he said, a hint of concern slipping in his tone.

Finn got up. “Let me see,” he said, walking up to her and placing his own hand on her forehead. His eyebrows shot up. “Yikes.”

“Yeah, you need to be in bed,” Zack finally said, guiding her back to bed. “Why didn’t you say you had a fever? Jesus, Anna.”

She shrugged, sitting on her mattress. “I don’t know. I just get fevers with colds. I guess it’s normal for me.”

“Fevers suck,” Finn said. “Last time I had one, I stayed in bed for two days and everything hurt.” He walked over to the front door. “We’ll miss you tonight, though.”

Zack followed. “Hope you feel better. We’ll text you all the crazy shit that’s going to happen so you don’t miss anything.” He followed Finn out of the apartment, leaving the door open for Alex.

Alex watched them walk by, then grabbed the roll of toilet paper on the counter where Annabel had left it. He brought it over to her nightstand and gave her a sad smile. “Do you need anything?”

Annabel shook her head, relieved that she was going to be able to stay in bed. “I’ll be okay.”

He seemed to hesitate for a second, then nodded. “Let us know if you want us to get you food later. I know I can never sleep when I have a fever.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. Her nose scrunched up, overtaken by another annoying prickle. “Ehh… Iihh’KSSSHHeeww!”

“Bless you.”

Zack’s voice sounded from the hallway. “Alex, you coming?”

Alex snickered. “I guess I should go.” He walked to the door, then turned back. “Feel better, okay?”

“I will. Thanks.”

***

Annabel tried to sleep, but her fever and runny nose kept waking her up, leaving her floating halfway between dreams and reality. It was clear that she wasn’t going to get any rest in her state. She needed cold medicine.

It took her a long time to finally convince herself to get out of bed and go to the convenience store, but she managed to push the covers away and get up. She shivered, causing another tickle in her sensitive nose—it had only gotten worse in the hour since the boys had left. She ducked at the waist in an exhausting triple. “Ehh… Hehh’KSSSHeeeew! ‘KSSHHeeew! Hiihh’KSSHeeew!”

Just then, another knock sounded at the door. Annabel frowned and made her way to the door, cracking it open.

It was Alex. Alone.

“Bless you,” he said with a shy grin.

Annabel let him in. “Aren’t you supposed to be out with the guys?”

He shrugged, closing the door behind him. “I thought you might need this.” He showed her a plastic bag filled with tea, tissue boxes, ramen, cough drops and—she gasped—cold medicine.

Alex chuckled. “So I was right. You don’t have any medicine, do you?”

Annabel laughed. “How did you know?”

“Your nightstand. You only had a thermometer on there. When I’m sick, I take Nyquil everywhere I go.” He handed her the bag. “And I wanted to make sure you had tissues instead of toilet paper. Your nose will thank me.”

Annabel touched her chapped nose, smiling. “That’s so sweet of you. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” He stood there for a second, as if not knowing what to say. “I’ll uh—I’ll let you rest.”

Before he could go, Annabel put her hand on his elbow. “Wait. Do you want to—” She stopped halfway through her sentence, her nose scrunching up yet again, her eyes fluttering. She spun around and sneezed, covering her nose with the sleeve of her sweater. “Hehh’KSSHH! Ht’Ksshht!” She turned back around, blinking away the tears and laughing. “Sorry!”

Alex laughed, too. “Bless you.” He held her gaze, then looked down. “What were you going to say?”

“Oh—I was just wondering if��maybe if you’d like to watch a movie with me. I don’t think I can sleep until the medicine kicks in.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted saying them. Of course he didn’t want to watch a movie with her. This was Friday night. What kind of college guy wanted to hang out with a sick, sneezy, nose-drippy girl on a Friday night instead of getting drunk with his friends. “Sorry,” she added quickly, “I forgot that the guys are probably waiting for you. I guess I’m kind of loopy from the fever.”

Alex took a step forward and placed his hand on her forehead. The gesture was so gentle, so soft, that Annabel closed her eyes, appreciating the coldness of his palm on her hot skin.

“You are definitely burning up,” he half-whispered, frowning. “I was wondering if the guys were exaggerating. Guess not.”

Annabel bit her lip. “I’ll be okay after I take the medicine. You don’t have to stay.”

Alex removed his hand. “I do,” he blurted. “I mean, I do want to watch a movie with you. And stay.”

“Are you sure?” Annabel asked through her blossoming smile. “Aren’t you worried you’ll catch my cold?”

“Actually, I have a confession to make.” Alex led her to the bed and placed the content of his bag on her nightstand. “Last Friday, I kind of had a cold. It wasn’t as bad as yours, pretty minor, but… Zack convinced me to come out anyway and I—I think I might have given it to you. You drank out of my glass and I didn’t have time to stop you.” He looked at her, his eyes wide with guilt. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Annabel laughed. “I can’t believe Zack didn’t rat you out earlier. It would have been the perfect example of someone going clubbing with a cold and ‘being fine’ anyway.”

“He probably knew it was partly his fault that you’re sick and didn’t want to admit it.”

Annabel shook her head. “Well, you owe me a Friday night.” She got into bed and patted the spot next to her. “That means I get to pick the movies.”

Alex grabbed the throw blanket at her feet and draped it over her. “That sounds fair.” He walked over to the other side of the bed and settled next to her. “But when you fall asleep, I can’t guarantee I won’t change it.”

“Deal.”

After taking a dose of Nyquil, Annabel started the movie, snuggling under the blanket. She wondered what kind of crazy adventures Zack and Finn were getting themselves into. She expected to feel FOMO, but instead, she shot a glance at Alex next to her, and realized she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Maybe it was the fever, or maybe it was Alex’s shoulder touching hers, but it felt like this was the start of a different kind of adventure. Maybe not alcohol-fueled, but Nyquil was pretty close.

All because they’d shared a not-so-secret cold.

And Annabel had a feeling it would be worth the fever. And the countless sneezes to come.

THE END

#caretaking fic #care-taking fic #sneeze fic #sneeze kink #care-taking king #sickfic

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moral-turpitudes · 4 years ago

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Roses 🥀:

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Fluff, Mentions of an Age Gap (sort-of, nothing happens).

Word Count: 3,835

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader, Finn Shelby x Female!Reader

Requested: Yes

Requested by: @msbzowy, I apologize for it taking so long, this was such a joy to write!

Summary: Y/N is sent flowers from a secret admirer, making Thomas a bit jealous as he realizes he’s harbored feelings for her. Meanwhile, her admirer turns out to be none other than the youngest blinder, Finn Shelby.

The smell of roses filled the room as Thomas walked in, the soft petals strewn over the shop floors as the sun shined brightly through the dusty windows, giving an almost pink hue to the room.

As Thomas sat down in his office, the smell only grew stronger as he looked around, opening up every drawer to see them all stuffed with bouquets of roses. He frantically picked them out, throwing them on the ground harshly as the thorns pricked at his fingers, small traces of blood coming through the skin with the contact. As he threw them in the bin he noticed Y/N standing there, her face fixed in a permanent smile as she clutched what seemed to be a hundred roses, all wilting and wet. Her eyes were tired and her clothes were soaking as she stood there, the usual bustling around the shop becoming eerily silent as she stepped into the room, his brothers all following as they carried more wilted roses in their arms.

“Take these. Now.” She said in a menacing tone as she got closer, the rest of the blinders advancing towards him as he backed up against a bookshelf. His eyes fixed on Y/N as she stalked towards him. His breathing quickened as he reached out to take them from her, a piercing scream rang from the doorway as he did so. Polly was holding another bouquet in the doorway, her eyes boring into his as she stood there.

He looked around to see everyone’s faces plastered with wicked smiles as they watched him, all silent as the room grew from a pink hue to red, with only another piercing scream coming from Polly as the roses Y/N was holding plunged their way stem-first into his heart.

With a gasp, Thomas awoke. The air in the room seeming thick as he looked around the large bedroom. The sound of birds chirping and Charlie playing down the hall with the nanny as he got a grasp on his surroundings.

Once composed, he got ready, knowing he had to be at the shop soon. No matter how jarring a nightmare he had, the business never stopped, and so he had to continue even through the madness.

It had been a week since the first bouquet of red roses arrived at the shop, the mailman smiling as he placed it on Y/N’s desk near Thomas’ office.

“Oh these are lovely! Thank you!” She said, dismissing him to go about his deliveries. Polly coming over as curious as a cat.

“Who’s the admirer Y/N?” She asked, smelling one of the roses.

“Oh uh...well...it doesn’t say. There’s no note.” She said, fiddling with the flowers in search of one.

“Interesting. Well enjoy love. This is the most color the shop has seen since Christmas.” She said.

“Thanks Pol, I will.” She said, a genuine smile on her face as she placed them on the corner of her desk.

As the week went on though, the flowers became a regular occurrence. By Friday she’d had 5 bouquets lined up, almost to where she was hidden behind them.

“Who’s the lucky lad aye?” Thomas asked as he walked by, only taking a real interest after the third day the bouquet’s came, forever being oblivious to things that weren’t work related.

“I was going to ask you Tommy. I haven’t the slightest clue. It’s strange now though. I’ll have a whole rose garden by next week it seems.” She said with a light laugh that made Tommy’s heart do flips. She carefully cleared them off her desk to where they sat along the floor, hoping that would be the end of them.

“I’ll decorate the office with them, no use having them all here.” She said, grabbing two vases and placing one on Polly and Esme’s desks.

“Have fun with that. Just leave them out of my office though, love.” He said.

“No problem.” She said, retrieving the other two and placing them on Lizzie and Johns desks.

After the weekend flew by, Y/N hesitantly opened the door to the shop early that Monday morning to find another bouquet placed on her desk, a slight smile appearing on her face as she looked around the room.

“Christ. The poor lads in love.” Polly said as she walked in, seeing the bouquets placed on almost everyone’s desks.

“I still don’t know who it is though. Not a fucking clue Pol.” She said with a sigh.

“I’ll keep my eyes peeled this week. You do the same.” Polly said as she sat down, returning to the work she’d left from the week prior.

“Will do.” Y/N said, starting on her own paper work.

Thomas smirked as he walked in past her desk, Y/N not noticing as he went straight to his office. His suspicions started to grow with each passing day, eventually leading to the nightmare that he’d had later that week.

Thomas nervously went into his office later that Friday. It had been a week since the first onslaught of them, with no man in sight besides the delivery man. But something inside him made him feel something was off. The nightmare only fueling his anxiety as he thought about it.

“Pol, can I have a word?” He said from his doorway, his slender frame leaning out just so she could see him.

Polly nodded and came in, her head swimming with questions.

“This has to stop.” He said sitting at his desk, running a hand through his hair.

“What does Tom?” She asked.

“The roses. I can’t tell if someone’s trying to send me a message or a threat or what. Whoever it is they know where we are and what we do. And they somehow know when she’ll be in the office.” He said, his hatred for uncertainty shining through.

“I don’t think anyone’s after you or the company Tommy. If anything someone’s after her...not in a bad way though.” She said.

“What do you know about roses in dreams?” He asked, lighting a cigarette.

“You’ll have to be more specific.” She said, sighing as she got comfortable in one of the armchairs in the room.

“I had a nightmare...last night... where you were screaming, and everyone was holding wilted fucking roses and...Y/N stabbed me in the heart with them.” He said, the memory of it causing his brows to furrow.

“Well, in general roses are for affection, but if she stabbed you with them, that’s hard to say. But if they’re wilted...that could be a relationship ending...although I’m not sure one has even begun. If I were you I wouldn’t look into it too much.” She said, trying to console him.

“Why not?” He asked.

“It’ll only stress you out more. You don’t need that on you with everyone going on already. If she likes the person, I’m sure she’ll return the favor. Those roses probably weren’t cheap in the first place.” She said.

“Alright, well until then can you help get a family meeting together? I’m trying to see if we can narrow down who’s sending them. I don’t like that they know our business and hers.” He said.

“Okay. May I ask one thing?” She said, looking into her nephews eyes. She’s seen the look only a few times before.

“Are you jealous of this person? Perhaps the roses were for her not reciprocating your feelings.” She said.

Thomas chuckled as he took a drag from his cigarette, his eyes cutting away from Polly’s to stare out the window.

“If I was I would’ve found the lad wouldn’t I? I can’t control who she likes or who likes her.” He said.

“Well, you’re pretty involved for someone who isn’t jealous. I’ll see what I can do, but until then keep your eyes peeled. I’ve told Y/N to do the same.” She said.

“Alright.” He said, watching her leave as he blew out a puff of smoke. The dream still running circles through his mind.

Later that night Polly let everyone go early as she told Arthur and John of the family meeting, the other workers all filing out, including Y/N.

“Hey Y/N...” Thomas said, holding the door for her as she walked out of the shop.

“Yeah?” She asked, the cold air causing her to wrap her coat tightly around her as she stared into his ice-blue eyes.

“The roses haven’t been sent to your house have they?” He asked.

“No. Why?” She asked, clutching one of the smaller more recent bouquets.

“Good. I’m trying to look into who sent them.” He said.

“Oh, thank you. They were uh...sweet the first time ‘round but after two weeks it’s kind of concerning me.” She said, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips as she looked around.

“Me too. I’ll let you know if I find out anything alright?” He asked.

“Okay Tommy. Goodnight.” She said, turning away from him.

“Goodnight.” He said, watching her walk away down the cold streets. Something pained him to see her walking alone, suddenly walking towards her on a whim.

“Y/N wait!” He said loud enough so that she stopped.

“Would you...would you like me to walk you home?” He asked.

Y/N’s face heated up as she looked down, trying to hide it from him.

“Sure.” She said. Her heart racing in her chest as they continued down the narrow walkway.

She’d admired the man from afar for most of her employment, but never had the courage to talk to him more outside of work. He was a busy man and all and she knew he was notorious for nabbing various women, but here she was being walked home by the man who only recently started talking to her more as the hundreds of flowers trickled in.

“I have a peculiar question Tommy...” She said, as they neared her apartment.

“I may have a peculiar answer.” He said, smirking as he looked at her. Her eyes glinting in the setting sun as she turned to him.

“You weren’t the one who sent them were you?” She asked.

As much as he abhorred the thought of a hundred flowers, he wished he would’ve been the one sending them. Loving the way the color of the roses illuminated her skin. The way her smile grew at the sight of them. It was in these two weeks that he realized he should’ve sent them, even if he wasn’t one for flowers, he’d have filled the whole room with them just to see her smile.

With a hurt look in his eyes, he spoke. His answer slipping off his lips as he looked at her.

“No. Unfortunately I’m not one for many flowers. But I would’ve sent one at least. Whoever this was...clearly has me beat.” He said.

“Oh, well, if anything I hope you can find out who it was. Good luck with your search.” She said, unlocking her door.

“Oh and Tommy?” She asked as he turned around, her hair blowing slightly in the cool wind.

“Thank you for walking me back. It was nice to have your company.” She said, giving him a small smile as he nodded and resumed his walk back to the shop. His heart aching and angered at the same time. Someone out there had outdone him, and it was only a matter of time before he found out who.

Back at the shop, everyone gathered around the table as they chatted. Patiently waiting for Thomas and Finn as the sun finally set for the night. With a harsh slam of the door, Finn waltzed in, fingers bandaged as he looked at the roses on everyone’s desks.

“Oi! Where you been brother? Tommy’s called a meeting but hasn’t shown yet. We were wondering if you knew where he was.” Arthur said, causing all eyes to go to the young Shelby.

“Oh uh, I was at the stables. Helping the horses.” He said.

“Did they try to eat your fingers? Look at the bandages on them...” Polly said slowly uncovering them to see small red pricks of dried blood. Her smirk grew wide as she looked at him, his face paling as he realized he’d been caught quite literally red-handed at this point.

“Well aren’t you just a little Cupid!” She said. The others looking at the two like they had ten heads.

“The flowers....Finn sent them.” She said, sitting back proudly in her seat.

“Well well well...Finny boy has a crush aye?” John said slapping his younger brother on the shoulder.

“I’d say he has more than a crush. He’s in love.” Ada said teasingly.

Finn’s face flushed as red as a tomato, his heart racing as he sat down. Embarrassed that he’d picked so many for her.

“Right, so let me take a wild guess. It’s Y/N innit? You know she’s older than you right?” Arthur asked, smiling.

Finn sighed and ran a hand through his tousled hair, the pain from the thorns pricking him finally taking their toll.

“You’d have a promising job as florist brother...if the job with us doesn’t work out.” John said, earning a chuckle from the group.

“Well personally I think it’s cute...But Arthur’s right Finn. She’s much older than you. She didn’t even know who they were from, love.” Ada said.

“I should’ve just kept it to myself. No one would ever go for me anyway.” He said, a sullen tone to his voice. His heart felt like it was stabbed and crushed with the weight of a thousand bricks as he took in the reality of the situation. He’d only liked her from afar, never knowing how to approach her even though she was much older than him. It pained him to know a number held so much weight but it did, and no one could change that.

“Oh Finn...you’ll find someone. I know there’s many a girl your age at the shops down the street. Seems like that’s where they all go to hang out anyways besides the Garrison. I’ll tell Isiah to tag along with ya when I see him tomorrow how about that?” Polly asked, holding his hand.

Finn sighed again, knowing his crush had to end at some point. It’s why they called them crushes after all.

“Yeah...alright. I’ll go down there. I’ll throw those out later.” He said, gesturing to the flowers.

“You know what Finn? One thing ya did right though is you showed Tommy up. He practically had to chase her out the door to see who was sending them. He’s a bit jealous she has such an amazing admirer.” Ada said, a small smile on her face.

“Oh great. Tommy will kill me then aye?” He asked.

“Only one way to find out.” John said, pointing to the front door that swung open.

Thomas walked in, a frustrated look on his face as he neared the family.

“Aye Tommy where were ya?” Arthur asked, trying to hide a smile.

“Walking Y/N home. Speaking of that...I’d like to know if any of you know who’s been sending the fucking flowers? If it’s none of you then it’s some other man trying to drag us into something.” He said, lighting a cigarette as he sat down.

“I uh...I sent them Tom.” Finn said quietly, avoiding his gaze.

“What?” He asked.

“I...I sent the flowers. Bloody stupid of me aye?” He said, laughing at himself to lessen the blow.

“Ah...so...you’re her little admirer then...that’s cute.” He said, his tone low. Finn clutched his fists at his side as he nervously shifted in his seat.

“I’m serious Tom. I was stupid for even laying my eyes on her in the first place. Didn’t know she was older than me by that much.” He said, wanting to run out of the shop and never look back.

“Well, a little brotherly advice Finn. If you’re going to send a girl roses, make sure they’re you’re age and make sure you only send one bouquet alright? 10 were a bit....” Tommy said trailing off.

“Desperate.” John said, Tommy smirking and pointing at him.

“Aye, desperate.” He said, blowing a puff of smoke from his lips.

“So is this meeting over then? Am I free to go? I’d say we solved the fucking case.” Finn said.

“Yes it is. Everyone can go. Except you Finn. I want to talk to ya.” He said.

Finn rolled his eyes and stayed seated as everyone got up to leave. The shop soon turning eerily silent.

“You gonna shoot me or just laugh like all the others?” Finn asked.

“Neither. I would’ve done the same thing at your age.” He said.

“I don’t buy it. You just can’t stand the fact I did something about her before you could, right?” He asked.

Thomas pulled a chair up near him, his blue eyes staring into his.

“You did beat me to it I give you that. I just wouldn’t have sent her a hundred of them.” He said.

“She obviously likes you more though Tommy....I’ve seen the way she looked at ya when the flowers came in. I should’ve known then I guess.” He said, growing done with the conversation. Wanting to desperately run to the comforts of the Garrison.

Thomas sighed as he sat back in his chair, the sadness in his little brothers eyes reminiscent of his own many moons ago.

“Look, brother. I’m not mad alright? I’ve eyed the wrong people before and it hurt almost as much as being stabbed. You’ll find someone though alright? I’ll see to that if need fucking be.” He said.

“I’m just embarrassed I even liked her.” Finn said, fiddling with the bandages on his hands.

“We can’t always help who we like or who we love Finn. But we can always find someone for us. You’ll find her. I promise.” He said.

“You never make promises Tommy.” He said, looking at the floor.

“I only makes ones that I know will be true. With a mug like yours you’ll find someone. I bet tomorrow someone will walk in and you’ll be picking roses for them for the rest of your life.” He said with a small smile.

Finn chuckled as he got up, adjusting his cap.

“So she likes you then?” He asked.

“I think so. I’ll understand if you hate me.” Tommy said, taking a drag from his cigarette.

“Just don’t break her heart. I can see she has one at least.” Finn said.

“I won’t. But I may need help with a bouquet soon.” Tommy said.

Finn smirked and shook his head.

“No. My work is done. That’s up to you now Tommy. Good luck with Y/N though alright? I’ll come by tomorrow and pick all of them up before she comes in. Save myself the embarrassment.” He said.

“I got it brother. Just tell her tomorrow.” He said.

“You mean you won’t?” Finn asked.

“No, that’s your business.” He said.

“Alright.” He said, heading towards the door.

“Where are you going this late Finn?” Tommy asked.

“To the Garrison, I need a drink.” He said.

“Take one of the these fucking roses will ya. Who knows, you may need it.” He said.

Finn plucked one from a vase nearby, tipping his cap to him on the way out.

With a long sigh Thomas looked around at all the vases, there seemed to be almost as many as there were in his nightmare, but at least this part had a somewhat happy ending, even if in the end it was Finn who got stabbed in the heart with rose stems. But it was only a matter of time before something worked out for the youngest Shelby.

The next morning Y/N made her way in to the shop, the thought of seeing another bouquet making her cringe as she opened the door. To her surprise the shop was empty, all except for one bouquet on her desk.

“Morning Y/N.” Finn said quietly, startling her slightly.

“Oh hi Finn! How are you love?” She asked.

“Good...I uh...wanted to tell you something.” He said, nervously putting his hands in his pockets.

“Of course, what is it?” She asked, leaning against her desk. Thomas was eyeing their interaction from his office, smirking to himself as he watched Finn doing one of the hardest things he’s had to do since taking a bullet to the arm.

“I uh...sent you all those roses. Tommy thought it would be best if I told you, seeing as it worried you. I-I liked you for a while and didn’t really know what to do about it and so I may have went overboard on the flowers. I’m sorry.” He said quickly, Y/N looking at the floor with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Finn...” she said quietly.

“I appreciate them. So so much alright? I just....my heart is somewhere else and I’m also older. Don’t get me wrong you’re very charming. I think all the Shelby’s can learn something from you. But just know I don’t feel the same way. I do appreciate them though, it’s probably the sweetest thing that I’ve ever gotten. So thank you.” She said, giving him a small hug.

“I figured that...but it’s fine. I’m happy they made you happy. It’s alright though. I uh, may have met someone else anyway.” He said, his cheeks flushing.

“Oh really? Who’s the lucky lady?” She asked.

“Someone I met last night. I went to the Garrison.” He said.

“I’m happy for you. You’ll have to tell Tommy.” She said, eyeing his office.

“Oh no it’s fine I’m sure he won’t-“ Finn started to say as Tommy walked out.

“Aye Finn! How’d the Garrison go?” He asked, walking near Y/N and holding her hand. He never did that in public really but with the shop being almost empty on a Saturday he figured why not. To his surprise she actually did it back, making his heart race slightly.

“It-it was good. I told Y/N about my attempt at trying to win her over.” He said chuckling at his efforts.

“I see. Did you manage meet anyone last night?” He asked.

“Actually yeah....she’s nice...kind of like Y/N. She’s a florist matter of fact. Turns out she eyed me at the shop when I’d bought some last week. I’m going to see her today, if that’s okay with you and Pol.” He said nervously.

“Of course. Don’t get into too much trouble though, I really don’t want to pull a bullet out your arm later.” He said.

“Finn, wait!” Y/N said, breaking free from Tommy’s hand to hand Finn the roses that were left.

“Take these. She’ll love them.” She said.

“Alright. Thanks you two. Don’t you both go getting into trouble either. I’d rather not have to come back in to work today.” He said.

“Oh I can’t promise that.” Tommy said, smirking at Y/N.

“Oh fuck off Tom.” He said, chuckling and quickly leaving the shop. His heart racing as he ran to the girl meant for him. Finally healing from the past with each step he took.

Thomas Shelby Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx,

@lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore, @xxbeckybeexx-blog

Finn Shelby Tag List:

@ajwantstohavefun, @inglourious-imagines, @reveparade, @ta-ka-shi-ma

If you’d like to be added/removed just send an ask or message! :)

#msbzowy #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders oneshots #thomas shelby #finn shelby #thomas shelby x y/n #finn shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x female!reader #finn shelby x female!reader #katiesrequests

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rocorambles · 4 years ago

Text

Finding Home

Pairing: Terushima x Reader

Prompt: Mythology

Genre: SFW, Fluff, Slight Angst, Greek Mythology AU, Dionysus!Terushima, Human!Reader

Summary: Terushima has never liked winter, the land too barren to produce his prized grapes, the weather too harsh for the merrymaking he’s known for. But maybe, just maybe, a certain mortal can help change his perspective.

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s SFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this prompt. (Masterlist goes live Friday, March 12th!)

Terushima has never really belonged here and even after centuries and lifetimes, he doesn’t feel any more a part of Olympus than when he first joined the ranks of the gods and goddesses above as Dionysus, protector of misfits.

He scoffs at the title. How fitting when he himself is a misfit among the beings of Olympus, the son of a mortal mother, a “human-lover” (a title he’s actually quite fond of despite the disdain and judgement tainting it when spoken by those around him). Ironic when he dares say most of his fellow divine beings have had more than their fair shares of “loving humans”. It’s how he was created himself after all and he scowls at the thought of the handsome brunette who he unfortunately is forced to call father.

One would think that with all the affairs Zeus, or Shittykawa as he prefers to refer to him as, nickname courtesy of Poseidon, is off and about having, the king of the gods wouldn’t be so stringent and watchful over his kingdom above. But as free with his affection as he is, Oikawa is a stickler for tradition and Terushima sighs as he enters the gates of Olympus, plastering his trademark cocky grin on his face as he greets his family.

It’s ironic really how Oikawa insists on these family reunions considering how they hardly really consider each other family. But no one dares to disobey and they all force themselves through the polite small talk, extravagant meals, and elegant parties, everything so detailed and beautiful yet cold, much like their organizer, and Terushima skin practically crawls at how different this is from his much more impassioned festivities, never used to how restrained the manners of Olympus are despite how many of these he has attended.

But it’s not all so terrible and this time he doesn’t fake his wide toothy grin when two beings burst into his quarters late at night.

He’s not foolish enough to believe Apollo and Ares are the strapping gods they’re portrayed to be, knowing too well just how monstrous and terrifying the two can be, knowing the atrocious acts they’ve committed. But as brothers? As fellow gods? They make Olympus bearable and that’s more than can be said for anyone else. So he sets aside their differences temporarily, humming along to the sound of Apollo’s music, laughingly joking that his talent for songs is the only reason women and goddesses look past the rooster-like mess on top of his head. He drinks goblet after goblet of mead with Ares in an attempt to see who can outdrink the other this time around, not stopping until his vision is so blurred that he can hardly tell if it really is Ares in front of him or a large owl with vaguely human features.

But as soon as sunlight begins filtering in marking a new day and the end of his forced return, he’s quick to bid farewell, nose diving back down to Earth and immediately feeling more at peace as he lands in a flourishing rice field, slowly making his way to the quaint home just ahead.

It’s an admittedly strange camaraderie, the friendship between the God of Chaos and a demi-god son of Demeter, but Terushima’s heart swells with fondness when he sees Kita sifting through the grains of his latest harvest, chuckling at the slightly quirked lips on the other’s usually impassive face when he sees the blonde making his way towards him.

He knows the other Olympus immortals find it strange how he prefers to spend most of his time on Earth, whispering and spreading rumors about the strange god who so easily casts aside the splendor of Olympus for the humble life and home of a farmer, who prefers to idle his days away with humans and a demi-god rather than his own much more powerful and esteemed family up above. And he knows even Kita has his doubts and disagreements with the wild debauchery and havoc he wreaks upon the mortal world, preferring his mother’s more wholesome ways of providing and caring for humans.

But both of them are tied by their kindness and benevolence towards mankind, frowning upon the hostility, cruelty, and selfishness the other gods and goddesses subject humans to. And Kita never says a word against Terushima, knowing that even if they aren’t methods he understands or condones, Terushima’s rituals and revelries bring joy, provide an escape, take away the suffering of mortals, even if only temporarily.

Besides, the demi-god is far too busy with helping Demeter prepare for the harvest to really pay much mind to Terushima’s antics, flitting here and there as he helps ensure the earth is fertile, making sure grains and seeds are plentiful, working seamlessly alongside Terushima as the god of wine cheerfully goes about making sure there’s more than an adequate amount of ripe grapes and fruits for wine making and merriment.

As far as Terushima is concerned, Olympus can keep its cold splendor. Here is where he was meant to be, thriving in the heat and brilliant light of the sun, sighing in content as he pops grape after grape in his mouth, the sweet juices coating his mouth as he watches the humans in amusement as they excitedly crush the small fruits, making the beverage he had shown their ancestors long ago how to create.

And then the harvest is officially upon them and Terushima joyfully cheers as his followers indulge in the delicious nectar of their hard work, wine sloshing from cups as music blares, the earth resounding with raucous ecstatic celebrations and the stomping of feet as mankind wildly dances and jumps around.

It’s a wild frenzy and Kita slightly winces at the chaos that has overtaken the world, but it’s hard not to look on in affection and amusement as the humans and his dear friend enjoy themselves, finding temporary freedom and escape from the restraints of society. So he lets them be, spending time with his mother as she also enjoys the festivities of her followers (albeit much more demure), glad to see both Terushima and her in high spirits, knowing the hardest part of the year for both of them is just around the corner.

A practical person might scoff at Demeter’s extreme reaction every time Hades comes to retrieve her daughter, but there’s nothing rational about a mother’s love and the world turns dead and cold as the goddess grieves and mourns the loss of her daughter, even though she knows it’s only temporary.

Terushima sighs at the cold white snow and ice that blankets the barren grounds, feeling his own vitality drain from him when the majority of the revelries come to an end as the humans prepare for the harsh winter months ahead. He hates the mortal world when it’s like this, finding the cold quiet far too similar to Olympus and he sulks, retreating and staying put inside his shared abode with Kita, impatiently waiting for Persephone to return to her mother so that the world can defrost and resume.

Kita is patient at first, alternating between checking in on his mother and Terushima, ensuring both great gods of the Earth are alive and well. Although “well” is a relative term and the demi-god sighs at how both their depression and grief permeate throughout the world, adding an icier edge to the already brutal atmosphere. However even his patience has a limit and though he doesn’t dare disrespect his mother, he shoves at least the god of the vine out the door, shooing him towards the nearest town and telling him not to return until he’s in a better mood.

The blonde listens, albeit reluctantly and with a few muttered grumblings, but it’s a nice distraction, wandering around and masquerading as a human. And although he’s not in the mood to join in, he appreciates how advanced civilizations and technology have become, allowing those brave enough to face the harsh frigid weather to frolic at bars, even if it means being bundled in layers and layers of winter clothing. It isn’t anything near as rambunctious and lively as the harvest season, but he feels his mood lighten as the streets are roused by drunken and rowdy crowds, laughter and cheer filling the cold air.

Feeling more himself after a few hours of amusedly observing from afar, a steaming mug of mulled wine in his hands, he begins to turn around and make his way back home only to be interrupted as someone crashes into him and instincts have him catching you as you tipsily stumble and giggle in his arms. He can smell the sweet scent of wine rolling off of you in waves and he fights back the urge to laugh as you sloppily smile, clinging onto him for dear life as you try and steady yourself on wobbly legs while you simultaneously thank your hero for saving you.

Humans really are the most adorable things sometimes.

He’s a bit apprehensive about just leaving you when you’re in such a state, but he relaxes when your friends rush to your aid, profusely apologizing to him as he carefully hands you over to them and he just waves them off, telling them to have fun as he makes to walk away again. But he’s stopped by your hands still holding tight to him.

“Come party with us!”

This time he does laugh as one of your friends angrily admonishes you for your behavior and he gently tries to loosen your grip on him, telling you empty promises of “maybe next time”. But he freezes when one of your hands he’s managed to unhook from him softly rests on his cheek and he chokes at the genuine concern in your eyes despite the drunken haze in them.

“You look so sad...Please stay? Maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

The words are childish and slurred, yet Terushima is moved by the pure intentions he can sense in the syllables, drawn in by the heart and love he can feel pouring from you. All his life he has cared for others, cared for the world. But when was the last time someone had cared for him? When was the last time he had allowed someone to care for him?

So in a moment of weakness he allows himself to let go of his responsibilities, his duties, his own walls and rules he had created to maintain a distance from the mortals he oversees in an effort to avoid dragging them into the messes caused by diving beings, to make sure no one else is subjected to what his own mortal mother suffered through because of Oikawa’s selfish desires.

It’s ironic how little a god known as the liberator allows himself to be free, usually preferring to watch from afar and not partake in the frenzied chaos of his followers. But tonight he joins in, entangling himself among the throngs of bodies moving to the vibrating pulses of echoing music and beats, submitting to the wild energy around him, pretending just for a moment that he’s finally found where he belongs.

You make it easy for him to believe he’s found a new home, a place he’s accepted, and even amidst the blinding lights and smoky haze, you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever met, your liveliness, energy, and humanity far outshining any of the gods or goddesses he knows. There’s nothing reserved or distant about you, no feeling of someone keeping up pretences or a front. You’re just...you and he knows even without the help of liquid courage you’ve generously doused yourself with tonight, that you wouldn’t be all that different.

Maybe a little less handsy and definitely quieter (he subtly winces when you practically shout in his ear asking if he wants another drink). But the genuine warmth and kindness he can feel radiating from you? Your easy and uninhibited acceptance of him? That’s just who you are and he allows himself to find temporary comfort in this new sense of belonging you make him feel.

Despite how he’s sworn to never rope a human into the twisted world of immortals, for the first time in his life, he feels the temptation to break the promise he had made to himself all those centuries ago.

But it’s a pipe dream and as dawn’s light begins to peek through the night sky and clubs and bars close shop, reality comes crashing down on him. He remains steadfast in his beliefs, promising himself that he’ll leave and forget all about you as soon as he’s made sure you’re safely tucked in bed despite the desperate pleas and cries of his heart. And he grits his teeth as he fights to ignore his desires.

He’s stronger than this. He’s better than this. Above the immoral lust his family is infamous for. Above the preying ways of Oikawa.

Or so he’d like to believe.

But he can’t help himself from sitting at your bedside, gazing down at your peaceful face, finding comfort in your deep even breaths as sleep overcomes you, telling himself that he’ll be just another minute, over and over again, until he’s forced to his feet hours later as you begin to rise. And as he makes his escape before you can awaken and see him, he knows that he’ll never be able to fully forget you.

Sometimes Kita is far too observant for his own good and Terushima groans when he’s immediately pinned down by curious knowing eyes as soon as he walks through the front doors. But he’s never been good at keeping his thoughts to himself and he rambles, spilling every little detail (probably too many details) to the demi-god who patiently listens and brews a pot of soothing hot tea that Terushima greedily grabs and indulges in as he recounts the night.

Kita holds his own cup to his lips, hiding the smile playing on his face as the god talks about you, sharp eyes noting the unusual softness in Terushima’s eyes and quietness of his voice as he speaks about you, describing you so perfectly Kita can almost imagine exactly what you look like from his words alone.

But his smile turns into a thoughtful flat line at the sadness in the usually exuberant voice as the blonde tries to lightly wave it off and convince himself that it’s all in the past now, just another mortal he’s happened to interact with in his long life before breaking off into an awkward silence.

“Terushima, not all relationships between gods and mortals are doomed and cursed.”

Kita rolls his eyes as the other begins to squawk and flail his arms as he recounts some of the most tragic relationships in Olympus history to prove him wrong, quickly cutting him off after another languid sip of his hot beverage.

“So do you think the union between my parents was also a mistake?”

The demi-god smirks as Terushima squirms in his seat, floundering for words, weakly clarifying that he meant the majority, not all.

“Exactly. Not all relationships between gods and mortals are destined for failure and we all know you’re certainly not like most gods. So if anyone were to beat those odds, I’d say it would have to be you.”

Kita Shinsuke does not mince words. He does not care to flatter even the most supreme beings with unwarranted and undeserved pleasantries. He only calmly speaks his truth. So despite how casually the words are thrown, as if the demi-god was just mentioning the weather or how his day was, Terushima gapes at his long-time friend, letting the true weight of their meaning sink in.

Not like most gods.

Terushima has been called an outsider by both gods and humans alike his entire life, but for once, the title feels like something to be proud of, to hold his head up high and triumphantly proclaim, and he blinks back the tears threatening to slip from the corner of his eyes as he shakily returns the warm smile on Kita’s face, choking out a laugh between his sniffles at the demi-god’s next words.

“You’re not your father, Terushima. Don’t let Zeus- What does Poseidon call him these days? Ah yes, don’t give Shittykawa the satisfaction of ruining your chance at love and happiness.”

It’s startling, absurd really, to hear the foul nickname from Kita’s usually polite and mannerly mouth, but it drives home his point that much more and almond eyes glint with steely resolve.

If Kita notices how Terushima rarely spends the night in their shared home anymore despite how he’d practically hibernated in his room during past winters, he doesn’t say anything.

If he notices how much more energetic and boisterous the god is despite the barren lands and frigid weather that would normally have dampened his spirits, he doesn’t comment on it.

And if he just happens to accidentally meander around town and see a familiar blonde figure whose hand is interlaced with a mortal woman’s hand, he chalks it up to pure coincidence and certainly not because his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

Kita Shinsuke is not nosy, even if the pictures he secretly takes of the couple and proudly develops, frames, and gifts to the god of wine during the holidays that year say otherwise.

It’s Terushima’s favorite and only gift he’s ever received during the human holiday season (although that quickly changes after he makes things official with you) and the first thing he hangs up on the walls of your shared bedroom years down the line when you move in together.

And as he holds you in his arms and fondly smiles at the photos on the wall, reminiscing on the beginning of this joint journey with you, he thinks that winters aren’t so bad after all, affectionately kissing the top of your head as you snuggle and squirm closer to his body heat, slightly jostled by him adjusting and retucking both of you back in your warm and cozy blanket cocoon protecting you from the chilly air.

He waits for you to settle back into a restful slumber before letting his own eyes drift shut once again, melting into the bedsheets and embrace of a place and person he can finally call home.

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #terushima x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader #terushima #terushima yuuji #terushima yuji x reader

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ringmyheart · 4 years ago

Note

Can I request Vin Jin boyfriend headcanons and some fluff? (You don't have to force yourself)

(This and the other vin jin rq were merged!)

Honestly the way I see it, it doesn’t matter if you’re a very calm person or outgoing person. No matter what this relationship is gonna end up being considerably chaotic

He ropes you into everything he does. Doesn’t matter if u r a design student or an architecture student or if ur on the opposite side of the school from him, u r practically in his class. Dating him is like signing a contract sealing away ur own life bc he makes it a point to be ALWAYS w u

In class he doesn’t gaf if the teacher has ur seat on the other end of class, he is somehow finding a way to sit next to u against ur will or not. And when the teacher moves u two away from eachother INTENTIONALLY bc of this, he is threatening whoever happened to sit next to u to trade seats w him. He will go as far as to dress up as them to make it look like they’re them to be next to u and he’s so dramatic ab it.... being away from u felt like u were star crossed lovers whom the world was fiercely against

And if UR against this cuz ur tired of getting in trouble in class, or if you reject any of his advances, he’s gonna be really, really, really offended. He will at first sputter and be kinda shy and embarrassed about it, before he goes “fine! Have fun on your own without me, the greatest thing in your fucking life!”

He move seats back and will glare at you periodically every five minutes to pavlov dog you so that every five minutes every day, even when he’s not there, you feel the burning stare of vin jin

If you’re his s/o, he’ll buy you a matching pair of sunglasses so ur the freshest looking couple around Seoul (they’re hideous and thick but he thinks u look fly)

The glasses don’t have nearly as many layers as his does for himself so u can see, and u wonder how he managed to make them just as bulky and if he did it on purpose to sabotage u. Like “did u make my glasses purposefully ugly so no one else will want me?”

U have to dodge a punch after saying anything like that ab his fashion decisions LMAOAO

He’s rlly proud of u two matching. With the glasses and anything in general. He’ll make you wear a jacket matching his, or the same shoes and he will stop people in the hall and be like “wait. Notice anything cool ab us today?? Cooler than normal??”

And when they don’t respond he boasts “that’s right!! Me and my other half r matching. Look at us and weep, losers.” He thinks u two look so good....... if ur enthusiastic ab wearing matching things too he is elated u have to pray that tomorrow he won’t show up w another “if lost return to Vin Jin” “I’m Vin Jin” pair of jackets or anything of the like bc it happens SO OFTEN

And on the topic of sharing when it’s cold he likes to share jackets and blankets w u. Ur desks r moved by eachother by vin jin himself and u two share one blanket over u and shiver bc he just likes it, sharing w u plus he’s slightly warmer. And yes if you guys had indivizual blankets you would be warmer, but u guys have to struggle together he doesn’t care what anyone says (yes even ur protests ur sharing that one blanket wether he has to wrap it around u himself and tear up the one u brought on ur own or what”

He is so blind in love that he cannot tell when u guys suck at stuff. Like if ur in the wrong he doesnt care ur RIGHT and he’s taking that to the grave. He can belittle u and call u out but if someone else says ur in the wrong it’s on sight

Will die protecting ur name even when ur the one who was genuinely wrong

He forces u to make a beat for him to rap to. He loves rapping and wants to enjoy it w u, so ur forcefed YouTube videos of how to beatbox so u can be his bgm and eventually u probably just start to enjoy it to

And u always start a beat and he starts busting out rhymes and it’s SO BAD. It doesn’t matter if ur good at beatboxing if vin Jin is on the track w u it’s gonna sound terrible he brings the quality down immensely but u two just cannot tell

Like after a two session ur like “omg... that was so good. We should go pro?” “Fuck yea we should we’re better than those posers” “we could rlly make it in the industry fr” no u absolutely could not

During the school festival, u sang with him and it was SO bad. Half the crowd is gonna have 2 be hospitalized but u two had FUN up on the stage

Like I said, he has absolute faith in u. All u do is right. If ur driving a car for the first time, he is going to be ur little hype man doesn’t matter if u suck. U hit a curb and he went “YES babe!! Ur killing it cant wait till u hit the road bby” Ur not allowed to touch a car for the next two years now bc he kept cheering u on when u we’re doing CLEARLY wrong things

On a plane u r looking for the bathroom like pensively and u see a handle and look back and r like “is this it???” And vin jin thinking u r all righteous will go “yea babe go for it” and u open it and u depressurizate the cabin immediately

Now both on like 5 no fly lists

He loves to do things with u, like I mentioned earlier, and things he wouldn’t do alone he’ll do w u. Like drawing alone?? Boring. Drawing w Y/N??!!! Who knows what could happen..... so much fun could ensue. Maybe he will draw u cutely. Maybe he will draw u so ugly u will be forced to engage in a fight.

He likes to play just dance w u and compete for the “greats/all star!” Little titles above, and it becomes like a Friday night ritual for u two to turn just dance on and just go at it. But sometimes he’ll get too intense and suddenly he’s actually fighting for the chance to beat u. Will trip u so u lose on purpose

He makes u listen to him sing and rap to u. And u try to leave and he hugs tightly and is like LISTEN IFS FOR U, DONT BE UNGRATEFUL and now u have to listen

He makes u a mixtape of songs he made himself and they are all considerably worse than “remember the times we had”. It’s uploaded on SoundCloud and all the comments r hate and u listen to it a lot bc u know he loves u sm he made u a mixtape ya ur gonna play that but everyone else hates it w a passion

Like the comments r like:

Daniel: well.... it’s definitely a song 😅 I’m glad you love (y/n) so much!

Duke: he’s not making it out the hood 😐

Zach: never let this man in a studio AGAIN

Mary: this should’ve stayed in the CD

(Y/N): love it! 😍

Zoe: kill your producer 💀

Mira: ...

He’s overprotective too

If someone looks at u for more than a second he’ll go “what?? U think she is hot, huh? I’ll kick ur ass fucking perv.... cmon babe let’s go”

Will throw his arm around u and streer u the opposite way of any potentially good looking ppl to keep ur eyes on him

Oh Daniel is coming?? What a coincidence u and vin Jin suddenly have to turn the corner to the other way of ur classroom for some reason

Eli is near?!!! Oh no u just got milk spilt in ur eye!! Oh no now he has to wipe ur eyes and u two have to leave the cafeteria whatever will he do

It’s not that he doesn’t have faith in u, he doesn’t have faith in other men. Like he thinks they r all competition, and doesn’t doubt ur loyalty rather doubts how good he can b for u

WILL beat someone up for u. If someone smokes while ur around suddenly his fists r swinging at them cuz even if u smoke or vape urself no one else can get that stuff in ur lungs but YOU or HIM!!

If ur crossing the street and a car almost hits u, it’s the cars fault and he’s kicking the license plate and cursing it out for almost touching u “stupid fucking piece of metal”

Is the type of boyfriend to call u when he knows ur in an Uber and be like “babe u got ur gun w u right?? Oh don’t forget ur BOMB and ur MACHETE!! Yeah just left the house I killed some ppl nbd haha anyways HRU what’s ur Uber driver like” so the driver of ur car won’t even think ab kidnapping u. He has got ur back even when u do not want it

He doesn’t want u to see his eyes, so he’ll tell you to look away so he can take his glasses off and look at u in full color in all ur glory but he never tells u WHY he’s telling u to look away u think it’s a weird thing of his, or he’s insecure ab his face which is partially true but really he’s taking his glasses off and just looking at u. Adoringly.....

He hates PDA. He loves PDA. Do u see his dilemma

Like he loves PDA but doesn’t want anyone seeing him vulnerable even u.... so he’ll hold ur hand and be like “EWWW WHAT R U DOING GET YR HAND OFF MINE”

If u take the lead THATS best bc he can blame it on u and it’s ur fault he HAS to lock fingers w u cuz u did it to him first and he has an excuse to touch u and v like u started this im just sending u ur own energy back 😤

The type to be just like blind, overwhelmed in love. Always thinks ab u, always wants to be w u, worries ab u a lot and frets over u without showing it.... he hates it and loves it to death. Despises it but wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world

Eats lunch w u in the cafeteria and if u sit w someone else u r the ultimate traitor and he will trash talk u to hide his hurt to Mary the entire lunchtime. Kinda possessive.... wants u to also only think about him

WOULDNT EVER fight u for real. Play fights occur VERY often, like pillow fights, tripping ur foot when u say a joke insulting him, grabbing ur collar but he would sooner die than lay a finger on u

Verbal fights happen a lot and if he ever like LOSES it he may lash out and almost hit u and follow thru. I don’t think he’d be able to catch himself that quickly, and if he ever did he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Literally until the day dies he will take it to his grave

He may not sputter out apologieswill just look at u incredulously and then at his hands because what had he done? What did he just do? To you???????? (Y/n))))?????? His (y/n)??? Light of his life?

Will apologize probably over text or through a note or call, and if u don’t respond he is consumed by regret and tries to find u instantly like runs back to ur place

If u forgive him he feels bad still, because does he deserve it? And he might just isolate himself for a bit bc he can’t face u and if it left a scar he is dead inside. It kills him, literally

I could go on w this but I’ll probably save it for another separate pair of hcs later 😭

If u guys ever break up he will fight for u again and won’t stop till ur back together like flowers in ur locker every day, chocolate give during lunch, etc. He wont ever give up hope that he can win u over again and be w u again. He would keep trying, when he wakes up his first thought is ur name in a cold panic bc he can’t rest easy till ur his again and he will try and show off and poorly serenade u and trash his price and be corny and cheesy to get u back

Will set up a performance w the school to let him rap w a mic during lunch for u and he’s saying bars like “(read in bad rapping voice w inconsistent beat) (y/n), love of my life, uh, without you I’d die, uh. Please won’t you take me back? Yuh, without you ima have a heart attack. (Wha!). (Y/n), love of my life, yeah, without you I’m in strife, yup! Please be mine again, (babe), I can never rest till then.”

If the embarrassment doesn’t make u take him back so he’ll pls stop, and when he stands up on the lunch tables to do a little performance doesn’t do it either, then the odd sincerity of his voice and pain in his look (even tho while rapping he sticks out his lower lip in a weird pout) definitely, hopefully will

U make everything worth it !! Truly the light of his life

I hope these were what u wanted, I just had fun w them and wrote stuff that came off the top of my head when I thought of VJ!! ❤️

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tpwkjerii · 4 years ago

Text

as you wish | 4

your one true love was lost in a pirate accident five years ago, and now you’re engaged to a cruel prince. with all your misfortune, you didn’t expect three unconventional thugs and a painfully familiar pirate to save you from a dreadful future. (inspired by The Princess Bride)

pairing: pirate!seokjin x princess!reader

warnings: fluff and angst (!!), reader is forced into engagement and becoming a princess, mentions of death, murder threats, mentions of tourture, cursing, jin isn’t in this part much (but he will be in the next one!!), hobi is the best person ever, dungeon/imprisonment, not rlly proofread 🗿

genre: fairy tale/pirate au, semi established relationship au

word count: 4.2k+

a/n: second to last part oooo. sorry that this is late - exams suck :(( i hope you guys like this part!! pls leave comments/likes as they always help me improve <33

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The silence was deafening. For a while, once both sides saw each other, no one made an effort to move.

You froze by Jin’s side and gripped his arm so tightly you worried it would hurt him, but Jin paid no mind to it as he guarded you with his tall figure.

Donghae and his soldiers rested stone-faced atop their armored horses, their swords hanging idly from their waists or backs. In those few moments, the Prince had an indiscernible facial expression. His eyebrows and eyes were relaxed as if he was nonchalant about the entire situation, but his lips were pursed into a firm line that suggested otherwise.

Another testament to your unfortunate engagement: even after two years of being his “fiancee”, you had no idea how to truly read Donghae. He was terrifying in that sense — the constant unreadability of his face and deceiving tone his voice carried kept everyone around him, including you, on their toes. One word could set off the crown prince, and his power could unleash a fiery wrath that most people trembled at the thought of.

His intense gaze on you and the slight quirk in his brow when your lips quivered in fear signified that he was waiting for you to speak first. Ironically, this was the first time he had ever been so courteous as to let you talk first.

You swallowed harshly and gathered every ounce of will in you to step out from behind Seokjin’s protective body and instead guard him. Pushing his urgent hands, desperate to pull you behind him again, away, you straightened your stance. With a clear and steady voice, you said, “If you promise not to hurt Seokjin, I’ll go with you.”

Donghae smiled terrifyingly at you, ready to unleash the venom of his lips. “You speak and bargain like you have a choice to go with me or not.”

Your eyes met his sharp ones. “You may think that you have the upper hand, Donghae,” you paused, taking a fleeting glance back at Jin, “but I promise you that you will regret every day you spend walking on this planet if you hurt Seokjin.”

The crown prince scoffed and turned to face the soldier next to him. “My bride seems to care an awful lot about another man, doesn’t she?” He turned towards you as he spoke the last two words.

It was your turn to scoff in disbelief. You didn’t even think about the words as they escaped you. “Don’t act like there was ever love in this wretched communion.”

Donghae’s eyes darkened as he absorbed your words. He felt the gaze of his soldiers, who were watching the tense interaction, burning on him. “Fine. Seokjin,” Donghae spit the name bitterly, “leaves freely, and you come with me.”

In one swift move, he kicked the side of his horse, advanced towards you and Seokjin, and tugged you to the side of the tall horse.

“Y/N, no!” Jin cried, instantly drawing his sword. The surrounding soldiers did the same, and the harsh sound of the molded steel brushing against their metal sheaths unsettled you.

“Jin, stop!” Your feet move and your arm extends in an attempt to reach him, but you’re quickly wrenched back by Donghae. “Please!” you shout, your eyes meeting his in a panic as the soldiers circled him, their swords pointed right at him.

The look that you shared told several sentences at once; a connected gaze of pure desperation. You begged him silently, begged him to give up before you lost him and he lost you for good. With great sadness, he understood.

“As you wish,” he whispered, voice barely audible to you, and dropped his arm to his side, his sword swaying uselessly by his legs.

Your eyes teared up when he averted his gaze from you. You desperately wished to reach out to him, to comfort him by saying you could run away with him. But Donghae’s firm hold on you prevented you from doing either.

“Drop him off at the next town over; I don’t want to see him in the capital city.” Donghae’s command was sharp, and amidst your teary sadness you missed the sly glint in his eye as he ordered his soldiers.

You gasped when Donghae harshly tugged you up and behind him on top of the horse. Jin turned at the noise, and you exchanged one last melancholy gaze before Donghae kicked the horse and quickly trotted away. Tears escaped your eyes as Jin’s figure grew smaller and smaller. Only one thing comforted you in this solemn moment: Jin was safe — alive and safe.

“You’ve had an adventurous past few days haven’t you?” Donghae asked, his tone sharp and unforgiving. “Anything you wish to share?”

You kept your face away from him and remained silent.

“Does my bride not wish to speak to me?”

He laughed dryly at your quietness. “You’ll speak to me whether you like it or not come Friday.”

Your brows furrowed at his words. If you counted the days correctly, then today was currently Tuesday. What did Donghae have planned that would make you talk to him within a few days?

He observed your confused facial expression before continuing, “My father passed away the night of your disappearance.” Your face dropped and you turned to face him. He scoffed and shook his head. “Don’t blame yourself, you weren’t of importance to him. He finally succumbed to his illness.”

Your face screwed together at his apathetic behavior.

“Which means, my coronation and our wedding have been advanced. We are to be wed on Friday.”

All color drained from your face and your mouth dried. The shock temporarily halted your ability to breathe, and you found yourself barely listening as Donghae went on.

“I expect perfect behavior from this moment on, understood?”

You looked away from him — another attempt to show your dismay. But it was no use as his hand instantly raised and roughly gripped your face as he turned your head to face him. “I asked, do you understand?” His voice was low and threatening, and you were sure that if he held onto your face any longer, it would leave a mark.

Your teary eyes quivered. “Yes,” you mustered out.

Your return to the castle was not a glamorous affair.

Donghae ordered the guards to escort you to your room and the maids to give you a bath and get rid of the “stench of another man”. You followed his words obediently, every inch of your body seeped in exhaustion and dejection. It wasn’t until after your hour-long bath and the maids finally left your suite when you were finally able to close your eyes and rest.

Unfortunately, your rest was short lived. A few moments after you laid down and just before you fully submitted to the god of sleep, a heavy knock rang in your room. You groaned and hoped that whoever it was would go away if you didn’t answer, but they only continued knocking.

With great reluctance, you pulled yourself out of bed and opened the heavy doors. Instantly, the disgruntled frown on your face was replaced with a shocked smile.

“Hobi!”

“Y/N!” he greeted back with comforting enthusiasm. Quickly, he pulled you into a hug, but the shock of seeing him again prevented you from immediately responding. “Are you not happy to see me?” he asked with a wary voice as he pulled away, frowning at your still body.

You shook your head. “No - no, I am! It’s just…” your voice trailed off as you inspected his face, which hadn’t changed at all even after two long years. “It’s been so long,” you finished softly.

“Too long; I’m sorry,” he replied gently, taking his hands into yours.

“Don’t apologize.” You smiled at him and gestured for him to enter your room and sit. “Why have you returned to the castle?” you asked once he sat down next to you at the edge of your bed.

“I’ve resumed my old post — well, my old post with a new duty of protecting you,” he answered simply, and the intense focus he had on keeping a straight face immediately told you that his response was a lie.

“You have? Why?” you challenged, crossing your arms.

“Boredom?” he replied weakly. You rolled your eyes at his dishonest response. You knew that Hobi, who was the only son of a powerful lord and had a loving partner at his lavish home, would not return to this castle as the Head Castle Guard out of boredom.

“No one in their right mind would return to this castle for fun.”

He sighed and grabbed your hands gently as he looked into your eyes. “I was worried about you, and it seems I had full reason to be.” You looked down with a flushed face as he continued, “When I first arrived yesterday morning, I was informed that you’d gone missing! At first I thought, good for you, because you were always miserable here, but then the stablekeeper insisted that you’d been taken — kidnapped!” His facial expression conveyed pure alarm, and you instantly felt guilty for worrying your friend, even if it wasn’t your fault.

Hobi’s face relaxed and he brought his arms tightly around you. “But it’s ok now. I’m glad you’re safe,” he whispered. You felt the vibrations of his words as your head rested against his chest, and the comforting feeling of his hands rubbing your back like a parent would to a child brought tears to your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he felt your upper body starting to shake. He quickly released you and held your shoulders to look at your face. “Have I upset you?”

“No, not at all,” you started, trying your best to gather yourself and wipe away your flowing tears. He waited patiently for you to continue, only whispering “it’s alright” and “take your time” when you choked on your words.

Finally, after a few minutes, you calmed down. And so, everything spilled out of your mouth. You easily confided in Hobi, who was your only friend when you first arrived at the castle and whose sudden departure after a few months left you even lonelier, and told him everything that had happened the past few days. You talked about the three thugs and how they took you, your reunion with Seokjin and how you almost escaped, and how you had to marry Donghae in just a few days.

Like a good friend, Hobi listened to everything you had to say. He didn’t judge or interject — just listened. And when you finished your long recount of your journey, he comforted you. With his comforting arms wrapped around yours, his soft hands wiping away your tears, and his encouraging murmurs, you finally felt alright for the first time since you’ve reentered the castle.

“I know you were kidnapped,” Hobi started with a humorous smile on his face, “but it seems like you’re more upset about returning.”

You laughed at the irony of the situation. “I was scared at first, but,” you paused, reflecting back to the eccentric thugs you met and your true love, “they — Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin — weren’t that bad. Honestly, I kinda miss them.” You paused again to take a deep breath, bracing yourself to say his name. “And Seokjin… I miss him terribly, but I’m just relieved that he’s safe… It might be wishful thinking, but maybe we can be together again one day.”

“Don’t lose hope, Y/N,” Hobi said reassuringly as he brought you into another tight hug. “You’ll get your happy ending.”

Much to your relief, Hobi was still at your side even as you awoke the next morning. He made sure to dismiss the other guards, who obediently listened to his order as his subordinates, and take your breakfast from the maids so you could have your much-needed space.

“Make sure to eat, you need to keep your energy up,” he scolded you when he noticed that you barely touched the fruits and pastries he piled onto your plate.

You sighed and shoved a strawberry in your mouth to appease him, mumbling as you chewed, “It’s too early and I’m too sad to have an appetite.”

He tutted. “You’re not skipping meals on my watch.”

“You’re too kind to me, Hobi,” you said after swallowing another bite of your toast.

“Only the best for my closest friend,” he responded with a shining smile.

After breakfast, you changed into a day dress and went on a walk around the castle grounds with Hobi. Your unexpected departure from your quarters (and the rare smile on your face) shocked the castle staff members. It was probably the first time you smiled since Hobi left the castle and his post.

Hobi had a miraculous way of brightening everything (and almost everyone) he touched. His infectious smile, heartwarming laugh, and gentle movements were once — and now again — the highlights of your day. Even now, as you coped with the loss of Seokjin and your upcoming marriage, he managed to put a smile on your face.

“Just my thought, but,” you started, a friendly smile on your face as you walked through the colorful gardens with your right arm looped around Hobi’s, “I’m sure that Yoongi would be more than happy to accept a proposal and marry you by now. It’s been, what, nearly three years now since you started courting him?”

The tips of Hobi’s ears burned red as he shook his head. “I still fear that he isn’t ready, and that if I ask too soon it will ruin what we have now,” he admitted honestly.

You sighed and gestured for him to stop walking. He listened, and you took your hands into his and looked up into his shining brown eyes. “Hobi, you are one of the best people I know. Anyone would be lucky to have you, and if you’re really worried about Yoongi not being ready, then talk to him. I haven’t met him, but he seems like he wouldn’t get upset if you ask.”

“He wouldn’t,” Hobi responded quickly, the speed of his words causing his face to flush red as you looked at him with a smirk. “You’re right,” he said after a few moments while resuming the walk.

The two of you continued your walk into noon, during which you ate a small lunch together, and the early evening. Within a few hours, your friendship was the talk of the castle staff. You tried to ignore the glances that a few servants gave you and the growing feeling of dread in your stomach when you returned to your suite and noticed that instead of your lady’s maids waiting outside, Donghae’s personal guard was.

You walked cautiously towards your open door and stiffened when you entered the room, immediately noticing Donghae sitting on the edge of your bed. This was the third time he’s ever entered your suite, and you didn’t anticipate it would be better than his previous visits.

Silently, you walked past him and sat down in front of your vanity. You remained quiet as you removed your jewelry, waiting for him to speak first.

“Why am I hearing whispers that my bride is in an adulterous relationship with her personal guard?” His voice was harsh, and you distracted yourself from flinching by picking up your tub of facial cream.

You eyed Donghae through your vanity mirror, carefully observing his scornful face. “Hobi? Don’t be ridiculous,” you quickly responded and placed your face cream down. Your heart beat faster as you saw Donghae advance towards you from the corner of your eye.

His hand gripped your shoulder firmly. “Ridiculous? I told you I expected perfect behavior. Prancing around with your guard is far from that.”

You turned to face him with a solemn expression. “Hobi is a friend — a friend. I don’t expect you to understand considering you have no idea what friendship even is.”

The prince’s lip curled into a snarl. “Shut up!” he shouted, the volume of his words causing you to flinch in your seat. Donghae turned away from you towards the guard at your door, commanding menacingly, “Get rid of him.”

Your heart dropped and you instantly stood, the heavy stool under you dragging loudly against the stone floor. “No! Don’t you dare!”

“And who are you to stop me?” he snarled.

Your hands balled up by your sides, and you couldn’t contain your anger as you responded, “You can do many things to me - you have done much to me - but I will not let you harm the one person in this castle who has truly tried to be my friend and did nothing but try to make me happy.”

Donghae laughed dryly. “Happy? Do you truly believe you deserve the right to be happy?”

You clenched your hands even tighter, feeling as if you were about to break your own skin, and your voice lowered to a threatening whisper. “If you even think about harming Hobi, I will end you myself, Donghae. I have nothing to lose.”

“You said the same thing about Seokjin,” Donghae replied with a smug smirk, his words causing your face to fall in confusion. “And I still beat you.”

“Wh-what?” you stuttered, a feeling of pure terror seeping through every inch of your body. You couldn’t forgive yourself if Jin was hurt — the mere thought alone brought warm tears to your eyes.

Donghae didn’t respond; instead, he turned back to his guard and pointed at you. “Take her to the dungeons, maybe a few days will knock sense into her ungrateful mind.”

“What have you done to Jin?” you cried, your voice shaky with desperation. You shouted as his guard grabbed your hands and harshly pulled them together behind your back. “Donghae, I’m talking to you!” you screamed at his retreating figure. “Shim Donghae!”

The cruel prince turned the corner and walked away, the sound of his heavy footsteps growing quieter as he walked down the hallway. You waited until the thump of his steps fully disappeared before turning to face the guard.

“I assume you’re not kind enough to let me go,” you mumbled weakly.

He remained stone-faced, and you sighed in mild disappointment. His expression morphed into confusion when you muttered a quiet apology, and his face twisted once your foot made harsh contact with his shin.

You took advantage of his distracted state and twisted your body so your knee could meet his crotch. He doubled over in pain, and you easily slipped out of his grip. Watching his sluggish movements carefully, you reached over for the empty vase on your vanity and, in one swift movement, knocked it over his head.

The guard’s body fell limply onto the ground, and you wasted no time in placing the cracked, bloodied vase back onto the table and running out of your room.

Your heart pounded loudly in your chest as you darted through the long halls and down the stairs. “Please, please, please,” you whispered repeatedly towards yourself as you pushed yourself to run faster.

Finally, after what felt like minutes of running, you reached the floor Hobi’s suite was on. You turned the corner towards his chambers, ignoring the ugly ripping sound your dress made as your feet stumbled, and desperately reached to push open his door.

“Hobi! Hobi! Hurry! You have to leave!” you announced between breathy pants as you staggered into his room.

“What?” He stood up immediately, alarmed by your urgency as you pulled him towards his window. Luckily, Hobi’s quarters was on the first floor and towards the front of the castle, allowing him a relatively easy escape if he moved fast enough.

“I - there’s no time to explain!” you cried, pulling his window open. “Don’t gather your belongings! You must leave now!”

“Why?” he asked, grabbing your frantic hands and holding them securely in an attempt to calm you down. But it was no use as you shook them off and continued to push him towards the window.

“Donghae’s out for you! He can’t harm you when you’re in your own home! Please go now!” you explained rapidly, praying that you wouldn’t hear the familiar sound of heavy feet running down the hall towards the room.

Hobi’s face fell. “If he’s out for me then he’s out for you,” he noted softly. In another non-life-threatening situation, you may have found his selflessness endearing, but right now, you wanted nothing more than for him to leave safely.

“Please… leave. I won’t let you get hurt.” Your voice was reduced to a quiet, frantic whisper. “You have a family.”

Hobi shook his head and squeezed your hand. “Go with me! I can protect you!”

The idea was tempting, but your thoughts immediately returned back to Donghae’s cryptic words about Seokjin, and you instantly knew that leaving with Hobi wouldn’t be the right option. “I can’t. There’s something I must confirm.”

Hobi’s face faltered, and you knew he wanted to argue more, but urgency began to flow through his veins when a distant shout rang through the castle. Both of you knew then that he was running out of time.

Hobi wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you reassuringly, whispering, “I’ll come back for you, please stay safe and don’t do anything stupid.”

“I promise,” you responded, but you both heard the uncertainty behind your words.

With that, he pulled back and gave you one last look, your teary eyes meeting his. You knew it was difficult for him to leave you at a time like this, but both of you understood that this was for the best.

Quickly, Hobi slipped out through the window, and you could barely see his dark shadow as he ran away from the castle and towards the open gates. You watched from the open window, and you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw him easily walk through the gates and towards the bustling town.

Only a few seconds later, the distinguishable sound of footsteps pounding against the floor rang from the hall. Closing your eyes to brace yourself, you sat underneath the window and waited for the guards to storm in.

Their steps grew louder, and you mentally counted down the time.

3...2...1

The door burst open, and you kept your eyes shut as the soldiers entered.

“Where is -”

“He’s gone,” you answered abruptly, your eyes still shut. “By now, Hobi will be safe at home with Lord Jung and Viscount Min.”

“Prince Donghae ordered us to-”

Your eyes flew open in anger. “I don’t care what Donghae has ordered you to do. Everyone knows that no one, even the royal family, can’t touch Lord Jung and his family.”

The front guard’s jaw clenched in anger, and you could see the frustration building in his eyes.

Despite the anxious nerves bubbling in your stomach, you continued to provoke the guard. “Isn’t it frustrating?” you asked with feigned innocence. “When things don’t turn out the way you want.” You laughed bitterly. “Did you really think I would just stand still?”

The guard walked towards you and aggressively pulled you up, not wasting any time to tie your hands behind your back. “You’re going to regret your foolish actions,” he muttered darkly as he harshly tugged you out of the room with him, the other guards following closely behind you.

You laughed emptily. “I regret nothing.”

“Enjoy your time rotting here, bitch.”

You whimpered as the guard roughly shoved your body into the dark dungeon cell. Stumbling to regain your footing since your hands were bound, you cursed as you heard the metal gate closed and locked behind you.

Once you were fully upright, you whirled around and walked to the steel bars, placing your hands on them before declaring, “I would like to speak with Donghae.”

The guard in front of you scoffed. “Prince Donghae is occupied this evening.”

“I don’t care,” you uttered. “Tell him I must see him now.” You slipped your arm through the bars in an attempt to grab him, but the guard spun around and moved out of the way before you could touch him. You grumbled as he started to walk away. “Don’t you dare walk away!” you screamed. “What have you done with Seokjin?”

The guard halted in his steps before turning back to face you with a menacing smirk. “Trust me, Princess, your lover is having anything but fun as we speak.”

At his words, you felt your heart drop and your head spin. A cold, suffocating sensation spread across your chest as your knees buckled underneath you. Hot, angry tears rolled down your face while you clutched your knees to your chest.

Your head throbbed as you thought of Jin and what they could be putting him through. Donghae’s torture tactics were not unbeknownst to you, and you often cringed in horror when you overheard him talking about them. It was one of the things about the Prince that truly made you question if he was really a human.

As you shut your eyes, you could see and hear Jin screaming in pain. Hurt and betrayal swam in his teary eyes — a stinging reminder that this was your fault. How could you have been so foolish to think that Donghae would really let Jin go freely?

“Oh, Jin,” you cried quietly with your head down. Your chest heaved as sobs started to wrack your body. “Please… please be ok,” you begged softly.

#kim seokjin #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin #bts fanfic #bts seokjin #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #seokjin fanfic #seokjin imagine #kim seokjin x y/n #kim seokjin x you #seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #bts angst #bts fluff #min yoongi #Jung HoSeok #bts fairy tale au #bts

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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years ago

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18. Game for losers

Prompt used- squishing others cheeks| fluff | Draco squishes Harry's face everytime he swears |

" the creation of sentient is first and foremost not a creation, it is a sentient within itself. To feel is to -"

" if I hear this man talk anymore I would extract my fucking eyes out " Harry Whispered to Ron

" I don't know Harry, I don't understand a shit he says " he whispered back leaning over the table listening to the professor going on and on about God knows what.

" do you think it can make us fucking sleep ?" Harry asked

" of course Harry, I've probably dozed off like 3 times till now and it's Only been 20 minutes " Ron whispered

" I wanna fucking get out-"

" then sure do and stop disturbing who actually want to listen potter " Draco spat from the seat behind Harry

" as If you're actually fucking listening ?" Harry rolled his eyes

" yes I am actually fucking listening but all I can hear is about your dumb brain not being able to process the words and swearing " Draco whispered harshly. Rolling his eyes harry turned around and tried not to fall asleep like Ron had. Why they had to take Muggle studies in 8th year they didn't understand, the only problem with Muggle studies was every Friday they had to sit through psychology classes and as much as Harry expected he'd like it, it was all Just about huge words that bored him.

However eliciting a reaction out of Draco seemed like a fun thing to do for the rest of the class and he so did. He scratched his quill too hard on paper for one, kept kicking Draco beneath the chair, leaning back over the chair and other such things and harry was amused, Draco wasn't, of course.

" you really hate the class don't you ?" Draco asked as soon as Harry got out of the class

" well mind you, I beyond fuckin hate that fucking class. It's fucking ridiculous and annoying-"

" do you always swear this much ?" Draco cut him off narrowing his eyes at harry.

" well - yeah maybe I do, why do you fucking care ?" Harry furrowed his eyebrows asking.

Draco frowned, not answering and walking away.

" can't believe you still want to give the git another chance " Ron mumbled as he pushed Harry to walk forward

" he's apologized Ron, to everyone and everyone deserves a second chance. Besides he was the one who first came forward and I'm sure it was a lot for his over inflated big as a fucking balloon. So I don't see why not " Harry shrugged off. Ron didn't really question it since it was actually true. Harry and Draco still weren't on the best terms but well they were making progress and it was something.

It was only a month after when Harry and Draco started seeing eye to eye on things, and of course as Harry didn't actually listen in those Muggle studies lessons, instead of going for help to Hermione, he went with Draco, it was surprising how easily he explained things.

" so basically instead of bottling up my feelings I should let them fucking out for everyone to listen to it, it's fucking ridiculous" Harry yawned as Draco took down some notes

" believe me potter it helps " he didn't look at harry

" as if you fucking do this, if anything you're the most closed down person I've ever fuckin seen " Harry leaned over the table watching Draco

" I'm not closed down potter, I'm merely preservative " Draco replied still not looking at him.

" preservative, just another word for being fucking closed down " Harry said in boredom

" it is self preservation to not let anyone else see more of what you want them to see " Draco sighed pushing his quill away since Harry definitely wasn't going to stop talking

" you're just like that old toad, just big fucking words " he rolled his eyes.

Draco blinked then continued speaking " whatever you want to believe potter and for Merlin's sake stop swearing in every sentence "

" why ? It bothers you?" Harry smirked

" it doesn't bother me, it's more of you showing how insufferable you are with little to zero amount of decency " Draco huffed

" so it does fucking bother you " Harry nudged Draco

" it does not potter " Draco rolled his eyes

" yes it fuckin does, it's all over your fuckin face " Harry grinned

" it's not all over my face and stop Swearing potter " Draco rolled off his eyes and began continuing his work again.

" it is bothering. It is bothering you so much that you'd actually want to rip my fucking throat off " Harry pushed himself right in front of Draco's face to block him from working.

" it doesn't bother me potter and move " Draco huffed in annoyance.

" it is bothering you, just fuckin admit oittt-" Draco squished Harry's cheeks stopping him from going on.

" stop swearing for merlins sake potter " Draco harshly Whispered not letting go of his face.

" jusht fuckhing adhmit ith Dracho" Harry spoke with much difficulty.

" i will admit if you stop swearing and let me work " Draco suggested almost smiling lightly because of how adorable Harry actually looked right now.

" fine "

" alright yes it bothers me okay " Draco let go of Harry's face, chuckling.

" it hurt " Harry rolled his eyes rubbing off his cheeks

" as if potter, you've been through much worse. Now shut up and let me work" Draco gave him a small smile and resumed working.

" you're just like Hermione, much fun though. Anddd I'm not gonna stop Swearing so fuck you -" and harry ran out of the library. Pinching the bridge of his nose Draco found it hard to control his small laughter erupting because of Harry's childish behaviour. He had to admit, Harry was in fact cute.

And as time went Draco got more annoyed by Harry's swearing and it led to Draco squishing his cheeks more often, sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. Harry really wasn't trying to stop himself from swearing anyways, as if he actually wanted Draco to squish his face. Draco truly didn't mind anymore. As it became a routine, their friend's took notice of the peculiar friendship and often asked in secrecy if there were feelings involved, maybe it was self preservation because none of them gave a definite answer, ever.

Rituals and routine after routine followed in the course of attachment with each other with Harry and Draco, it was endearing that they had something entirely completely of their own but it was 5 months and neither of them had made a move, either they were unaware of the other person liking them which seemed like a much lesser option or they simply waited for the other one to make a move first, which seemed likely. Harry was becoming impatient day by day by Draco's ignorance to make a move first but harry being a child he was didn't wanted to make a move either, so he faked he had a date.

" who again are you going out with ?" Draco asked much less interested in Harry's over excited revelation about his fake date, he didn't need to know that though.

" would it make a difference if I told you ?" Harry nudged but Draco didn't utter a response

" not really. It's upto you if you don't want to tell. I can't care much " Draco did seem uninterested in listening to harry, which obviously bothered him but didn't indicate it.

" then I won't fucking tell you " and this time Draco didn't squish his cheeks.

" seems fair. Enjoy your date. Now if you'll excuse me I have to go and return these books " Draco gave him a stern smile and picked his thing's and left. Huffing in annoyance, Harry banged his head against the table repeatedly.

Not eliciting a reaction out of Draco bothered him more than he thought it would, but now it was more of a challenge than anything else and harry wasn't going to give up. So he decided to actually go out on a date as pretend, Blaise zabini. It seemed the perfect option since Blaise was friend's with Draco and playfully flirted with Harry a lot.

But still no Fucking reaction. Harry almost wanted to confront Draco but the child in him definitely wasn't having it. He spent so much time trying to make Draco jealous " but that insufferable git isn't even fucking jealous " Harry huffed in announce.

" maybe he doesn't like you then ?" Blaise suggested

Harry rolled his eyes " you seriously believe that. That guy does my homework in advance and then explain it to me, you really think he doesn't like me. Come on you know him "

" he does seem to be going all the way for you" Blaise sarcastically replied and just then he saw Draco coming in his direction, with books in his hands. Seriously, Harry thought.

And just then it struck Harry, Draco didn't believe Harry and Blaise were real.

" come on, hold my hand " harry Whispered to Blaise

" what ?" Blaise stopped dead in his track's but Draco was coming closer.

" just fucking, kiss me " Harry huffed pushing Blaise against the wall

" I'm not fuckin kissing you, you idiot " Blaise harshly Whispered.

" okay then just fucking Whisper something in my ear, just do it Blaise. He's almost here " Harry Whispered yelled. Rolling his eyes Blaise leant down to Whisper something in Harry's ear and despite of what he whispered Harry deliberately grinned and giggled and Draco saw it. He stopped for a moment at the scene then collected himself and walked off, his hands clenched to his side's.

" you're a fucking Moron too Blaise but this worked. Thanks " Harry said and followed Draco from a distance.

When Draco walked out of the library, Harry was waiting outside for him smirking.

" I suppose, Blaise stopped snogging you in the middle of the corridor " Draco rolled his eyes.

" oh yes he did. Quite a good kisser he is " Harry smirked.

Rolling his eyes Draco almost walked off but harry followed him " he's great you know. And his lips works marve-"

" shut up " Draco squished Harry's cheeks , again.

" what ?" Harry innocently asked

" I don't want to listen about Blaise snogging you " Draco rolled off his eyes

" but we're best friends and I want to tell about the new guy I'm going out with " Harry said

" well I don't want to listen " Draco harshly said not letting go of Harry's face yet.

" why ?" Harry asked

" i- my choice " Draco rambled

" no you're fuckin lying" Harry replied, Draco squishing a bit harder, just enough to not make it hurt but to make him stop swearing

" how many times do I have to tell you, stop Swearing ?"

" go out with me and I'll stop " Harry suggested

Draco looked at harry for a moment before rolling his eyes " meet me outside the Great hall at 8" and he dropped Harry's face and walked away, smiling to himself.

" you lost " Harry chuckled from behind him. But he didn't care. Neither of them cared. they were finally going out on a date, after so long, why should they.

And when Draco snogged Harry in the forbidden forest on the date, he snogged the lights out of Harry. They were never going to be the same and they loved it.

Requests open

Day 17- their own song | Day 19- love have no bounds

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angrylizardjacket · 4 years ago

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the band with no name {Douglas Booth} Part 3

A/N: 3050 words. Is this good? i genuinely don’t know.

[PART 2]

----

“I’m not getting a tattoo,” Douglas tells Colson flatly on Friday, still using his Nikki accent, arms crossed in between takes. They’re milling around on the Starwood set for the band’s first gig, and Douglas is in a pair of bright red, plastic boots with a considerable heel, that come all the way up his thighs, and pinch his toes. He’s already in a mood, he doesn’t need Colson’s shit-eating grin.

“I never said -” Colson tries, but he’s still grinning, can’t help himself.

“You implied,” Douglas frowns, shifting his weight on his feet. It didn’t help, “I’m not just going to show up where she works and pretend like I’m going to be a customer, that’s- it’s disingenuous, man,” the English accent slips out a little, but he corrects himself quickly, “and it’s stalking.”

“It’s not stalking -”

“It is if I’m not going to actually get a tattoo,” Douglas raises his eyebrows, watching as Colson spins idly on his drum stool.

“Fine, I’ll get a tattoo, and you can come for moral support or whatever,” he shrugs.

“Still kind of sounds like stalking,” Daniel adds from the edge of the stage, where he’s patiently sitting while a makeup assistant applies fake blood to his cheek. Beside her stands Jonah, the production assistant, diligently holding the bottle cap full of red liquid she was working from. They share a quietly amused look before Jonah glances at Colson, and the woman goes back to work.

“He’s not wrong,” Jonah agrees, and Colson throws his head back with an exasperated groan.

“And Corey said he’d personally skin you if you got any tattoos during filming,” the makeup assistant reminded him. Colson swore under his breath, scowling at the memory, but conceding defeat.

“When’s her gig?” Iwan asked from where he’d been sitting on his amp, texting and drinking water.

“Saturday,” Douglas said with an immediate smile. Thankfully no-one was looking at him enough to call him on it.

“Where?” Daniel asks, a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Around,” Douglas answered evasively, expression souring almost immediately.

“Is that a club, or...?” Colson asks, trying to be discrete where he was pulling out his phone. Douglas kind of regrets roping any of them into this.

“Where she’s playing doesn’t matter, because none of you are going, okay?”

“Come on, man, don’t you trust us?” Said by Colson, trying his best to pull off puppy-dog eyes in his Tommy Lee costume and hair, is the absolute last thing that would help Doulgas trust him, or any of them.

“Absolutely not,” though he’s smiling a little at their antics.

“You’re the one who wanted our help,” Daniel throws over his shoulder, and the makeup assistant tells him to stay still.

“You assholes couldn’t keep your noses in your own business; I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“They’re playing Casa Cristo at ten tomorrow night,” Colson announces, blatantly ignoring Douglas, whose whole expression has scrunched into something sour by the time Colson looks back up. He holds out his phone, showing off a photo of your band with the date and time superimposed over it, “it’s on their story.” He says by way of explanation.

“How far away is that?” Iwan asks, and the makeup assistant pauses, and looks to Jonah.

“Fifteen minute drive?” She asks, and they confirm with a nod. Douglas’ dawning horror is kind of funny to watch.

“Have a little bit of faith in us,” Iwan said, with as much of an apologetic smile as he could manage.

“You,” Douglas looked to him, “I have mild faith in; you’re not the one I’m worried about.” At that, both Daniel and Colson make noises of outrage at the implication.

“I’ve been helping you!” Colson exclaimed, betrayed, and Douglas gave him a sidelong glance.

“And honestly, you were doing great at it until you suggested I should find out where she works and get a whole tattoo just to spend time with her.”

“I never suggested -!”

“You implied!”

During the entire car ride to your gig the following day, Douglas strongly contemplates sending you an apology in advance. Literally everyone in the car, including Jonah, who was driving, and the makeup assistant, Ally, who’d tagged along because she’d become invested after they’d filled her in on the fake-band deal, tells him it’s a bad idea.

“We’ll be fine, there’s nothing to apologise for, we’re not gonna helicopter parent,” Colson teased, trying to pinch at Douglas’ cheek, though he slapped him away.

“That kind of shit is exactly what I’m afraid of,” Douglas warned him, pointing a stern finger at him.

“We’ll hold him back,” Daniel says with a half smile; he’s been trying to act less nosy and more trustworthy since yesterday, apparently taking Douglas’ words to heart.

“We’ll try,” Iwan grins, as if momentarily possessed by the spirit of Mick Mars, about to watch his bandmates cause havoc and do very little to stop it. Why was Daniel the one Douglas had been worried about again?

Anyways, nosy bastards the lot of them.

Casa Cristo is already thumping with music by the time they all arrive, fashionably late at ten thirty, all still sporting the remnants of their makeup after filming had wrapped for the day.

When they walk in, AC/DC’s You Shook Me All Night Long is just beginning, and you’re on stage, backlit by the LED parcans you’d brought to add a little something extra to the performance, sculling a pint of water like your life depended on it while the other two thirds of your band’s trio played through the opening of the song.

“She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean; she was the best damn woman that I’ve ever seen,” you leaned into your microphone with a sharp smile as you looked out at the crowd and the dancefloor.

Like always, you’re a sight to behold, in black ripped jeans this time, and a shirt that was more hole than fabric, showing off your fancy bra beneath. There’s what looks to be a leather jacket in a heap beside your bass amp, and you’re rocking in time with the beat as you play your bass.

“That her?” Ally asks over the music; everyone nods in confirmation, “she’s hot as hell; you’ve got good taste.” Douglas can’t help his smile as he moves to the bar to order a drink. The song leads into I Was Made For Loving You by KISS, and then Cum On Feel The Noize, after which the set came to an end, and you promised to be back. The guitarist stops you before you head into the crowd, and the two of you talk in low voices for a moment before he points directly at the gaggle of actors sitting to the back of the room.

Your expression lights up when you spot them. Douglas pretends his heart doesn’t leap at the sight. Jonah head to the courtyard to smoke, joined by Daniel and Iwan, while Ally had headed to the bar, leaving, thankfully, only Douglas and Colson.

You head to the bar first to get a drink, but once you have, you make a beeline for them.

“The band with no name, back again; I don’t know if I should feel flattered or threatened,” you grin, bright and sincere as you say it, joining them at the table they’d commandeered. You’re a little sweaty from rocking out, shining and a little ethereal in the dim club lights.

“We’re scoping out the competition,” Colson grins, titling his glass to you to cheers, which you comply with happily.

“I think that means we have to play some Crue to show you how it’s done,” you answer in kind, shifting your weight on your feet, turning to face Douglas, “how about it? Think I could show you a thing or two?”

“I’d say it’s a good thing Nikki Sixx was busy if it means I get to learn a thing or two from you instead,” Douglas hears himself say, and for a single instant, he’s terrified he’s blown his cover. Your mouth falls open in flustered shock, and your eyes go wide, something pleased amid the surprise in your expression. Colson is holding very still in an effort to not draw attention to himself.

Suddenly, you duck your head, muttering that he’s far too kind, unable to look him in the eye. When you finally do manage to regain your composure, you ask if he wants anything to drink, gesturing to his mostly empty cup.

“It’s fine, I can -” he tries to save you the trouble, but you insist that it’s no trouble.

“You can buy me one later,” and okay there’s absolutely no way to miss the flirty tone of your voice. Douglas really hopes the lights are hiding his slight flush, because he knows they’re absolutely not hiding his own pleased grin.

As you head to the bar, Colson lets out the breath he’d aparently been holding, eyes wide and grin wider as he looks at Douglas.

“What?” Douglas snaps, still feeling the heat in his cheeks.

“That was smooth as hell, my dude,” Colson tells him sincerely, and Douglas lets himself be a little smug.

“You know I do know how to chat up a girl, right?” He asks, and Colson raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Never said you couldn’t.”

“Just took me a bit to figure out Y/N; I’m not bad at it when I kind of know who I’m talking to.”

“Not bad a it?! Fuck, man, that was a bullseye; she’s literally buying you a drink -”

“Who?” Daniel asked, rejoining the group, alongside Ally, who was nursing an espresso martini.

“Turns out Doug’s actually got some game,” Colson smirked, though Douglas just rolled his eyes.

“Of course he has,” Daniel said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “look at his face; that jawline’s got more game than half the guys in here.”

“And the eyeliner,” Ally added with an appreciative nod, which Daniel agreed with easily. At least they were being supportive. By the time you come back, Ally’s trying to reapply eyeliner to Daniel’s waterline and he’s concerned that she won’t be able to see what she’s doing in the dim light and will poke him in the eye.

“I’ll poke you in the eye on purpose, stop moving!” She yelled, his chin held tight between her fingers. You placed the drink down in front of Douglas, slotting easily into the space beside him, agonizingly close, almost touching him but not quite. You watch with confused amusement fore a few moments before Ally finishes up with a flourish; she seems surprised to see you there, and does a double take.

“Y/N,” you offer with a smile, holding out your hand, “are you the one responsible for their eyeliner? Because I must say, I definitely appreciate it,” you grin sharply. Ally shakes your hand after capping her eyeliner and shoving it back in her pocket.

“Ally, and yes, I’m the band’s stylist,” she lies easily, and your eyebrows raise.

“That first gig’s going to be something spectacular if they already have a stylist,” you muse.

“We have a name now too,” Daniel adds, blinking rapidly, trying to clear the tears from his eyes from where they’d been watering from the makeup. You make a noise of intrigue, and Douglas buries his face in his free hand, “The Fourskins.”

“The Fourskins.” You say tentatively, as if trying to hold back laughter, leaning in just enough that your shoulder was touching Douglas’s.

“Because there’s four of us and we play without shirts,” Colson adds, and Douglas chokes on his drink momentarily. If you ever end up watching The Dirt, you’re probably going to end up throttling them all for thinking that this was at all subtle.

As it stands, however, you just nod, and turn the name over in your mind, finally declaring that it works. It’s not long before Iwan and Jonah come back with your drummer in tow, and as soon as your saying hello to the other two, you’re being called back on stage.

“This next one’s for you guys!” You called over your shoulder with a grin as you’re slipping through the crowd towards the stage. The six at the table all chattered amongst themselves, trying to guess which song you’d play; Kickstart My Heart, Take Me To The Top, and Live Wire were all pretty far at the top of the list. After a brief chat with your band, however, you’d turned your bass back on and leaned into the microphone, giving a very distinctive laugh.

And you start to play She Goes Down.

“I think I love her,” Colson snorted, a sentiment which was echoed by both Iwan and Ally, while Douglas tried to keep his composure, which was a struggle with what your voice was doing and how your body was moving to the almost syrupy bass line.

“Flat on my back she goes down,” your eyes flutter close at the bridge, practically making love to the song with your voice going low and seductive, “for backstage pass, she goes down. With all of my friends, she goes down. She gives heart attack, she goes,” you croon, your eyes opening as a grin spreads across your lips and you slam into the final chorus.

The idea that Motley Crue wrote so much about sex had never exactly registered for Douglas, it was just kind of the done thing back in the hair metal scene. It seems like a good majority of songs were either about sex or drugs or both, and but hearing the recording, he’d never been fully aware of the suggestive power of the songs until this moment. Maybe it’s the difference between knowing Nikki Sixx now in 2018, and hearing and seeing you in 2018 sing it live that makes all the difference.

Because he’s trying desperately to commit your entire performance of the song to memory.

“Nikki and Tommy would fucking love this,” Colson adds, to almost universal agreement as the next song began.

The night is joyful and exuberant, and much to Douglas’s surprise, you seem to be spending most of your time between sets with him and the other actors, though judging by the other’s reactions, he shouldn’t be so surprised.

“She’s into you,” Ally told him bluntly, the two of them together at the bar while the others were outside in the cool night air. She spoke to him as if speaking to an idiot, which he resented, “why are you surprised she wants to spend time with you?”

“I’m just...” and he sighed deeply, “I’m just worried that me or one of the guys is going to slip up somehow, and she’ll only want to be around me because of the movie.”

“I don’t think she’s like that,” Ally said softly, patting him on the shoulder.

“And I don’t know her well enough to be able to agree,” Douglas admitted; for all that he liked you, he still wasn’t quite able to discern how you’d react to him playing Nikki Sixx in the band’s upcoming biopic. He didn’t even want to bring up the film for fear of you connecting the dots.

“Then get to know her,” she suggests, as if it’s that easy.

Somehow, having confirmation from Ally that you were into him was easier to believe than from the guys.

After you’ve played your final song for the night and said your goodbyes to the crowd, as the crowd’s chatter grows louder, though some are already moving on to a new venue. You coil leads and haul amps around with the speed and efficiency of someone twice your age, so focused that it’s almost mesmerizing.

The rest of the cast is making plans to move on, but as you’re taking the last of your things out to the station wagon outside, he knows the only way he’ll be able to see you again without being chaperoned by one of his nosy friends is by asking you out.

You’re out by the car, guitar case in one hand, holding the passenger door open with the other, talking about something with the drummer who was waiting in the driver’s seat. Then you spot him through the glass of the pub doors, watching with hesitation, and you smile at him warmly. You stow your guitar case in the back seat of the car, amid milk crates of leads and microphone stands, and make your way to the door.

As Douglas steps outside, he hears the drummer call ‘I’m leaving in five, with or without you’ but you ignore him.

“Great show, as always,” Douglas smiles, letting the door close behind himself, giving the two of you a modicum of privacy.

“But you’ve only seen us perform twice,” you say with slight hesitation.

“And you’ve been consistently good,” he points out, and you’re grinning again, all bashful and pleased, contrasting your fuck off attire, “can I ask when you’re free this week?”

“You certainly can,” you rock back on your heels, eyes shining, “it’s what I came over here to ask you, actually.”

“My uh, my day job’s kind of weirdly scheduled, so it’d probably be easier for me to work around you,” he admitted, and your eyebrow rose, intrigued.

“Day job?”

“It’s complicated,” and thankfully you didn’t pry.

“Well, my band rehearses Tuesday and Thursday, but I’m free during the week after five thirty; do you wanna grab dinner some time?” You asked, hopeful. Douglas’s lips curved into a smile and he nodded.

“I’ll check my schedule tonight and talk to you tomorrow, how about that?”

“Sounds like a date!” You enthuse, and make a step towards the car, but Douglas can’t help himself.

“I enjoyed She Goes Down, by the way,” he says, and when you turn around your smile is sharp as knives as mischief twinkles in your eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure you did, and I’m sure you will,” you wink at him, “we’ll see how the date goes.”

He watches you leave, his whole face amusingly red as he tries not to dwell on your implications, and he realises that you may very well be the death of him. Not that he’s complaining.

#Douglas Booth #douglas booth imagine #douglas booth x reader #mgk #colson baker #machine gun kelly #iwan rheon #daniel webber #the dirt #the dirt cast #the dirt cast imagine #the angry lizard writes

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oh-theatre · 4 years ago

Text

Livin’ It Up: Chapter 2

Chapter title: To Build it Up and Break It Down

A/N: IMMMM BACCCCK!! Loook i know this chapter is stupid! and it sucks! But its finished and like actually here! Also!! the whole thing about Logan having no feelings and hating them is not what it reads as and im not trying to fall into that cliche!! But youll have to keep reading!!

words: 2682

summary: Patton finds himself allowing a slight detour in his plan and allows himself one night to...explore. He wont be doing that again.

pairings: Eventual logicality, eventual prinxiety, eventual demus, eventual Moceit (Which then goes back to Logicality and Demus)

warnings: Swearing, alcohol, underage drinking, drinking, parties, kissing, throw up, slight self harm, emotional abuse

Ao3 Link

“He kissed me!” Virgil cries, Patton kicks him softly from under the table. “He kissed me” He whispers once more, shushing his words. Apologetic glances to the people around him and Patton looks back to his friend.

“We are in the library” Patton eyes, Virgil shrugs but nods returning to his doodles he calls work. Patton finishes his work, packing up neatly each and every aspect of his belonging. Panic sets into once he realizes Pattons finished his work and is now preparing for leisurely reading whilst Virgil hadn't even begun. “Virge, I love you but if you don't hurry up or make a plan I'm leaving”

“You're going to leave anyway, you have cheer” Virgil mutters, rushing through his work. Patton sighs, he squeezes his friends hand before quickly leaving him alone. Once settled on the bus his pockets buzz gently.

“Patton!” He greets, he ruffles through some of his things as he gets off the vehicle, thanking the driver kindly. He walks into the school he had become ever so familiar with after all these years. He watched as the sports team made their way out to practice on the field and found his path into the locker rooms as he listened to yet another telemarketing call. He hated them sure, but he felt guilty hanging up. Especially when it was just spoken by a real human, so he listens, nodding along until they go through the niceties and say goodbye with awkward persistence. Finally changed and in his navy blue uniform, he approaches the field. Instantly he's greeted by his friends, giddy jumps as they babble on about whatever they can muster.

He allows the team to get set up, run out their talk before calling attention forward. He ignores the rampant football team that plays behind them. Though they reserved the field Patton allowed them to use it for practice.

“Alright squad! Listen up!” He claps, a cheery grin and catching his pom poms from his friend Fiona, it begins

~~~

“I simply do not understand” Logan huffs, simply bundling himself tighter into his jacket. He follows a sweaty Roman out of the boys room, as he waves goodbye to his fellow teammates they make their way home. “Why must I have attended this practice?” Logan inquires

“Because you need to get out of the house, fresh air, you can't be huddled all day drinking away until your dad gets here” Roman explains, they stop at his locker on the way back through the school, the sounds of giggling call his attention but both continue with themselves.

“My father returning is truly not the optimal circumstance” He sighs but shrugs, puling out a small bottle from his pocket he takes a swig before a disappointed Roman snatches it away from him. They swivel and resume their trail before a quick crash decides to tumble things down. “Ah apologies” Logan decides before even looking, but his eyes dart and land his eyes on the top of a bouncy and bountiful head of hair, a sweet blushed bow and when the boy looks up he meets his eyes through his round rimmed glasses.

“You going to help?” Roman whispers, nudging his friend adamantly. Logan furrows his brows. “Obviously not” Logan continues staring, they stand frozen while Patton reestablishes himself. “Sorry Pat” The cheerleader finds Romans eyes, “-On...Patton” An awkward moment before someone taps behind Patton.

“Right well, I have to go” Patton shuffles awkwardly, his deep blue uniform fitting him comfortably. Why Logan was eyeing him was a different topic. He begins to walk away but Logan decides he’s not finished, taking his arm with a quick snap as Patton pulls away “Yes?” Logan continues his scan, a smirk.

“Go out with me”

“Cute!” Patton giggles before his somber tone returns “Bye now” he rolls his eyes, Roman can’t help but snicker, clutching to the lockers as he regains his breath. Logan scowls as he watches the man walk away, he decides to abandon his friend and follow Patton.

“Why not?” He questions, skidding in front of him. Patton, though taken aback, nods. “Give me a good reason as to why you wont entertain my company for a night?” Logan pushes. Patton adjusts his glasses, putting away his folders he clears his throat.

“You want one? Ill give you about a million” Patton smiles “First off, even if i was interested I have about a million things to do. I never have a moment off and I'm not so sure I want to spend my only freetime with you” Patton admits, why did that hurt Logan.

“Awe, that hurt” Logan hides

“Moreno im not stupid, I’ve seen how you work around here” Patton scoffs, he checks his phone, quickly replying to many messages. “You're charming! And honestly...kinda cute” Patton smirks, his small freckles dance upon his cheeks. “But i'm not a one night stand kind of guy” He shrugs

“Well, what if that's not what I want to do” Logan proposes, he pulls out his notepad scribbling done something before tearing a carefully neat crease and handing it to Patton. “You'll never know, if you don't give it a chance”

“I don't have time to give it a chance” Patton refuses the paper and decides the conversation has concluded. Logan flicks the note anyway, watching it land perfectly into his bag pocket. This satisfies him, now...to Roman.

~~~

“He asked you out?” Virgil inquires walking alongside Patton to their lockers.

“Eleven times” Patton sighs reaching his locker, he opens it up groaning at the sound of his phone. “Make that twelve” He looks to delete the message but quickly giggles. Virgil looks over his shoulder, quickly looking back as he meets Romans eyes and decides against it. “I have dance today” Patton notes, scribbling neatly in his planner, Virgil nods, squeezing his shoulder for luck as he walks away. “Tap shoes, tap shoes, tap shoes” He mutters searching through his bad waltzing into the auditorium.

“Morning Pat!” He looks up smiling as he greets the students. Walking backstage he fits his shoes on, tying his jacket around his waist.

“Alright students!” The teacher calls over the sound of the children warming up, Patton being the TA goes around checking on everyone and helping them out. He works with some students, holding them up as they work through his warm up. “Alright today's plan is partnering up and working through your partner dance!” Patton waits for everyone to partner up, going to the teacher. “Oh good, Patton, this is Logan Moreno, hes new but hes going to be your partner”

“What?” Patton turns, a smug Logan stands his hand extended and his feet ready. “Delightful” He sighs, he takes Logans hand and waits for the music. Once it begins he leads, and shockingly….Logan can dance. “Where’d you learn how to tap?”

“My mother wanted me to have a plethora of skills, so dance” He replies, spinning Patton in a quick circle. They dance around the room, Patton laughs as the routine moves, Logan feels a genuine rise in him as the smile flashes on the bright eyed boy's face. “Pretty…” He breathes

“What?” Patton wonders, they slow and close the gap between them. A slow dance as their taps echo carefully. “You're not bad” Patton compliments, Logans never heard it sound so genuine.

“Thank you, although you're quite advanced” Logan notes.

“I've been dancing since I was two years old” Patton epxlains, cheering the class while they take a break. “Ballet’s next” He notes, changing his shoes, Logan flicks his hands away helping him tie the bows. “Thank you” Logan helps him up.

“Go out with me” Logan inquires, Patton chuckles. He hadn't realized they had begun a slow waltz around the room. The space between them closes further, Patton doesn't quite mind the proximity. A quick spin before Logan pulls the boy back in. “If you say no, Ill stop”

“I doubt that” Pattons been here long enough, he heard the horror stories. “You're charming, I won't lie, but I'm not a shop and drop kinda person” Patton fiddles with Logans hand, they seperate landing on their own squares. He begins his pirouettes, focusing on a specific spot. Logan comes behind him, taking him by the waist as he dips perfectly.

“Give me a simple chance, Sorian” Logan begs “Im being serious about this, I don't typically pursue but...there's something I want to explore” Patton finds it sweet, his breath gasping on his neck definitely trying to persuade him.

But he wasn't someone's pawn, and he certainly wasn't trial run.

“I'm not going to be your test dummy” He pulls away, why did this spark excitement in Logan. A quick twirl before they finish their dance, a slow dip before they stand face to face. A smirk from Logan. “However, there is a carnival on friday, I plan to attend...should you be there...” Patton trails off, suggestive glance. Logan nods with quite an understanding, the bell rings and through Patton's rare impulsivity he places a gentle kiss on Logans cheek before he's onto his next class.

“Ill pick you up at eight” He calls, Patton rolls his eyes.

Subtle

~~~

“Well well well, look at you all dressed up!” Virgil mocks from Patton's bed. His fingers tap violently on his console. Patton rolls his eyes playfully, brushing off his outfit. His flower printed shirt complimenting a simple pastel overalls. His legs, though exposed, were warmed by socks.

“Super cute” Patton claps “Ugh, remind me to thank Remus when he calls next” Patton requests, Virgil shoots a thumbs up focusing more on his game. He really went all out, he missed the more chaotic of the twins but alas a parents choice isn't always something he could understand.

“Virge what do you want for dinner?” Patton's dad knocks, leaning into the room. “I can whip up some mac and cheese” Virgil smiles delighted, nodding at the delicious prospect. “Peaches you look great” He moves his attention to his son, the boy giving him a thankful stare. “You be careful ok? Text me when you're on your way home” A nod confirms it and it's just the friends once more.

“Are you sure I can sleep over?” Virgil throws his console to the end of the bed, grunts as he loses. Patton laughs, turning to his friend.

“V, of course” Patton lays on the bed, his back sore from practice. “Never are you not welcome here ok?” his phone buzzes, drawing attention to his home screen. His smile sinks, his two fathers smile bright while he sits a giggling baby in the middle chewing on his dad's tie. Virgil continues playing and the quiet game noises bring Patton back.

Logan: I have arrived at your place of residence

Patton couldn't help but smirk, he really did come to pick him up.

Patton: Ill be out in a moment

Logan: Wonderful, its cold so bring a coat

Patton: Thank you channel five, weather report

“Alright gloom, I'm out, see you later” a peace sign as his farewell and Pattons out and ready.

~~~

“Where were you?” Logan blinks as he enters his apartment, setting his coat away. His father stands in the den, disappointed. When was he not? Seems like the man had finally reached home, no doubt his private jet was stalling on the roof ready to whisk him away just as soon as he lectured Logan.

“Madrid, it took longer than expected, but I picked up some spanish” Logan retorts, the amusings were not met well by his father. “At the school's carnival with a friend” He admits, a bored sigh. Everything was so straight forward with his father, nothing ever sparked Logan with excitement.

“I expect you to be home, ready to greet me and tell me of your school life when I return from a trip. Then promptly go to sleep. Not out with a…friend” He snipes. Logan groans slouching as walks, or at least attempts to walk by his father. Hes exhausted and truly wishes the elation of his night wouldn't be tarnished by his father's own wishes.

But of course when did Logan ever get to do things of free will or without the rest of the few seconds dictated and planned out

“Logan Moreno you will stop right there, you will not be going on any more outings, and tomorrow at seven am sharp you will be ready to meet with my sales team to discuss opportunities. A short lunch then you will meet with my associate planner, and from there you will spend as much time as he wants discussing what you will do once you graduate” He finishes, not a breath wasted, or energy. “Goodnight Logan” he disappears into the shadowy darkness of the house leaving a sickly feeling in his son.

Once the house settles and he hears his father locked away in his office for the night, Logan on an impulse grabs an almost empty bottle of the vodka and stuffs it into his jacket pocket before retiring to his room for a night of sickly drinking, binge watching tv until his boredom reaches a peak of exhaustion. His eyelids close and the world sinks into a void of vast expanse where his pain feels numb.

~~~

“It was actually sweet Virge” Patton swoons, stabbing at his salad for another delectable bite. Virgil gleams at his friend, the actual happiness is undeniable. “I know its stupid and I know im defintely falling into his trap but...i dont know” Patton sighs

“Maybe theres something there” Virgil proposes, watching his eyes gaze over to a confident Roman, flexing at a table a few miles away. “Maybe hes serious?”

“Guess we’ll find out” He shrugs, mid bite he stops feeling his phone buzz. He checks dropping his food quickly. “Crap! I forgot I had a council meeting” He rushes to pack his things, giving Virgil a little pat on the head much to his friends' amusement. “See you!”

Maybe Logan was messing with his mind, he couldnt remember where the meeting was being held. God, he wishes he had written it down.

“You're the president Patton” he scolds himself racing through the metal halls lined with lockers. Science room or Astrology...he paces. He decides a fifty/fifty chance won't matter, he’ll just end up in an empty classroom or late for his own meeting. He chooses the astrology door, texting rapidly at his phone with severe apologies, the door creaks open but its not an empty room. “Oh! I'm so-” He begins finding he's interrupted a couple and a rather...steamy encounter. But his embarrassment quickly fades and turns to anger.

“Mind closing the door?” Cynthia, Patton recognizes from the cheer team, requests. Her arms and legs wrapped tightly around Logan. He wipes at his lips turning to face Patton. The teen expects some kind of remorse, some kind of apologetic look but his eyes are glazed over. Bored with the world, devoid of emotion.

“Door...please” He basically recites. Patton takes a quick breath, a smile creeps upon his face.

“Of course, pardon the interruption” He apologizes. He may have slammed the door harder than necessary but his fuming was visible. “I will not cry, im ok” He promises, clutching deeply at his palms, feeling his nails pierce the skin.

“Patton! There you are sunshine!” Greta laughs popping her head out of the science room. “Come on! Meetings chaos without you” She beams, motioning him in.

“Coming” He mumbles weakly, one more breath and his smile returns to his face. Plastered. He puts Logan out of his mind, and begins his speech. Completely unaware of the screaming that engulfed Logan's brain. Seeing Patton shouldn't have hit him so deep, but a punch to his gut and a sickly feeling.

What was this?

As the teen walked away feeling shameful for what the planets had seen, he catches a quick glimpse of the cheerleader leading the meeting through the door.

Feelings?

Disgusting…

A genuine smile flashes across Pattons face

Do it again...

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the-ghost-and-the-writer · 5 years ago

Text

Better with Three-Maria Hill X Female Reader X Natasha

It’s your one year anniversary, so of course you want to celebrate it in one particular way.

Sorry this took so long, I didn’t have a clue how to write f/f, let alone add another /f into it

Requested

18+

Fandom: Marvel

Ship: Maria Hill/Female Reader/Natasha Romanov|Black Widow

Characters: Maria Hill, Natasha Romanov, Female Reader

Word Count: 4, 113

Warnings: Brief mention of violence, NSFW, Swearing

NSFW Content: F/F/F Sex (Oral (Reader receiving), Sexy Toys (Natasha Receiving)

You didn’t know how, in a tower filled with people who had abilities most would only dream of having, it could be so easy to hide a relationship like this. Especially with Friday’s omnipotence, the way that Tony and Pepper could read people like a three panel comic, Wanda’s mindreading abilities, and the fact that you really weren’t too good at being subtle, it was a miracle you got to one month hiding this, let alone one year. To be fair, it was the Avengers; there were more important things to focus on, like missions and the odd attempted invasion of Earth and their own personal lives.

One year, you thought giddily as you waited in the elevator to get to your floor. One year to the day, in fact, you had made a decision that only made everything better. When you finally got to your floor, you hurried out and scurried off to your room “Friday, is anyone in my room?” You asked with a smile just before you got to the door. “Miss Hill has been waiting for you for a few minutes.” “Thank you.” You smiled before entering the room and seeing Maria perched at the foot of your bed, messing about on her phone. When the door slid closed, she looked up with a large smile. “Hey there brawler.” She sighed when she saw you, dropping her phone to her side “How was it today?” You shrugged and advanced to her so she could wrap her arms around your waist and look up at you as your hands fell to her shoulders. “Same as usual. Bruce is still trying to make up with Big Guy, and Steve thought we should try to teach him basic self-defence if it doesn’t work out for a bit.” “Did he let you at him?” You laughed and shook your head. “With my fists and his dodging skills? I’d kill the poor fucker. You know how heavy-handed I am.” Maria pouted and took your right hand in both of hers. She manipulated your fingers to curl over her palm so she could press her lips to the mid-section of your fingers. “I think your hands are very gentle.” She smiled up at you cheekily and you rolled your eyes. “Get here, dork.” You sighed and bent down slightly to kiss her, just to stop the little tangent you were sure was inevitable if you left her lips unoccupied. Every single time you’d mention your hands and your abilities, she’d get this way

Since it had first developed, you had a love-hate relationship with your power. Sure, it sounds really cool to be able to punch through almost literally anything with little-to-no pain, but it also meant that you had to be careful any time you tightened any muscle since they could become as solid as steel; that meant hugs, and handshakes, and holding things. At least you could control it somewhat now. It was Wanda that had ‘found’ you, really. The streets were being ravaged by some alien robots or whatever, you hadn’t cared about the specifics, and while Scarlet Witch was fighting off a few on her own with a bit of difficulty, you had run headfirst into that crowd of metal and punched one of them through a building with hardly any effort and no hesitation, a few of his buddies following after him. Soon afterwards, after having Tony run tests on you to see exactly what the hell made you punch like that, you’d met the Avengers, been (partially) accepted with a glowing recommendation from Wanda, gotten close to everyone. The rest was history.

Maria was always so responsive to you, especially when you kissed her slowly and made sure to pay close attention to all the things that you knew would make her melt for you. Her hands came down to your hips as you slowly guided her to lie on the bed with your hand at her back. She coiled her leg around yours to knock your balance so you almost collapsed onto her. You only just caught yourself in time so you didn’t slam your body into hers, starting to laugh softly and needing to pull away. The grin that Maria gave you didn’t calm yours down at all “Are you trying to cause an injury?” You chuckled and she shrugged softly. “Just eager.” She sighed, trailing her fingers across your hair “It’s our anniversary.” “I know.” Quickly, you leaned down to kiss her briefly again “Happy one year.” Your girlfriend smiled widely. “Happy one year.” She echoed back and pulled you down to kiss you again, just as gentle as before. You had to pull away, however, when a smile spread across your lips. Maria sighed softly as you pressed your forehead against her shoulder and set into silent giggles "You're thinking about that vine, aren't you?" With a tiny laugh, you nodded against her shoulder and she rolled her eyes "I'm in love with a dork." "Just a bit." Then you started kissing her neck as an apology for the inability you had to have a serious moment without thinking back to the many 3am vine compilation video binge sessions you had "I love you too though." "You better." Then, with her leg still wrapped around yours, she pushed up and turned the two of you so you were below her with her hands braced on either side of your head. The movement pulled your lips from her neck and she took that to move for another kiss. This one, you didn't mess up. Your left hand came to her jaw, your fingertips brushing against the nape of her neck as she gave a soft bite to your bottom lip while pulling away for just a second. She tilted her head to the side and deepened the kiss yet again. You whined against her lips and curled your right hand around her hip to tug her even closer "Scootch up." She muttered when she pulled away, unbuttoning her shirt as you shifted back onto the bed properly. You pulled your tank top off in one swift movement and threw it across the room, which made Maria stop in her efforts with two buttons left just so she could look at you. "What?" You asked with a smile. "It's so hot when you do that." "You're just saying that because you're horny." You muttered and Maria nodded slightly as she finished with her shirt and dropped it to the floor before hopping up onto the bed. She took two steps then fell to her knees, straddling you, as she spoke. "Maybe. What are you going to do about it?" You hooked your index fingers under the straps of her bra and tugged her closer so you could kiss her again. Your hands shamelessly went almost instantly to cup her ass and pull her further into your lap while she trailed her fingers down across your clavicle before softly placing them at your neck.

"I swear, the others are more trouble than they're worth." Natasha sighed as she walked into your room, dropping her shoes at the side of the door. You didn't move from kissing Maria, almost as though you hadn't realised she was there "For all the times Clint just goes AWOL, you'd think..." She cut herself off as she took in the sight on the bed "Really? You couldn't wait?" "Sorry, baby." Maria said as she pulled away from you. "She started talking about my hands; I had to stop her somehow." You pouted before pressing a few kisses to Maria's neck, specifically down the path of a vein that made her groan "You can catch up." Natasha looked over the two of you and then nodded once. "I guess I can." She sighed before taking her shirt off with one hand and crawling onto the bed.

Her fingers tangled in Maria's hair and guided her head back so they could kiss. Your lips carried on with their attention to Maria's neck, sucking small marks lower down her neck in areas that would be easily hidden if she zipped her jacket up fully for once. The lower you got, the more she arched against you and raised up to give you more places to kiss and bite. One of your hands trailed around her side to her stomach, drawing circles upwards until you cupped your fingers around one of her breasts. Natasha seemed to have the same idea; her fingers knocking against yours which made her break from the kiss and laugh softly. You pulled back to look at her with a little smile, kissing her for just a second "Sorry we didn't wait for you." You muttered but she just shook her head to it. "I'd have done the same." She said before bringing you in again, pulling away just as you tried to push forwards "And I'm much more patient than you." "I'm not patient." Maria said, a frown on her face "Can we please get back to celebrating? Please?" You shared a look with Natasha before swapping roles; you dragged Maria down into a kiss again while Nat focused on her neck, giving her identical marks on the opposite side to where your attentions had been.

Natasha's free hand, the one that wasn't preoccupied on Maria's breast, moved gently up the agent’s back, making her shudder, before making quick work of the clasp of her bra. In a second, due to the efforts of all three of you, it was across the room and Maria gasped as you and Natasha returned your touch to her now bare chest. She didn't seem to be able to deal with having idle hands any longer as her fingers tugged blindly at the knot of your workout pants. When she only succeeded in knocking her hands against her stomach, the knot unrelenting, she whined and pulled away from you to see what she was doing, pushing Natasha's head away when she only served to distract her more. "Want some help, darling?" Nat asked with a smile, teasing Maria’s nipple between her fingers while you were more set on tracing a spiral across her puckered skin. "No, let her figure it out." You tried not to laugh, especially with the glare that Maria set you with. "It's not too late for me to get rid of you, you know." That's what made you laugh, how seriously she said it, and you cupped her face so gently in your hands that it almost made her glare falter. "You would if you didn't love me. Gerroff, then we can get everything out of the way." Maria moved off you so you could easily undo the knot and tug your pants off to drop them beside the bed, while Maria didn't even bother with buttons before shedding her own trousers.

You cried out when Natasha gripped your ankles and tugged you to lie down on the bed properly before she crawled over you "Hi, sweetheart." She smiled and kissed you deeply before you could even think to reply "Today has been so unfair." She muttered against your lips "All I've wanted to do is kiss you. Fucking team bonding bullshit." "You can do a lot more than kiss me now, baby." You reminded her and the smile she gave was almost predatory before surging downwards instantly and latching her mouth around your right breast. Maria lay beside you and took your hand, pressing kisses across every section of your fingers with a look in her eyes that instantly got you suspicious "Say a single thing about my hands, I swear to god." You muttered breathlessly when Natasha flicked her tongue over the quickly hardening bud of your nipple before blowing a focused breath over it. “I wasn’t going to say a thing.” Maria smiled softly, though you were sure that she wanted to so gave her a look “Well, I was going to say-” You covered her mouth with your hand to stop her before she even started. Natasha looked up at you and rolled her eyes as she moved her attentions to your other breast. “Don’t.” You muttered and she licked your palm, making you scrunch your nose up and draw your hand away “Gross.” “Why do you think I’m gross? You know where I’ve been.” “Exactly.” You cried out suddenly as Nat bit you a bit harsher than she had done before "Nat." You whined and she looked up at you as she licked across the reddening mark around your nipple as an apology. "You two talk too much." She said for an excuse, with a shrug, before looking away from your eyes and kissing down your stomach.

Her lips made a path across your waist, across the outline of your panties, and sometimes let her tongue peak out against your skin. As she curled the fingers of one hand under the only scrap of fabric you had on, her short nails just barely scratching against your hip, the other tapped your thigh twice as a sign for you to lift up. When you did, it took hardly a second before your panties were across the room and Natasha put herself between your thighs with her hands underneath your body. Two fingers of her right hand stroked up across your slit slowly, spreading apart so she could expose your clit more easily. She removed her touch just to put one of your legs over her shoulder, arm curling over your thigh and parting your intimate lips again so she could instantly swipe her tongue from the bottom of your entrance up to your clit. Craving her touch all day, on such a day like this, seemed made it feel a hundred times better than usual and your brain short-circuited as she carried on her attentions. You didn’t notice, too caught up in what your gentle assassin was doing, that Maria slid off the bed and started to shift around in one of the side-drawers. Natasha noticed, however, and her eyes met Maria’s when the brunette stood with a strap-on in her hand and a sly little smile on her face. The redhead moaned against your clit, eyes sliding closed as she lifted her hips up slightly.

Maria trailed her hand down Natasha’s back, causing her to shudder and whine. Her back arched even more when Maria was behind her and started to slowly pull her almost skin tight workout pants down her ass. The brunette hardly even pulled them down to her ankles before she started to don the harness, softly moaning herself as the textured pad on the inside of the harness settled against her clit. With a little pout, as she looked over the sight of Natasha, she absently trailed a finger up and down the length of the toy. Nat, uncharacteristically impatient tonight, tried to entice Maria into doing /anything/ by shaking her ass slowly. In return, she got a light but still shocking slap. The sound of it caused you to open your eyes and look down at your lovers. The sight was incredibly arousing, especially when Maria sent a cocky wink your way. Almost the second that she did, she was slowly working the toy into Natasha.

The feeling seemed too much for Natasha to handle while keeping busy with you. She moved away to press her forehead against your thigh as she let out a shaky breath of a moan "Боже ты мой." (Oh my god) With a smile, you reached down and stroked your hand through Nat's hair slowly. "Does it feel good, baby?" You cooed. Her responding nod was strangely cute and you almost laughed. "Oh, it's been a while since one of us fucked you, hasn't it?" "Yes." Natasha whined, as Maria's hips pressed fully against hers. Maria's nose wrinkled with her smile. Her hands trailed over the assassin's back and thighs, soothing her until she started to slowly roll her hips against the bed and kiss your inner thighs. Maria took note and the two of you shared a look over her. When her lips came up to your pussy, slowly starting to build you up to orgasm again, Maria pulled out just a little before quickly filling her again. The little moans, groans, whimpers, from Natasha as Maria set a slow pace just served to turn you on even more and you had no shame in moving against her face as she carried on eating you out so perfectly.

Soon enough, Natasha had you on the edge of orgasm. Your movements and breaths started to become more frantic, your grip on her hair tightened just enough to make her softly moan, and it seemed like your whole world had fallen away to just you and your girls "Nat, baby, make me cum." Natasha rubbed at your clit with her fingers as she pulled away to talk. "Are you close, sweetheart?" "I'm almost there, just make me cum, please, I love you so much." You came, pretty soon after, with her lips around your clit and her name leaving your throat almost as a scream.

As you were recovering, Maria took that chance to really give it to Natasha since now she had nothing to be preoccupied with. She bent over more, bracing her hands on the bed either side of Nat, and fucked her deeper and harder than before. Nat was helpless to do much else than cling on to your still slightly trembling legs and moan near incoherently. Absently, you kept your fingers carding through her hair even after you had properly calmed down from your, frankly amazing, orgasm. You took a second to admire the expressions that crossed her face and let her muffle her moans against your thigh. Eventually, you decided to shift down the bed and put your fingers under her chin to make her look at you before you kissed her softly. She melted into it eagerly and you even felt a slight smile come across her lips, the two of you lazily kissing while Maria spattered the redhead’s shoulders with kisses of her own. Natasha pulled away from the kiss for just long enough to turn her head towards Maria and mutter “Harder.” “Of course.” Maria said with a smile, almost as breathless as Natasha was. How couldn’t she oblige? With a soft chuckle and a kiss to Nat’s cheek, she seemed to almost brace herself to work your girl harder. That just made Natasha whine out a deep moan and shudder in the pleasure.

After that, she barely lasted a minute before she was warning the both of you of her impending orgasm. You held her through it, as Maria took to nuzzling at her neck. When Maria deemed her ready, she pulled out though it caused a slightly overstimulated half-whine to tumble from Natasha’s lips when the toy stroked slightly against a sensitive spot inside her. Maria didn’t even bother taking the harness off before joining the two of you properly on the bed again. You looked over to her with a slightly amused smile at the sight “Did you cum yet, Ri?” Maria shook her head dismissively. “Not just yet. But we’ve got all night, right?” “Hear her, Nat?” You laughed softly “Maria thinks we should spend the entire night just fucking, not going out and celebrating another way.” “Sounds fine by me.” Natasha purred, turning onto her back and reaching up to trail her fingers across your jawline “Unless you really want to do something else.” The look she shot you was almost identical to Maria’s, both of them knowing that you really didn’t want to do anything but spend time with them this way. “I could be convinced otherwise.”

The Next Morning Afternoon

The morning perhaps didn’t go as planned.

You had fully intended to wake up and start the day off right with the girls, maybe start the morning off right with a quick extra bit of appreciation towards them, before joining the team for breakfast and carrying on your days. However, the three of you had exhausted plenty of energy with each other so easily slept through the morning; unfortunately that meant that you missed breakfast and also your absence eventually caused a bit of worry amongst the team.

At first, they assumed that sparring had taken it out of both you and Natasha (unaware of Maria’s presence in the tower), especially with how beat Nat had looked as she left, so left you both to rest up. When it hit around 11, however, it seemed to be a unanimous agreement that something was wrong. So, they decided to check around the tower. Evidently, not every room had cameras but the ones that did were checked first in case the two of you were just hiding out in one of the many recreation rooms that Tony had put around so that escape was possible without hiding in bedrooms all day. When the cameras showed nothing, they went to check your bedrooms. Not all together, obviously, but pretty much evenly split.

Natasha’s room was almost undisturbed. She hadn’t slept there for a few days, preferring to stay with you since your room was just slightly closer to the gym than hers and she had been going pretty hard recently, but that fact was obvious so just served to add to the suspicions of everyone. Tony was with Buck and Wanda to check your room. As he tried to open the door, Friday spoke up “I’m afraid Y/N has engaged the privacy lock.” Tony sighed. “Come on, just override it, we wanna check on her.” “She told me not to let anybody in.” “Friday, open the door or I swear to god I will reprogram you.” After a beat of silence, almost as though the AI was considering it, she spoke again. “Yes, boss.” The door slid open, exposing the room to the three.

Exposing the sight of you, Maria, and Natasha curled up together, Maria between the two of you, and almost completely bared if it wasn’t for the blanket that was tangled between you all.

“Holy fuck!” Was your unpleasant wakeup, jolting you from your sleep. Well, kinda. It also didn’t help that Natasha’s lightning fast reflexes made her shoot up and instinctively cover you and Maria with the blanket while pulling out a gun, which also made the intruders freak out quite loudly.

It didn’t take too long for you all to calm down, and for Maria to prise the gun from Natasha’s fingers, but the silence took a while to be broken “So.” Tony said with a half-smile “This is…Unexpected.” “Tony.” You sighed. “I mean, I’m never going to complain about having this sort of view.” “Tony, I’m going to punch you if you carry on.” Having seen exactly what your fists could do, Tony was quick to shut up and almost sink down into himself “Right, so you probably have questions so I’ll make this quick because I would love to get back to cuddles.” Maria and Natasha smiled softly, especially as you rubbed your eyes “We’re all in a relationship, it’s not just sexual –Tony, keep your eyes decent I swear to God-, Maria and Natasha were together first, I don’t get jealous of their relationship. Anything I’ve missed?” “How long have you been together?” Bucky asked quietly. A goofy smile came across your face and you reached for Maria’s hand. “A year. Exactly, as of yesterday.” Maria answered for you “Now, can we please…just have the day?” Buck nodded once, and muttered a ‘sure’ before leaving. “See you later, have fun.” Wanda smiled, almost suggestively, and let you be with a slight nod.

Tony, however, stayed for a second and seemed to start speaking his train of thought but cut himself off each time before he could say a word. After the fourth time, Natasha sighed “Tony, either talk or get out.” “Happy one year.” “I’m 35.” The assassin said, without hesitation, in the ‘dumb blonde’ voice from the vine. Maria groaned and fell back to lying down. “The two of you fucking nerds, I swear to god.” A fond smile came across Tony’s face and he let out a soft chuckle. “I’ll leave you three to it.” The door quietly clicked closed behind him, and the second that it did Maria grabbed both you and Natasha to pull you back down to cuddle her on either side.

You didn’t ask any questions when the three of you suddenly got sent matching necklaces, that were far above what all of you could afford.

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saultnpeppah · 4 years ago

Text

Day 4: Save the Date

May 2. Prince Residence - Santorini, Greece. 17:47.

Bruce

"Don't even think about it, Bruce."

Diana stares at me from the corner of her eye, her brow furrowed in an attempt to seem serious, but the faint curl of her lip into that devious smile shows me she is still giddy from talking about the wedding. We've been talking about this, what we want to incorporate, who we want there to celebrate alongside us, where we want to have it, and all are things we can agree on easily or are quick to compromise on, but there is still one thing neither of us can settle on: a date. Since proposing two months ago, Diana and I have constantly gone back and forth, both set on our own timeline for our impending nuptials. Diana would like to wait a while, get everything in order, plan properly and have plenty of time to get things settled with work. Me? Hell, I would marry her this afternoon if I could.

I had waited long enough to be in a relationship with her, waited even longer to tell her how I truly felt. I didn't want to waste anymore time unnecessarily, wanting to start my life as her husband as soon as possible.

"What?" I ask innocently, absentmindedly flipping through one of the open magazines atop the bed we lay on, casually discussing the wedding and other events that will fill the year's calendar, waiting on Hippolyta to come back from the office. "You don't think a nice summer wedding would be wonderful," I ask, tilting my head as I flash that smirk I know she can't ignore.

Diana, who has her own wedding magazine grasped firmly in her own hands, turns her head to glare at me, shaking it profusely at the question. "Not if it's this summer," she comments. "You know how much we have going on in the museum right now. That is not enough time to get everything done."

"You forget who you're marrying," I say, but the look in Diana's eyes as she turns to face me once more tells me she is in no mood to discuss the idea any further. I let out a sigh and fall back onto the bed we have been sharing for the last few days, staring up into the ceiling of the villa Hippolyta owns. This trip had been planned months in advance and I had hoped seeing the beautiful weather back in her hometown would persuade Diana that a summer wedding, with the sunshine and ocean breeze providing the perfect backdrop, would be the picture perfect wedding. She had politely shut down that idea, stating both our work schedules would not allow us to take much time off during the summer.

I had offered to hire a wedding planner, wanting to lighten a bit of stress of the load Diana had been carrying, but she simply refused. She wanted to do this herself, and I wasn't going to deny her that.

"What about March?" she asks, her eyebrow raising as she mentally plans a few details, convinced I will agree, and as much as I would love to, I have prior obligations.

"I'll be in Germany for half the month," I say, reminding her of the business trip that has been in the works for over a year. Her eyes close and she lets out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as she grows increasingly more frustrated. "I'm still loving the summer wedding," I comment once more, the cocky smirk on my face growing as I reach out to touch her back. Her shoulders tense and she closes the magazine in her hands, placing it on top of the mattress as she swings her feet over the edge of the bed and stands.

"I've already said no," she says, trying to keep her voice calm.

"Why are you so stubborn," I find myself asking, however seeing her shoulders tense even more, I realize the comment should have never left my lips. Diana turns to face me, her face tensing as she becomes angry, huffs, and storms out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind her as she stomps down the stairs. "Why, Bruce," I reprimand myself, "why must you push her buttons."

Getting out of bed, I carefully place the magazine I had absentmindedly been browsing through back onto the pile by the foot of the bed, and follow Diana out of the room. Descending the stairs I can hear her talking to someone in Greek. Her tone is angry, and even though I've picked up a few words and phrases since high school, she's speaking too quickly for me to comprehend anything.

Diana finishes and lets out a huff as her companion chuckles before she responds, letting me know it is Donna she has run into and has been complaining to about me; if there was one word I understood throughout that entire rant, it was my name.

I turn the corner, forcing myself from my hiding spot, and step into the family room. Diana and Donna quiet when they see me, the three of us staring at each other, until Diana lets out a huff and walks out the room. When I try to take a step toward my fiance, Donna steps in the way, places a hand on my shoulder, and shakes her head. "Let her cool down," she says calmly, and as much as I want to apologize to Diana, I know Donna is right about her sister.

I give Donna a reluctant nod and throw my head back, letting out a sigh as her hand retreats from my shoulder. She takes a seat on the edge of the couch and waits for me to follow, her blue eyes staring at me until I comply and take a seat on the chair across from her. Her eyes continue to stare at me, watching every breath I take, studying me. Since the moment Diana and I announced we were dating, she has kept a close eye on me, and for good reason. Diana is her sister, and she would never let anything happen to her.

The two have been close, well as close as two people with an age gap as big as theirs can be. Ten years her junior, Donna joined the family when Diana was just heading off to college. After her mother died, and her father had abandoned her, Hippolyta and Diana were the only family Donna had, and after much consideration, and much convincing from Diana, Hippolyta had taken the child in and raised her like her own. At first it had been an adjustment, as Donna had just become an orphan at the age of eight, something I knew much too well, but Diana spent most of the summer before college helping her become acclimated to life with her mother, and again the following summer when Hippolyta had decided they were going to move back to Greece. In fact, our first year of college, I don't think Diana spent an entire weekend on campus, choosing to make the three hour drive each Friday night to spend time with Donna.

Diana knew Donna needed a friend, and after having her own father walk out on her life, Diana knew she could form a connection with her. She gave her advice on how to deal with Hippolyta's constant overbearing nature, even if it was out of love, and the two became inseparable. Donna was part of the reason Diana had returned to Greece for a time, knowing the girl was having a hard time acclimating to the country and her new found family. It was one of the reasons I fell in love with Diana. She was, is, so willing to sacrifice her own personal needs for her family, leaving the country to help the distant relative she didn't know she hadn't known about for years.

But as I continue to watch Donna stare at me, I wonder just how distant the two are. Donna looks just like Diana. The two have the same dark wavy hair, the same piercing blue eyes, the same tall, muscular, yet slender build. It's uncanny.

"So, she's pretty angry?" I ask, even though I know the answer. Diana doesn't storm off much, but when she does, it's usually because she has good reasons. I only hope I can apologize before I ruin the rest of the trip for her. It's not very often she gets to see her family and I want her to have nothing but the best of times.

Donna nods and chuckles, leaning back into the couch as her arms fold over her chest. "Understandably so," she comments. She watches my face, watching as I raise an eyebrow in confusion, before she adds, "Bruce, it's not that Diana doesn't want to get married as soon as possible. She does. But did you ever think that maybe this summer isn't the best time for her?"

I nod. I know she has a million and one things to do and maybe I've been a bit selfish about this whole thing. I can move my schedule around much easier than Diana can, and I never took into consideration how preoccupied with work she has been. I suddenly feel like an idiot and a jerk for the comments I've made to Diana.

"When she came to Greece, she gave up a job offer in New York," Donna explains, "and when she got back to Gotham, she had to fight for the job she has now." I never knew she gave up a job offer. I want to ask Diana about it when I see her again, but the look on Donna's face tells me I should think otherwise. She looks guilty. She looks as though she blames herself for Diana giving up that dream job to come and help her through a rough patch, and the look in her eyes tells me she will never stop feeling that way. I suddenly realize it is not something that needs to be brought up again.

"When the two of you started dating, and Diana got into the papers and tabloids, there was talk about her being dismissed from her job."

Her words spark an emotion in me that I can only describe as both anger and sadness. I never wanted Diana to lose her job, lose anything, because of me. I knew when we started dating the press was going to have a field day with printing any and all details about our relationship, no matter how accurate or fabricated they had been. Her life was going to be scrutinized by people who knew nothing about her, and although I tried to keep her name out of the papers, never wanting that for her, I suppose rumors and lies spread elsewhere. Had I known her job had been in jeopardy, I would have been a bit more cautious on how we approached everything.

"She never told me this," I say. My hand clenches into a fist and I take a deep breath, trying to control the anger that is rising within my chest.

Donna shrugs. "I told her to, but Diana is stubborn. You and I both know that." She lets out a chuckle and adds, "Hell, all of Santorini knows this." While Diana in the spotlight is not a new development, after all, her mother is essentially royalty here in Greece, she hasn't been in the papers since she was eight. But even as a child, she was as stubborn and headstrong as she is now, and if Hippolyta's stories are any forewarning, any children we have are going to be nearly impossible to sway away from something they want.

"She convinced them your relationship would not affect her job, and she's made good on that promise for over a year. Diana has worked hard, has put in extra hours, has proved herself time and time again. If she neglects her duties to get married this summer, when there are two galas and another exhibit planning to open in September, who knows how this is going to affect her."

My heart sinks when I realize everything Donna has said is true. I never knew Diana's job had been threatened because of her association with me, but if I had paid attention, I would've seen the signs. I knew Diana worked hard, harder than most, but I never knew it was because she feared losing her job. After all, she had already given up one dream job, I couldn't be the reason behind her losing another. I am suddenly overwhelmed by guilt. I have been selfish, more so than usual, and I owe her so much more. I should be working with Diana, not against her. I should be getting married when we both feel it is right. It isn't right of me to want to rush her for my own selfish wants.

"I'm an idiot," I mumble, dropping my head into my hands and letting out a sigh.

"No," someone says, and my head snaps up to see both Hippolyta and Antiope, her girlfriend, standing behind Donna. Hippolyta offers me a small smile and takes a seat next to Donna, placing her arm around the girl that has become her second daughter, before she leans in and kisses the teen's head. "You're not an idiot, Bruce," she says as she stares at me and I wonder just how much of this conversation she and Antiope have heard. "You two have been best friends for years, so naturally you've both clicked fairly well for a majority of the time. Sure there have been a few spats here and there and as I recall you two didn't talk for nearly a month your Junior year."

I try not to let my face give away anything, as the only reason Diana and I had gotten into that argument resulting in our avoidance of each other in the first place was because we had slept together. Once we started talking again, deciding to forget about the whole thing, Diana had let it slip that she had lied to her mother saying we had argued about a class project, but Hippolyta was smart.

"And don't think I didn't know why you were arguing," she says, narrowing her eyes at me. Guess Diana wasn't as convincing as she thought. "The point is," she begins, "You two need to be flexible and take each others' needs and priorities into account. There are going to be days when you're not readily available for her and there will be days when she's not readily available for you. You work through it, and compromise."

As Hippolyta finishes her lecture, Antiope walks up to the woman and takes a seat beside her, placing a hand on the older woman's knee. "That and you'll have to learn the Prince women are stubborn but they mean well," she teases, turning to Hippolyta who only scowls, offended by her comment.

"How dare you," Hippolyta says, feigning insult as Donna and Antiope share a laugh. Antiope kisses Hippolyta's cheek and offers me a smile, however I am only convinced that everything is going to be okay when Hippolyta joins in and smiles widely as well. "Don't worry, Bruce," she says, "you two will figure it out."

XXXXXXX

It is dark when the door to Diana and my shared bedroom creaks open and she walks inside, her skin covered in a sheen of sweat and her cheeks are flushed. Her earbuds are still in her ears, blasting the soundtrack to her run, so she doesn't hear that I am still up, but I haven't been able to stop thinking since she left. For the past three hours I have done nothing but think, and now that she's here, I want to run a new idea by her.

She continues to bob her head as the music continues to flow through the wireless devices, her heart rate still elevated from running the all too familiar streets of her childhood home. A part of me wants to reach out and touch her arm, wipe the sweat from her brow, and let her know I'm awake, but I also enjoy watching her as she sits on the edge of the bed, slowly pulling her shirt over her head. She turns to flip on the light by the bed, letting out a small shriek when she sees me sitting up and staring at her.

Her hand instinctively goes to cover her bra clad chest before she realizes it's only me and lets out a sigh of relief. "I didn't realize you were still up," she whispers. She pulls the earbuds from her ears and places them in their charging container, carefully placing them on the desk beside the window along with her phone.

I quietly flip on the bedside lamp, watching as she pulls the tie from her hair, letting it fall out of the ponytail into a pool down her back, before she pulls off her socks and tosses them into the adjoining bathroom. "Couldn't sleep," I confess. It's partially true. I couldn't sleep without Diana here, safe and sound beside me, but I wanted to make sure she knew I was sorry for everything that happened this evening.

I pat the spot on the bed next to where I lay and I watch as she contemplates the offer, lets out a small sigh, and obliges, laying down beside me. I let her get comfortable before I roll onto my side, watching as her eyes widen in surprise, before I lean down and kiss her softly. "I'm all sweaty," she whispers, letting me know she wants to shower soon, before she kisses me back.

I nod. "I know," I start, "but I want to talk to you before you jump into the shower." She gives me a nod and sits up, watching as I copy her pose, sitting in the center of the mattress. I grab her hand and give it a gentle squeeze, before I lift it to my lips and place a kiss on the back of her hand. "I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't realize how selfish I was being about this whole thing."

She says nothing so I continue, "You have given up so much for me. You've been scrutinized by the media, and I know planning this with work hasn't been easy." She raises an eyebrow and shakes her head, unable to believe Donna told me what she had confided in her sister about her job. I know she doesn't want me to worry, but I can't help it. I love her so much and her problems, by default, become mine.

"Donna told you?" she asks. I only nod and she lets out another sigh. "Bruce, I never wanted you to feel like I couldn't come to you. I just-"

"I know, Diana," I say. I know she can handle herself. I know she doesn't need me to save her. "I'm sorry."

Diana scoots over to where I sit and places her head on my shoulder, gently kissing the skin of my shoulder, and I wrap my arms around her, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. "I do want to ask your opinion on something," I say and she nods against my skin. "We started our relationship on the first," I begin. "Maybe that's when we should get married?"

Diana tenses for a moment, pondering over what I've just said, before she pulls back and looks me in the eye. "A winter wedding?" she asks.

I nod, flash her a smile, and bite my bottom lip as I consider the option I've just given her. "To persuade you a little more," I begin, "Neither of us will be swamped with work during that time. We both are free from other obligations, and we're going to have family around anyway."

She stares at me, contemplating what I've said. I can see her mind is running a million miles a minute, her eyes shifting from my face to the wall behind me as she tries to see if this is a viable option. I watch as she begins to count on her fingers, mentally calculating everything. "Two years ago I started the year as your boyfriend. Next year I'd love to start the year as your husband."

She is still for a moment before she turns to face me and smiles. She leans in and places a kiss on my lips, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me close. "January 1st," she says, "Did we just agree on a date?"

I am unable to help the smile that forms on my lips as she leans in for another kiss. "Yes," I answer and she gets giddy. The wedding planning is back on and now with a date set in place, we can finally get back to planning for the wedding and our future.

She rises from the bed and walks to the bathroom, discarding her leggings when she steps into the bathroom. She turns to face me and raises an eyebrow, flashing a smirk toward where I sit, the hint obvious. "Is my fiance going to join me?" she asks flirtatiously, disappearing behind the bathroom door. Her bra is discarded onto the floor and it is all the motivation I need as I jump off the bed and rush toward the bathroom where Diana has started the shower, letting the room fill with the steam provided by the hot water.

Diana squeals when I discard my own clothes once I'm inside the bathroom and wrap my arms around her, pulling her against my naked body. January first this woman is going to be my wife, and I cannot wait until I see her walk down that aisle, ready to start the rest of our lives together. Only eight more months to go.

@fyeahwonderbat

#StepsToTheAltar #wonderbat #brucexdiana #fanfiction #au #savethedate

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tamakiamajikistentacles · 5 years ago

Text

Stay Safe {Eijirou Kirishima}

She had woken up to a text from her boyfriend timestamped way too early in the morning.

"Work study needs the big guns! won't have my phone most of the day but I'll call you when I'm on my way back to the dorms. Have a good day in class and take great notes for me to copy"

Smiling, she typed back assurances of his capabilities and a request for his safety, the red heart emoji ending her message.

It wasn't too out of the ordinary for him to be leaving for his work study earlier than she left for class, but it had never been that early. Usually he was also late coming back to the dorms, so a lot of their interactions lately were either quick kisses good morning or good night depending.

The best days, though, were the days he didn't need to go into Fat Gum's agency and sat in class just like her. Those were the days she'd come to love because they got to see each other from dawn until hours after dusk; they could eat all three meals together, study together, curl up together in one of their dorms and just talk.

She was so happy for him when he began his work study and her pride shone on her face each time it was mentioned because he was barreling his way onto the hero scene at a breakneck speed. And God, did she love to see him advancing towards his dream.

With a sigh, she rose from her bed and set about getting ready for her day of classes.

School dragged heavily as it usually did when Kirishima wasn't around for lessons. She managed, of course, but days were so much brighter with the redhead to bridge the social gaps between classmates.

The class was smaller lately with several of the work study students out on concurrent days. Study groups formed shrank down to more manageable numbers in the evenings too.

It was after her own study group with Mina, Sero, and Kaminari was finished that she made her way up to her dorm room, the elevator doors parting and allowing her to trudge past Uraraka's room to her own.

She bent down to set her messenger bag next to her desk and straightened to open her laptop, allowing it time to boot up as she began her nighttime routine. All the while she was hyper aware of her phone's silence.

Once finished with brushing her teeth and hair, washing her face, and changing into her pajamas, she came back to her desk and sat down to work on her literature essay for Cementoss' class. It was due to be turned in on Monday so being half done on Thursday night was decent progress. Her goal was to be finished by Friday night so that her weekend was relatively free to spend with her friends and boyfriend since the weather was forecasted to be beautiful.

The hands on the clock ticked closer to double digits and the sound of Bakugo returning from his provisional license remedial course, cursing the time because of the sleep he would be losing, were all that she heard as she typed. Here and there the elevator would let out a ding or the occasional door would be heard opening and closing but as the moon rose higher in the sky, her phone remained quiet.

It was later than when he usually returned, and part of her was worried that he was overworking himself with the early start and late return, but he was his own person and she knew he would push himself to the ends of the earth to fulfill his dream of becoming a pro hero. Still, she would look out for his wellbeing regardless.

As it stood, she needed to look out for her own interests for the time being. With roughly one more page left to finish for her literature essay, she saved her work and turned off her laptop, the charging cord securely in place as she left it to power up overnight. She crawled into bed after flicking off her overhead light and grabbed her phone from her bedside table to tap out a quick message to her boyfriend.

“I hate that I didn’t get to see you today but I know you’re working hard out there with Fat Gum and Amajiki. Get some sleep once you’re back and I’ll see you as soon as I can Red Riot”

She made sure her ringer was set high enough to wake her from sleep and set it back on her nightstand, curling into her blankets in hopes that her text alert would go off sooner rather than later.

So it was with both sadness and worry that the next sound she heard from her phone was her morning alarm. With no contact from Kirishima, still, after over 24 hours, she felt a knot begin to form in her stomach.

Though it seemed that none of the work study students had been seen since the night before last either. Dorm neighbors confirmed that none of them had returned to their rooms at all during the night and speculation started to run rampant throughout the entirety of the class.

It wasn’t until 9:30 when she was sitting in Present Mic’s English class next to Mina that some light was shed.

Mr. Aizawa had not been in homeroom for the second day in a row, All Might taking his place as a substitute to go over more information in regards to their provisional hero licenses and an upcoming exam review. Aizawa’s absence was of course questioned but only the reply of “assisting with an important matter” was given.

Now Present Mic’s normally boisterous personality was dulled in a way that mirrored her own, worry and some confusion being read on his face as he stumbled through a lesson on adjectives. This had also been questioned—albeit more quietly—but before anything further could be said, the class was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Principal Nezu accompanied by Hound Dog came into the room and pulled Mic aside, Hound Dog observing the students until his gaze landed on her. Her brows furrowed before shooting up in surprise as a loud “WHAT?!” came from their teacher. Mic hurried from the room and Nezu turned to address the class.

“Good morning students!” he said cheerily, one paw lifted in a wave. “I must apologize for interrupting, but you see, Present Mic has a personal matter to attend to and will not be overseeing classes for the rest of the day. I do ask that you use your remaining class time productively as a sort of study hall due to the circumstances.”

Confused muttering rose from the students as a few of them grouped together to work on other assignments. Just as she began to turn towards Mina, Nezu called her name and advised she bring her belongings with a gesture to follow him.

“Yes, sir?” she asked hesitantly, fiddling with the strap of her bag.

“Once again, I do apologize for interrupting your class, however the matter that calls Present Mic away does the same to you,” he began as they walked down the hallway towards Hound Dog’s office.

She frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“That is to be expected,” the principal mused as they entered the office and took their seats. “You are in a relationship with Eijirou Kirishima, am I correct?” At her nod, he continued, “Mr. Kirishima’s work study has involved him with the rescue of a young girl held captive by the Shie Hassaikai sect of the Yakuza. This operation began yesterday at approximately 8:30am and concluded just a short time ago at 9:15 this morning. While successful, the raid did leave several injured heroes, of which Mr. Kirishima was one of them. I imagine what I’m saying is extremely disconcerting, but I can assure you that he is alive and expected by preliminary examinations to make a full recovery.”

Owlish eyes blinked back at him, unfocused.

Hound Dog sighed sympathetically, the sound coming out as more of a snuffle as he reached across his desk to gently pat her hands where they sat clasped loosely on her lap.

“Of course, Hound Dog is here to provide any necessary guidance services that you may need, howe-“

“Can I see him?” she interrupted in a hoarse whisper. “Can I see Eijirou? Which hospital is he being taken to?”

Nezu smiled and extended his paws out over his head. “Why of course! I was just about to offer you the opportunity to accompany All Might, Present Mic, and myself to the hospital. Would you like to take your things to your dorm room or take them with you?”

“I’ll give them to Mina, she can drop it off during her break.”

“Very well, please meet us at the main gate and we shall visit our heroes, hm?”

She stood, bowing to the men in front of her. “Thank you both for informing me of the situation. I’m extremely grateful.”

Once she left the office, she hurried back to the English classroom to drop her things off with Mina, all the while her thoughts blurred between what the principal had told her and pure panic at the thought of the state in which she would find her boyfriend when she finally got to see him.

As she reached the classroom she scanned over her fellow students, noting the absence of Mina, Sero, and Kaminari, the three friends more than likely taking their now free time to hit the vending machines near one of the student lounges.

She laid a hand against the doorframe with a defeated sigh, her eyes closing tightly as they started to burn with the threat of overwhelmed tears.

“Hey.”

The gruff voice made her open her eyes, seeing Bakugo looking at her from his seat near the doorway, the noise of the other students purely static behind him.

“Was it about Kirishima?” he asked, crimson eyes locked with hers. His tone of voice implied that he knew the answer already.

She nodded, biting her lip. “He’s- I need to go to him, and I wanted to ask Mina to- I didn’t want to take my things-“

“Your dorm locked?” he interrupted, and she shook her head. “Leave your shit with me and I’ll drop it in your room. I’m on the same floor so it’s not a big deal.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, placing her bag at the foot of his desk.

He clicked his tongue and looked away from her. “Go see your shitty boyfriend.”

A tiny smile curled on her lips as she took one last glance to the ash blonde before heading out to the front of the school, joining the staff members at the main gate where a car was waiting to take them to their destination.

By the time they reached the hospital, it was nearly eleven. Her fingers were fidgeting with the sleeve of her blazer the entire ride and the nervous action refused to let up as she walked the secured corridors with her school’s staff members. The strong smell of antiseptics did nothing to calm the churning of her stomach the deeper into the current hero ward they ventured.

So many heroes were in different rooms being treated with various injuries, some grouped up speaking in low voices of what their role in the raid had been and others unconscious in beds they passed. It was overwhelming how large the operation had been, and yet not a single word had been said to anyone until it was over.

Her mind wandered to contemplating where her boyfriend was, worry sitting heavily in her chest at what state she would find him in when she got to him.

“Go ahead, Mic,” she heard Principal Nezu say, and she looked up in time to see Present Mic dart into one of the rooms on their right. As she passed by, she saw Mic clinging to Aizawa and noticed that, for once, he was speaking in a tone so soft that his words could not be heard.

Feeling as though she were intruding on a private moment, she looked away.

A moment later, All Might also broke off to hurriedly enter a room shrouded by curtains that came nearly to the linoleum floor. She could just make out Recovery Girl’s cane through the gap, and she hoped that good news would be found within the room.

She turned to ask Nezu if her boyfriend’s parents had been informed and if they were also in the hospital, but before the words could form on her tongue, a tall blonde man stepped up to the both of them, a Sukiya takeout bag in his hands.

“Principal Nezu!” he greeted. “It’s great to see you again, sir! I gotta tell ya, these students of yours are on track to be some amazing pros!”

“Ah, Fat Gum, it’s wonderful to see you as well! I’m happy to hear that our efforts to train the next generation of heroes are indeed paying off. In fact, I am accompanied by another of our students in the hero course, who is also the significant other of Red Riot.”

She introduced herself politely, feeling awkward at meeting one of the more well-known heroes in the area and the sensei of her boyfriend.

“Great to meet you!” Fat Gum said happily. “Kirishima’s told Amajiki and I so much about you during patrols, it’s great to put a face to the name! He was a huge asset during this operation, and he has so much to be proud of; he’s truly proved himself to be worthy of following in Crimson Riot’s footsteps. Without him, I don’t think I would be standing here talking to you.”

Warmth spread through her, a sense of pride in the man she was lucky enough to call hers.

“I’m sure you’re eager to see him—he’s down in room 22 on the right. Just to warn you, he’s pretty beat up, but he’s gonna be just fine!”

“Thank you so much!” she said, bowing slightly before rushing down the corridor until she came to the plaque reading 22 with “E. Kirishima” listed right below it.

She turned into the room, her steps hesitant as she took in the sight of the bandaged redhead laid on the bed staring out the window.

“Eijirou?”

He let out a quiet gasp before turning towards her, eyes wide with surprise at seeing her in front of him. Slowly, his lips curled into a smile, and he held out a hand towards her.

“Babe, I’m so glad to see you!”

She moved to his bedside and gingerly took his outstretched hand between the both of hers, sitting down in the chair to his left. Her thumb stroked the back of his hand as her eyes trailed over the bandages across his broad chest and the length of his arms. Even his handsome face had taken damage with gauze taped to his right cheek amongst other scratches and bits of dirt.

“Hey, I’m alright,” he said softly, squeezing her hand. “Don’t look so sad, okay? I’m really sorry I worried you.”

She rolled her lips into her mouth. “Honestly, I was worried when I didn’t hear from you last night and my stomach’s been in knots since Nezu told me you were hurt… but I’m so happy that you’re alright. I’m not upset, Ei, I’m actually really really proud of you.”

His lips parted in surprise. “Proud?”

“Yes, proud,” she chuckled. “On my way to your room I ran into Fat Gum who told me that you were a huge part of the raid and that because of you, he was still standing. He said that you’ve got so much to be proud of, and I know that he’s right when he says you’re going to be an amazing pro hero one day.”

Her boyfriend blushed and averted his eyes to look down at the cream-colored blanket over his legs.

“I like that I can make you blush,” she said with a small smile.

“I like that you can, too,” he murmured, raising his gaze to her once again. “I’m really glad that this mission went as well as it did. We saved a little girl, you know? She’s… she’s only six, and they were taking her blood so that they could use her quirk to make a drug that permanently takes away someone’s quirk. Lemillion… they told me that he was hit with the drug.”

She frowned, her grip on his hands tightening. The fact that the little girl was safe was absolutely amazing and gave her more cause to persevere in her pursuit of a pro hero’s license to help others just like her. But on the other hand, the idea that Mirio Togata could no longer live that dream after nearly completing his time at UA was devastating.

Another thought that sent a chill down her spine was what if Eijirou had been hit with the drug instead? If the enemy had gotten the shot in before he had activated his quirk, Red Riot would have been over before he truly began. The thought alone made her feel sick to her stomach—to think that the boy she had watched become a man wouldn’t have been able to live out his ideals on the world’s stage… God, she couldn’t even picture it.

“I’m so happy you came back to me in one piece,” she finally said, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “Not sure I could’ve handled it if you were banged up worse than this.”

“I’m Red Riot, babe!” he said brightly, sharp smile reassuring. “It wouldn’t be very manly of me to make you worry and then be too hurt to comfort you! I’ve gotta stay safe so I can come back to you, after all.”

She giggled, feeling the apples of her cheeks flushed with the absolute adoration she felt for the redhead in front of her.

“Let’s get you healed so we can get back to Heights Alliance, yeah?” she suggested. “Everyone’s going to want to hear about your mission, but once they do, I get you all to myself, got it? We’ll have two days of cuddles to make up for by then.”

“Yes ma’am,” he grinned, moving towards her.

She leaned forward in the plastic chair, one of her hands lifting to run through his hair before coming down to cup his unbandaged cheek. Her lips pressed against his easily, each of them relaxing into the contact they’d been deprived of for over a day and a half.

Kirishima felt relief at being able to kiss her again. Throughout the raid he had worried that his spirit would truly break and he would lose her, or that he wouldn’t make it out of the underground maze they had been trapped in and she would be pulled from class once his own body was recovered. He had been terrified for either outcome because of the emotional connection he felt to her. He wanted to scream out that it was love, that he had found the girl of his dreams in high school and that five months in he knew she was the only one for him. But there was hesitance that it was too soon to say such monumental words.

Had he not made it through the mission, though, she would never have known how he felt about her.

Pulling apart, they lazily opened their eyes to look at one another once again. Her hand on his cheek moved back up to run through his hair, now limp from the worn gel he had used over a day ago to spike it up.

“Babe?” he whispered.

She hummed. “What is it, Eiji?”

His heart thundered in his chest as he prepared to tell her the three words he felt he should’ve said ages ago.

“I-“

“Kirishima, I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get in to see you, my dear boy.”

They both turned to see Recovery Girl coming into the room with Fat Gum behind her, this time holding a curry rice dish from Matsuya and looking plumper than he had when she first saw him in the hallway.

Her hand fell from his hair and returned to his, her gaze coming back to his eyes, questioning.

Kirishima smiled softly, giving her hands a squeeze. “We’ll talk about it when we get back to the dorms tonight.”

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manako-no-yami · 5 years ago

Link

when your soulmate has too much health insurance

Rating: T Relationship(s): DazAtsu, a bit of sskk Tags: Hospitals, Soulmates, Fluff and Humor, Nursing Student!Atsushi, Dazai-Typical Suicide References Summary:

Atsushi, nursing student at the Yokohama hospital, is having a bad day. A bad few days, actually. In a world where soulmates share each other’s pain, Atsushi has had the bad luck of being paired with someone who is constantly getting hurt. On top of that, he has to deal with one particularly annoying patient—who seems determined to come back to see him at every chance he gets.

for day 8 of @dazaimultishipweek2019!

Atsushi is having a bad day. His side aches like a bitch, he has a headache, he’s barely slept in three days, and all he wants to do is lie down and maybe illegally administer himself some morphine.

He shifts, and his side gives him a sympathy twinge. He sighs.

I wonder if you’re having a bad day, too, he thinks to himself. And why on earth do you keep getting hurt?

Maybe it’s illogical to worry about someone you’ve never met, but, well. Soulmates defy logic, anyway.

Imagine this: the universe gives you one clue to who your “other half” is, and that clue is—of all things—pain . There’s probably some message there about people being brought together over shared suffering, but, well, if that’s so, Atsushi isn’t sure if he wants to know what the universe thinks of humanity.

So he deals with phantom aches and pains that he receives from his soulmate, tries his best not to get hurt himself, and studies hard to get a job in the medical field.

(Maybe it’s illogical. Maybe it’s just the universe’s fucked up sense of irony. But Atsushi can’t help but worry, sometimes, about how often his soulmate seems to get hurt.

And if that’s one of the reasons why he decided to go into medicine, well…who’s going to know?)

“Atsushi!” Yosano-sensei calls. Atsushi quickly stands up from his seat by the nurse’s station, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the drowsiness.

“Yes, sensei?”

“Attend to the patient in room 107.”

Atsushi tilts his head in confusion. He’d been so sure he’d covered all the rooms assigned to him…

He nods, anyway, giving the doctor a quick bow as he passes.

He stops by the door, and gives himself a quick pat down—his scrubs are a bit wrinkled, but they’ll do (they’re dark blue with a repeating pattern of little white tigers running all over it—a welcoming gift from the team when he first started here as a nursing student). Finally, he slaps his cheeks lightly, puts on his best customer service smile—bedside manner is important, after all—and opens the door.

“Hello! How are you doing tod—oh it’s you again.”

The man sitting on the hospital bed gives him a cheerful wave.

Dazai Osamu. Also known as: the hospital’s most frequent client and visitor, a nightmare for insurance, chronic malingerer, professional pain in the ass, and the most annoying patient Atsushi has ever had the misfortune to tend to.

“Atsushi-kun!” Dazai calls out delightedly. “Looking well today, I see.”

Atsushi is quite sure he looks like absolute crap, actually.

“Thanks. So are you. Which begs the question: what are you here for this time?”

Dazai holds up a bandaged arm, and points at it emphatically with a dramatic pout.

Atsushi blinks.

Dazai is always covered in bandages. Just what is he supposed to be looking at?

“Would you believe it? I left the window by the kitchen open, and a stray cat came in! I tried to pet it, but then it scratched me and knocked over the pot that was cooking.”

Atsushi frowns.

“Is the cat okay?”

“Is the—yes, the cat’s okay. But aren’t you worried about me, Atsushi-kun? I am bedridden from this terrible disaster!”

Atsushi hugs his clipboard close, narrowing his eyes at Dazai.

“Dazai-san, with all due respect, this is the fifth time you’ve come in this week, and none of it was for a legitimate reason. I’m surprised they keep letting you occupy beds at this rate.”

And why does Yosano-sensei keep asking me to tend to you? Since when did I become Dazai-san’s designated caretaker??

Dazai gasps. “I’m wounded!”

Atsushi rolls his eyes. “If only. How bad is the burn?”

Dazai shrugs. “I’m not quite sure.”

There’s a pause. Atsushi squints at him again, edging nearer to inspect Dazai more closely. Bandages don’t quite look fresh, so they haven’t been newly dressed, no pinkish or reddish skin, no visible discomfort from chafing...

“Dazai-san…” Atsushi pinches his nose. “Did the pot or its contents actually hit you when it was knocked over?”

Dazai flashes him an absolutely cherubic smile.

“Are you hoping for some grave injury to befall me so you can keep me to yourself longer? How sly of you. Why, Atsushi-kun, if you wanted to spend time with me, you could’ve just said so! By the way, I’m free Friday after five.”

Ah, yes. In addition to being a total pain in the ass, Dazai is also resident hottie and fuckboi. All the nurses like to moon over him, and he’s definitely aware of it. His looks? Sublime. His attitude? Atrocious. His favorite pastime? Teasing Atsushi.

Atsushi sighs. He knows from experience that there’s not much he can do to get Dazai to leave faster—he’ll either cause a dramatic and embarrassing (for Atsushi) scene, or he’ll find a way to get injured and come back before the day is over.

Atsushi’s learned to just ignore him.

It’s not like he’s serious about any of his advances, anyway, he thinks to himself.

“That’s a no, then. I’ll never understand how you even manage to weasel your way into this part of the hospital, Dazai-san.” Atsushi gives him a judging look, hands on his hips, but relents. A job is a job, after all, and Yosano-sensei asked him to attend to the patient in this room, so that’s what he’ll do.

“Is there anything you need, Dazai-san?”

“Coffee, please.”

“The usual?”

“If you could, thank you.”

Just as Atsushi is about to turn and head out the door, he notices something. He leans in, hand reaching up to gently turn Dazai’s jaw to the side. Dazai follows obediently, compliant under gentle fingers, tilting his head when Atsushi pokes his cheek. Atsushi’s eyebrows furrow even further.

Is that blood , dripping from his hairline?

“Dazai-san.” Atsushi straightens. Before he can pull away, Dazai grabs the hand that had been on his cheek with both of his, tugging him back in.

“Yes, Atsushi-kun? What is it?” His eyes sparkle. “Don’t tell me! You can’t bear to leave me alone like this! It hurts you just to see me lying here—”

“ Dazai-san. Do you have a head injury?”

Dazai lets go momentarily to scratch his head, then pulls his hand away to look at the blood that collected under his nails, and blinks.

Atsushi’s headache intensifies.

“Why, it seems I do! Atsushi-kun! How did you know?” He gasps. “Could it be, that we’re connected? Like soulma—”

Atsushi tugs his hand away and is out the door before Dazai can finish, calling out for a doctor.

After the initial panic over Dazai’s now-treated head wound (God knows how long he sported it without noticing ), Atsushi finally manages to find a moment to sit down. And of course, the moment he sits down, he’s called to go check on another patient.

He pauses outside of the door of room 111 and takes a deep breath.

“Hello! How are you tod—” Atsushi gulps.

The man in the bed is glaring balefully at him, as though he’d personally murdered his dog.

“Do you often ask your patients that?”

Atsushi quails under the icy scrutiny, and peeks at the charts in his hands.

Name: Akutagawa Ryuunosuke. With a slew of chronic respiratory problems, he’s just been released from OR after being treated for...a gunshot wound??

“I am in a hospital,” Akutagawa continues. “I was shot. My subordinates didn’t follow my orders. I am apparently being treated by an idiot. I am doing terribly today. Must you ask?”

Atsushi shrinks back.

“M-My apologies...Akutagawa-san.”

“Tch.”

Atsushi felt the disdain behind the force of that ‘tch’ down in his very bones.

“W-When did you sustain your injury?”

Atsushi barely holds back a squeak of fear when Akutagawa pins him with another glare.

“Early this morning, at around three am.”

Huh. That’s weird, that’s around the time Atsushi had woken up, gasping at the sharp eruption of pain in his side. He hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep for the rest of the night, unable to ignore it nor the worry for his soulmate.

...Could it be?

Atsushi gulps.

How...how does he confirm it, though?

“You...you wouldn’t also happen to have a headache, right now, would you?”

“I’m looking at one right now,” Akutagawa spits, staring him right in the eye. Atsushi winces.

Right. Hospital patient. Having a terrible day. A headache is a given under those circumstances, right? Besides, maybe the headache is caused by Atsushi, from acute sleep deprivation. If that’s true, he definitely doesn’t want Akutagawa to know that he’s the reason. If they are...soulmates.

But he can’t bring himself to leave it alone. If this man is his soulmate...he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t find out, and let him go.

“May...May I see your injury?”

Akutagawa is silent. Then with a sigh, he shifts and lifts the blanket, gesturing towards his lower left side.

Exactly the area near where Atsushi’s soulmate pain originates from. What are the chances of two people getting hurt in the exact same area at almost the exact same time?

Atsushi walks forward, and lifts his hand—only to realize, he’d have to lift Akutagawa’s hospital gown to look at it. Lift it...above the hips. When he may or may not be wearing anything underneath it.

His hands shake. Akutagawa continues to stare balefully at him.

Oh no, he thinks to himself. Oh no.

“I just—”

Atsushi steps away, and decides to just go for it.

“It’s just that I...I um. I’ve been having a sharp pain near that area as well...since early this morning. As well. Like you. I have it. Too. So. I thought. Ah…”

“You think you could be my soulmate.” Akutagawa deadpans.

Atsushi nearly bursts into flame right then and there.

“R-right, well, yes. Yes—that. That’s what I thought. Too.”

Akutagawa gives him a quick once-over, clear disgust taking over his features.

“Well?”

Atsushi gapes.

“Well, I mean, we could—we could be—!!”

“Soulmates, yes, we’ve established that. What do you want to do about it?”

“Well, I...When people first meet their soulmates, they…”

What do people do when they meet their soulmates?

“They...they go on a date?”

The silence that follows is deafening. Akutagawa looks like he’d rather murder small children than go on a date with Atsushi. Well, actually, he looks like murdering small children would be like a walk in the park for him. He looks like Atsushi had just asked him to cook him dinner and massage his feet, or do whatever else it is that normal, healthy people do instead of murdering small children.

Finally, Akutagawa sighs, and coughs into his hand.

“All right.”

“Wait, really?”

“Must I repeat myself? Yes, really.”

“Okay!” Atsushi flashes him a quick smile, immediately brightening. Finally, they were getting somewhere! “Where would you like to go?”

Akutagawa looks pointedly down at his body, where it lies on the hospital bed.

Oh. Right.

Gunshot wound. Hospital stay.

“We can...wait until you’re discharged?”

“No. Let’s get this over with.”

Well, that doesn’t leave them with many options.

“Oh...well. I can take my break soon. And I guess we could...go down...to the cafeteria? Grab some coffee?”

Akutagawa closes his eyes and sighs.

“Fine.”

“Great!”

Atsushi closes the door behind him, and heaves a sigh of relief.

“Ah, Atsushi-kun!” Dazai greets. Atsushi jumps, hand flying to his chest.

“Dazai-san! Don’t scare me like that.”

Dazai leans against the wall by room 111, fresh bandages wrapped around his head, covering his right eye.

“I just wanted to see you,” Dazai says.

“Well,” Atsushi gestures to himself, “now you’ve seen me.”

Dazai tilts his head until it rests on the wall.

“And you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Dazai responds with a grin. “Or eye, in this case.”

Atsushi sighs, and elects to ignore his comment.

“Have you been discharged? Or are you staying overnight for monitoring?”

Dazai gives him a wink. (It doesn’t work. Only one eye is visible.)

“I’ll be staying overnight in case of further complications. You have another shift tomorrow, right, Atsushi-kun?”

“Dazai-san...how did you know that.”

Dazai perks up at that.

“We’ll be seeing each other again, then!” He seems very happy with this conclusion.

Atsushi sighs.

“So? What are you doing here?”

“Ah, I was looking for the toilet!”

...Suspicious.

“I’d think you’ve been here enough times to know where the toilet is, Dazai-san. It’s in the opposite direction, down that hallway over there.”

Dazai crosses his arms in front of his chest, hunching over, as though feeling...self-conscious?

“Ah, you got me. I was actually looking for you because I wanted to ask you a question.”

Atsushi is caught a bit off guard. No “Ah, but your blinding brilliance must have made me stray off my course!” or “But how could I remember something as mundane as where the toilet is when my mind is filled with only the beautiful color of your eyes?” or some other ridiculous, Dazai-typical statement?

Atsushi eyes him warily.

“Oh. What is it?”

“Your break is soon, right?”

“...Yes? How did you—”

“Would you,” Dazai steps closer, so that there’s only a few inches of space between them, “like to come with me somewhere?”

Atsushi hesitates, feeling uncomfortable, and shrinks back.

“Dazai-san...don’t you think this joke has gone on long enough?”

A beat of silence.

“What joke, Atsushi-kun?”

Atsushi’s heart thuds.

What a good liar, he thinks. He almost seems sincere.

“W-Well, either way, I already have plans. Sorry.”

Dazai studies him for a moment before his eyes flick to the door behind him. An unreadable expression crosses his face.

He takes a step back. Something in Atsushi clenches as the space between them widens.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Dazai says agreeably. “Rain check?”

Atsushi bites his lip. Dazai’s eyes flicker down to watch.

Really, Atsushi thinks to himself, this man is too good-looking for his own good.

“...You should really get going, Dazai-san. It’s not good to linger in the halls, especially when there may still be complications with your head wound.”

Dazai almost looks disappointed.

“Well then. See you, Atsushi-kun!”

“Bye.”

Atsushi lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. With yet another sigh, he heads back to the nurse’s station.

“So…” Atsushi begins, as he pushes Akutagawa’s wheelchair down the corridor.

It’s time.

Atsushi’s on his break, and he’s pushing Akutagawa in a wheelchair. They’re on a ‘date’.

A date to the shitty hospital cafeteria, to get the same kind of shitty hospital coffee he could make at the machines by the nurses station, but a date nevertheless.

The elevator door dings behind them and slides closed.

Silence reigns supreme.

Atsushi gulps, and tries again.

“So...how’d you get shot?”

Akutagawa doesn’t even look at him in acknowledgement.

Atsushi winces. Sore topic, maybe?

Stupid! Of course he doesn’t want to talk about how he got shot, what kind of opening line is that?

Atsushi continues to sweat as the silence stretches onwards. What do people talk about on dates again? Oh yeah, that’s right, he’s never been on one , so he has no idea. Who does he know that might be good at this?

Immediately, Dazai’s face flashes in mind, and he flushes.

No. Nope. Don’t think about it, Atsushi.

Dazai’s method of flirting definitely won’t work if Atsushi tried it. In the first place, it only works because Dazai has the advantage of being ridiculously attractive.

Why couldn’t the elevator go faster? Why couldn’t it just drop them to their imminent deaths? Why must he suffer like this?

The elevator dings on the ground floor, and Atsushi takes a right towards the cafeteria.

They find an empty table to sit at.

They sit.

...and continue to sit.

Atsushi could die from the sheer awkwardness of this encounter. Never in his life has he been more uncomfortable. What’s more, Akutagawa looks like he couldn’t give a damn, content with continuing to attempt homicide through his eyes alone.

“WellthenI’llgogetsomecoffeehahaI’llbebackbye!”

He makes his escape as quickly as possible, spends as much time dawdling by the coffee machines as possible, and drags his feet the entire way back.

Is this some kind of joke? He asks the universe. This is the furthest thing from a perfect match I’ve ever seen.

He dreads going back, but eventually he catches sight of Akutagawa again, and sits down in his seat, passing the drink back over to him.

Akutagawa takes a sip.

“It’s cold.”

“Oh, well...yes.”

“And sweet.”

“...would you like me to grab you another?”

Please say yes.

Anything to escape this sheer discomfort.

Akutagawa doesn’t reply, and just continues to sip at his coffee with a frown.

“Why would you make a cold coffee?”

“Ah, that’s…”

Atsushi flushes in abject horror.

That would be...because of Dazai.

Without realizing it, he’d instinctively gotten Dazai’s usual order. Cold coffee, but with no ice. Extra milk, and double the sugar. Decaf.

For himself, he’d gotten a regular old medium roast straight from the machine.

Gosh, what had he been thinking? He should’ve asked Akutagawa what he wanted, but he’d been in such a hurry to leave… A part of him must’ve just, instinctively…

“...Sorry,” he finishes lamely.

Akutagawa just closes his eyes and crosses his arms, as though he’d already accepted that Atsushi is a total idiot, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

Atsushi squeezes his hands together, his nerves skyrocketing as the silence stretches.

Something to talk about...something...anything…

“Ah, what do you do for a living, Akutagawa-san?”

Akutagawa snaps his eyes open and stares at him with a startlingly intense look.

“Why do you want to know?”

Atsushi pales. Another sore topic?

“Ah,” he flounders, “I’m sure that whatever it is, it must be more exciting than my job, haha! Not that working at a hospital is boring, of course, and not that I don’t like my job, I love my job! Even though the hours on top of school is a lot and I’m always tired and I don’t sleep well because my soulm—” He gulps.

“—ah, but that’s not interesting! I’m sure you’d like to hear about something else, something interesting, uhm, like, uh…”

Akutagawa, if anything, looks increasingly unimpressed.

“...Did you know that we have a regular?”

Akutagawa’s face finally changes from complete boredom to something like resignation.

“A...regular?”

“It sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? Because it is! We have a regular!” Immediately, Atsushi gets fired up, seizing upon the easy topic of conversation.

“A regular patient who comes in every other day, whining about some minor injury or another, while completely neglecting to mention the important things!”

Akutagawa raises an eyebrow, and slurps his coffee.

“Furthermore, he keeps tormenting me, and I don’t know why! It’s like he specifically has it out for me and for whatever reason, I’m always assigned to his room! If I didn’t know better I’d think Yosano-sensei and he were in cahoots!” Atsushi slowly grows more and more heated, gesticulating with his hands as he rants on and on.

“You know, just this morning he came in for a fake injury and then neglected to mention he had a head wound ? Last week he came in for a ‘terrible chest pain’—which was also fake, by the way—while walking around on a twisted ankle! And he told no one! All he said was ‘Oh, Atsushi-kun, this pain must be from my broken heart, please, only you and your gentle radiance can possibly cure me!’ Everyone laughed at me! He’s infuriating ! And did I mention that he targets me especially? Because he does! He keeps making fun of me, and thinks I don’t know what he’s doing! I swear, the guy is an annoyance and a complete waste of all of our time. The next time Yosano-sensei asks me to attend to Dazai-san I’m going to say—”

Akutagawa stands abruptly, nearly knocking his coffee over, and then doubles over, clutching his side.

“Akutagawa-san?! Akutagawa-san, what are you doing?! You can’t be getting out of your wheelchair—it’s dangerous! Sit back down!”

Atsushi rushes over to press him back into the chair.

“ You. ”

Atsushi freezes at the pure vehemence in his voice.

“You...you just said… ‘Dazai-san’, didn’t you.”

“I...yes. Do you...know him?”

Oh god, does Akutagawa have some kind of grudge against Dazai? Atsushi wouldn’t put it past Dazai to have gained a number of mortal enemies, given how infuriating he can be.

“You...just said Dazai-san is an annoyance and a complete waste of time .”

A prickle of shame makes its way down Atsushi’s arms. His cheeks must be in flame right now, and he has the urge to look around and hide.

Akutagawa growls.

“You. You know— nothing . Nothing about Dazai-san—about— ”

He doubles over, coughing.

“Akutagawa-san! Please, calm down, this isn’t good for your hea—”

Akutagawa slaps Atsushi’s hand away.

“Dazai-san...Dazai-san is…”

He never finishes his sentence, but the look of desperation that comes into his eyes is answer enough. He pants, wincing and gripping his side.

“Dazai-san is a thousand times more than whatever you could hope to be in your entire lifetime. He is—Dazai-san is—You know nothing .” Akutagawa repeats.

...That’s true, isn’t it.

Atsushi...what does he really know about Dazai?

Nothing.

“You—you have what I would kill for. What I would die for. And you’re throwing it away? Treating it like trash? Calling it an annoyance and a complete waste of time ?”

That... had been rather harsh, hadn’t it? But—but after all the teasing he’s had to endure because of Dazai-san—after all the beatings his self-esteem has gone through, knowing that Dazai-san couldn’t possibly be serious—after everything—

“I—”

He has no words to say.

The cruel one isn’t Atsushi. It’s Dazai, for knowing what effect he has on people, and using it to make fun of weak people like Atsushi.

Right?

Akutagawa scoffs.

“We’re done here.”

Atsushi gapes.

“W-wait, but…”

“My soulmate would never speak such a way about Dazai-san. We’re done here. Take me back to my room.”

After the disastrous date, Atsushi is back at the nurse’s station, when Yosano-sensei calls upon him again.

"Atsushi," Yosano says. "Room 107."

Atsushi knows who's in that room. He gulps.

When he pushes open the door, Dazai is looking out the window, unusually quiet.

"Atsushi-kun," he says. Strangely enough, Dazai doesn’t look over at him. He seems...subdued.

"...Dazai-san." He nearly chokes on the name, the syllables like ash in his mouth, his guts roiling with nerves. He feels irrationally paranoid, like Dazai could take one look at him and know about all the bad things he’d said about him in a fit of nerves and frustration. The conversation with Akutagawa ricochets inside his head.

You know nothing.

Dazai-san is a thousand times more than whatever you could hope to become in your entire lifetime.

"Have you come to relieve me of this tiresome, banal world?” Dazai finally turns to look at him through his one eye. Atsushi, inexplicably, feels a shiver run down his back.

He hands him a cup of water, in lieu of a reply.

“No coffee this time?”

“Water is good for you.” Atsushi doesn’t really want to make more coffee right now.

Atsushi hesitates, hovering. Dazai isn’t acting like he normally does and Atsushi finds that he...misses it. He doesn’t know what to do with this strange, quiet Dazai. Without him to fill the silence, Atsushi feels as though something heavy were weighing him down. Like something’s missing. He fidgets a bit more, then bites his lip.

But does he have the right to ask, when he so clearly knows nothing about Dazai? When he’d bad-mouthed him less than an hour earlier? When he’s just a random nobody in Dazai’s life?

He’s just a nursing student at the hospital Dazai frequents. Just a bystander that Dazai sometimes gives attention to out of amusement. What right does he have to ask him what’s wrong?

And yet, despite all that, he finds himself opening his mouth to speak.

“Dazai-san...what do you do for a living?”

Dazai looks up in surprise.

“I work as a private detective,” he answers with a smile.

“A private detective, huh… Well that explains the number of injuries, I guess,” Atsushi says with a small laugh, scratching his cheek.

Dazai leans his cheek upon his hand and gazes at Atsushi through his bangs.

“What’s with this sudden interest in my life, Atsushi-kun? Wondering if I’m single? Want to know about my past lovers?”

Atsushi rolls his eyes and resists the urge to smack him with his clipboard.

“No just...wondering.”

“Wondering…what?” Dazai leans forward eagerly, eyes twinkling.

Atsushi knows he's flirting again. His first instinct is to recoil and blow him off, but Akutagawa's words float into his mind.

He thinks about everything that Dazai has said and done to him, about the weeks and weeks of taking care of him and putting up with his wild antics...and realizes something.

“Wondering...why you almost never have any visitors.”

The only visitor Atsushi has ever seen is an angry, blond, be-spectacled man who, judging from his yelling, is a coworker. But even he is a rare sighting. Most of the time Dazai comes and goes, with no one but Atsushi and the other nurses and doctors to notice his passing through.

Atsushi had always assumed it had just been because Dazai gets injured so often that people have stopped coming by to check on him but...even that is sad.

“Ah,” Dazai puts on a cheerful facade, but his tone is bland. “Well, I do have an adoptive father, but we’re not on speaking terms.”

...Is that all?

Even Atsushi, an orphan, has a few friends that would come see him if he were ever hospitalized.

And Dazai is constantly hospitalized.

“So...you never knew your real parents?”

“Yup! Though I never really wondered about them, anyway.”

Atsushi wishes he could say the same. He shuffles his feet, pushing back memories of crying behind the orphanage garden, beneath the covers, in the library, always wondering why he didn’t deserve parents like other children.

“Does that mean that...at one point, you and your father were close, then?”

“Oh, absolutely not. Mori-san was...well.” Dazai turns to look out the window again, and his hand comes up to brush at the bandages that cover his eye. “Mori-san had certain...expectations. It’s why we don’t speak anymore.”

That sounds so...cold. And lonely.

Both of which are feelings Atsushi is not unfamiliar with—and that’s why it’s so distressing to him.

“I...I never knew my parents either.”

Dazai hums, and cocks his head in interest. Atsushi looks away, unable to meet his eyes. With no small surprise, he finds himself speaking up again.

“I...was an orphan. Grew up at an orphanage. It was...well. The director there also had...expectations, of a sort.”

He expected Atsushi would fail at everything he ever did, and would wind up as the trash of society. A burden. Useless.

“Did you fulfill them?” Dazai’s eyes are strangely knowing. Usually that would make Atsushi feel uncomfortable, or wary. But somehow, he feels...calm. Maybe he just got used to Dazai’s presence after seeing him so often, and he's mistaken the familiarity as a sense of security and trust. Maybe hearing that they have something in common made Atsushi lower his guard.

Or maybe there’s just something about Dazai that makes Atsushi want to be known.

Atsushi clutches at his clipboard, fingers turning white.

“I...maybe. I don’t know.”

Dazai reaches up to press his fingers into his bandages again.

“I fulfilled Mori-san’s expectations rather easily. Too easily, I think. But in the end, I decided not to be the person he wanted me to be. Even if, maybe, that was who I was born to be.”

Atsushi finds that he would do anything to erase the carefully controlled, fragile expression on Dazai’s face.

He finds that he wants to know. Know more, about Dazai. About everything.

“Why didn’t you want to be that person?”

Their lives may have begun similarly, and yet...they are so different. Atsushi would’ve done anything, at that time, to earn the director’s approval. Now, he wonders why.

Dazai smiles, nails digging into the bandages on his head.

“A friend told me I could be better.”

Atsushi wonders what happened to that friend, for Dazai to make such a pained expression, and for Dazai’s bedside chair to always remain empty. He knows, instinctively, not to ask.

“Are those bothering you?” Atsushi asks, indicating the bandages.

“Ah, no,” Dazai pulls his hand away, “It’s fine.”

Atsushi frowns.

“I can redo them for you, if you’d like.”

Dazai pauses, an unreadable look crossing his face.

“...If you could, then.”

It’s strangely intimate. The way the bandages unravel and collect in a bundle on the blankets. The way Atsushi brushes aside his hair, or brushes past his ear, his skin. The slow reveal of Dazai’s features. The moment when the bandages come off and Dazai gazes, with both eyes, straight at Atsushi, who is nearly cradling his face.

Atsushi grabs new bandages and re-wraps his head, this time leaving his eye clear.

“Not too tight?”

Dazai shakes his head lightly.

“Perfect.”

Atsushi gives himself a mental pat on the back.

“I’m not sure why they decided to cover your eye, anyway. Maybe they thought putting more bandages on would keep you from hurting yourself again.” Atsushi jokes.

“...Thank you. Really.”

Dazai is already looking more like his normal self, color returning to his face, his cheeks lifting lightly and eyes squinting at the corners. It's as though the bandages had, before, turned him into a lost child.

“It’s no big deal, really.” Atsushi assures him. “Were they bothering you that much?”

Dazai’s expression slips a little.

“Yes, they were.”

The sun is beginning to set outside the window now, light filtering through the sheer curtains.

“They reminded me of...a younger me.”

Atsushi doesn’t quite understand, but he thinks he can fill in between the lines.

“You’re...I’m sure you’re not the person your father made you into, Dazai-san.”

Dazai looks up at him.

“And how would you know that, Atsushi-kun?”

Atsushi finds that his voice comes out stronger and clearer than he ever knew it could be.

“I think, if you were who your father thought you were, your friend wouldn’t have advised you differently. He was an important friend, right? He must’ve known you better than your father, who didn’t see who you were, but only who he wanted you to be. I won’t lie, you’re a rather annoying person, Dazai-san, but I think...you aren’t a bad one. So I think, you don’t need to be afraid of becoming whatever it is you are afraid of becoming. Because Dazai-san is a good person, so no matter whatever else you are, that’s what’s most important.”

Dazai stares at him, mouth slightly parted.

After another pause, Atsushi’s brain finally catches up with his mouth, and he pinks.

“I’m so sorry! I stepped out of line, that was rude of me. I’ll. I’ll just be going now… S-See you tomorrow, Dazai-san…”

He rushes out the door, and slams it closed behind him, leaning against it with one hand on his beating chest and the other pressed against his hot cheeks.

I can’t believe I just did that! Bad Atsushi! Bad Atsushi!

Dazai watches him go, silhouette framed by the dying light of the sun. He looks down at his hands, which are curled around the old bandages.

“Oh, Atsushi-kun,” he murmurs, “you’re really too much for me.”

Atsushi groans as he finally lies down in his bed, feeling the way his spine stretches out.

It’d definitely been a long, long day. He congratulates himself for getting through it alive and arguably in one piece.

Some of it definitely could have gone better, Atsushi thinks, as he stares up at the ceiling, chewing his lip.

There’s no two ways about it. The date with Akutagawa had been terrible. They barely talked, and if possible, left on worse terms than they’d started.

And they’d started on awful terms.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Akutagawa’s injury was just a coincidence.

Secretly, he hoped so. Akutagawa seemed like an unpleasant person and not at all like someone Atsushi would want to spend the rest of his life with. Either the universe had made some kind of mistake, or Atsushi did, and the latter is much more likely.

What was he going to do if he does turn out to be his soulmate though? How does he mend that bridge when he’d so obviously offended Akutagawa?

My soulmate would never speak such a way about Dazai-san.

And anyway, what was it about Dazai that had Akutagawa so angry and...obsessed?

Atsushi thinks about the delicate features of Dazai’s face. The slender yet sharp jaw, aristocratic nose, glimmering, deep brown eyes. His porcelain skin, the wicked curve to his lips, the soft angle of his cheekbones. His deft, clever hands. The way he glides when he walks. His soft, messy hair, which glows russet in the right lighting. The fact that he always smells good.

Okay, so maybe there was a lot to Dazai that could be obsessed over. But that’s all just physical stuff! Not important!

And then he thinks about Dazai bursting in on the scene with some ridiculous excuse in the middle of a boring work day. Dazai showering him with extravagant compliments and (albeit unwanted) attention. Dazai smiling at him even after Atsushi brushes him off.

Dazai’s fragile expression when he talked about his adoptive father. His solemnity when he talked about a dear friend who’d passed away. The way he always listened to everything Atsushi had to say, even if he tends to choose to ignore the complaints, the way he hadn’t pitied Atsushi the moment Atsushi had told him his story.

Atsushi thinks that now he may understand, just a little, the desperate look that had been in Akutagawa’s eyes.

Even without comparing him to Atsushi, there were possibly a few, or possibly a lot, of things about Dazai to be desperate over.

Wouldn’t be nice, he thinks to himself, if Dazai were my soulmate, instead of Akutagawa?

When he realizes where his train of thought had lead, he immediately groans and buries his face in his hands.

Why? Why, brain? Why would you take that train of thought in that direction? Why would you even think—

Atsushi freezes.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Oh god, do I like him? No, no, no, no… You promised yourself not to let that happen! It’s not possible! No!

...Okay.

So maybe he’s grown a bit fond of Dazai’s antics, and maybe he worries about how good Dazai is at hiding his real injuries.

Maybe he isn’t as immune to Dazai’s charms as he acts.

But, it’s impossible. There’s no way. None of that has to mean he has a crush on Dazai. It doesn’t! Him with Dazai-san? Dazai-san with him ? That would never work. It’s best to shut it down before he can begin to hope, and save himself the heartbreak.

He curls up on his side, mind whirling.

He needs to sleep. He has morning classes, three exams coming up, and he agreed to cover someone else’s shifts at the hospital, to boot.

Atsushi’s exhausted. He wasn’t built for this kind of stress and drama.

His side suddenly erupts in pain, and Atsushi gasps.

“Just what are you getting yourself into?” He asks the empty air, knowing he’ll get no response.

At this rate, his soulmate is going to die before they ever get to meet.

Assuming that it isn’t Akutagawa, at least.

“You need to take better care of yourself,” he whispers. His side continues to radiate pain, as if in direct response to his words.

Atsushi sighs, and prepares for another sleepless night.

Atsushi didn't get another wink of sleep that night.

“Here’s the juice you asked for,” he says quietly, handing it over to Akutagawa.

That’s right.

Akutagawa is staying at the hospital for the time being, and due to where he’s located in the hospital, Atsushi is still tending to him.

Talk about awkward.

Atsushi sighs, feeling heavy from exhaustion. He can't even muster the energy to feel alarmed by the stink eye Akutagawa gives him.

“Did you...sleep okay, last night?”

He thinks about the sharp pain that he’d experienced, that had kept him awake even when he'd been in tears, praying for sleep.

Akutagawa takes the juice without a word, and haughtily turns his face away, with his eyes closed, as though being forced to even look at Atsushi was a personal affront to his very being.

“I slept fine. They administered painkillers, so I felt nothing.”

“Ah, that’s good…”

Silence.

“...Let me or one of the other nurses know if you need anything else…”

He runs out as quickly as he can.

As he goes, Akutagawa’s words catch up to him.

Wait...he didn’t feel any pain last night? Then does that mean…

Was it really a mistake after all?

“Sooo, Atsushi,” Naomi kicks the ground and rolls her swivel chair over so she can lean closer to Atsushi’s ear. “How’d the date yesterday go?”

Atsushi winces. “It went...okay, I guess.”

“Hmm, really?”

Atsushi groans and covers his face.

“Who am I kidding, it went terribly .”

“Aw, what? I thought you said he could be your soulmate!”

Atsushi mentally scolds himself for telling her that.

“That’s...I’m not so sure anymore. I kind of...hope he isn’t. I can’t imagine living my life with someone like that… He acts like he can’t even stand to look at me.”

“Didn’t you just go in to check on him?”

“Yes, and it was extremely awkward!”

Naomi laughs.

“Oh, come on, it can’t have been that bad.”

Atsushi blows a piece of hair out of his face. “It was. You have no idea.”

He pauses for a moment, then looks at Naomi consideringly.

“Naomi-san…”

“No,” Naomi says, without pause.

“Naomi-san...please? Please, can you take over for just his room? Just until he’s discharged? Every time he speaks I get scared for my life, Naomi-san. I’m serious!”

Atsushi whines as Naomi laughs at him.

“Naomi-san, this is serious! If I have to tend to him any longer I think I’ll die! He hates me! So much! You have no idea .”

“All right, all right. But you have to tell me more about the details of your date later, okay, Atsushi?”

Atsushi groans.

He does not want to relive that experience. But if it means he can avoid Akutagawa for the rest of his stay...

“Fine. Deal.”

Naomi glances over at him slyly, and leans against the desk.

“I kinda feel bad for the dude though. He never really had a chance, given that you’re...biased. Don’t you think?”

Atsushi cocks his head to the side.

“Biased about what, Naomi-san?”

“Well… You know.”

Atsushi blinks at her. “What do I know?”

Naomi stares at him. “Seriously? Isn’t it obvious?”

“Isn’t what obvious?”

Naomi groans. “Oh my god you’re hopeless.”

“Fine then. Don’t tell me.” Atsushi pouts.

Naomi heaves a sigh and holds back a groan. “Dazai, silly.”

Atsushi frowns. Why is everyone constantly bringing him up?

“Dazai-san? What about him?”

Naomi rolls her eyes. “I’ll admit, you’re good at pretending, but you can’t hide from me. I know you like him, Atsushi.”

Atsushi gapes at her, then flushes up to his ears.

“I—I do not!”

A distant figure rounds a corner, and begins to walk down the hallway adjacent to them.

Naomi giggles at him.

“Oh, look at you, you’re so cute. Stay in denial if you want, then. It’s funny.”

“I’m not in denial!”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so!”

Their voices echo.

“All right then, Atsushi.” She winks at him.

Atsushi’s still blushing, looking anywhere but Naomi.

“W-Who would like someone like Dazai-san, anyway? He’s over-the-top and a flirt! He’s constantly harassing me, doesn’t take no for an answer, and in general is just—a nuisance! I don’t like him. I don’t!”

Something uncomfortable grows in his stomach as the words come out of his mouth. He thinks about bandages falling away, two eyes pinning him with an earnest gaze, a fragile smile.

He doesn’t notice Dazai standing, frozen, just around the corner of the hallway.

“You talk about him a lot for someone who doesn’t like him, though.”

“That’s—! That’s because he’s—he’s insufferable! I really just wish he’d leave me alone.”

Dazai clenches his hand into a fist, staring at his shoes.

Naomi looks at Atsushi with pity.

“Is that how you really feel?”

Atsushi looks away, fiddling with his fingers. He tries to imagine coming to work and never seeing Dazai again. Never dealing with his shenanigans, never hearing his voice, never again being able to know how he’s doing and whether or not he’s recovering from his latest injury.

No, he thinks to himself. No, it isn’t.

“...Yes.” he says, instead.

Naomi gives a skeptical hum, but pushes herself away from the desk and returns to her own work.

“Okay, okay. I’ll drop it. For now.”

Atsushi slumps into his chair. “Thank you.”

Unbeknownst to them, Dazai turns and walks away. His expression is blank, wiped clean.

“Okay then, Atsushi-kun,” he whispers to himself. “If that’s what you want.”

Atsushi is on the computer, trying to ignore the continuing pain in his side and looking up a patient’s room number so he can redirect a small family of three, when he hears it.

Dazai’s voice, laughing merrily from somewhere down the hallway.

“That’ll be on the third floor, room 317,” he says with a smile, accepting their thanks with grace.

After they leave, he waits.

And waits.

Strangely enough, Dazai doesn’t head towards the nurse’s station looking for him. No one calls him over specifically to tend to him. Occasionally, he thinks he catches the sound of Dazai’s voice as he rounds a corner, but he isn’t bothered or harassed like he usually is. Not even once.

As the hour goes on, Atsushi gets more and more uncomfortable.

Why is he making a big deal out of this? This is what he wanted right? For Dazai to leave him alone, so he can finally get over his stupid crush? To stop having his feelings played with?

He opens the cabinet where they store extra blankets, and frowns.

He’s tired. It’s nearing the fourth day he’s gotten little to no sleep. He’s ready to pass out, but he can’t. He has things to do, and whatever injury it is that his soulmate has, has apparently not been healed yet, because he can still feel it. A dull, throbbing, constant pain.

At this point, he’s relatively certain it isn’t Akutagawa. Naomi administered more painkillers at his behest, and yet the pain in Atsushi’s side has yet to abide.

Meaning that entire ordeal was completely pointless, unless the goal was to shoot Atsushi’s anxiety even higher than it already is.

He tugs at one of the blankets, standing on his tiptoes to reach. The door next to the cabinets opens. Atsushi turns to look, and freezes.

It’s Dazai, and another nurse, Sasaki-san.

Sasaki giggles, hand daintily going up to her mouth, and Dazai leans closer to whisper in her ear. His right arm is in a cast.

She’s really pretty, Atsushi thinks. They look good together.

“I’m free Friday after five,” Dazai says with a quirk of his lips.

“Oh, that’s perfect,” Sasaki says, “I get off my shift right around then.”

Dazai turns, and meets Atsushi’s wide-eyed gaze.

Atsushi feels sick.

“Oh, Atsushi-kun,” Sasaki says, before pausing. “Atsushi-kun, is everything all right?”

To his horror, he realizes he’s about to cry.

“Oh, I—I, yes—”

He stumbles back, but in his hurry, he tugs at the blankets too harshly and brings them tumbling down on his head.

He stands there, blankets draped over him and strewn across the floor, and thinks to himself, Could you be any more pathetic?

“I—sorry, I just, was grabbing some blankets…” He kneels down, carefully hiding his face, and begins picking them up and re-folding them.

He’s hastily wiping at his eyes when he realizes someone has knelt down to help him.

“No, it’s okay, I can—” Atsushi looks up.

“D-Dazai-san,” he squeaks in surprise. What is he doing?

“Dazai-san, stop. You have a broken arm.”

Dazai gives him a wink.

“Oh this? This is nothing. At least, it’s nothing compared to the pain of seeing a beautiful creature such as yourself in distress.”

Atsushi can’t help but sniffle, face screwing up.

Typical Dazai. Being kind, yet cruel, all at once.

He takes a deep breath and mentally steels himself.

“Dazai-san, really, I’m fine. And you can’t do much with one arm in a cast like that, anyway.”

He reaches out, meaning to help Dazai stand up, hand braced under Dazai’s elbow.

“Atsushi-kun, wait—”

Atsushi lands with a thwump back on his butt.

He stares down at the cast in his hand, then looks at the empty space where the rest of Dazai’s arm is supposed to be.

And screams.

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry!”

“I can’t believe you! You faked another injury?! To do what? To flirt with the nurses? What is wrong with you?!”

“Well I didn’t think you’d grab someone by their broken arm…”

“So this is my fault? Is that what you’re saying? Get out.”

“Wait, but—”

“You don’t actually have any pressing injuries, right? That means you can’t be here. Get out.”

“Wait, Atsushi-kun, I said I’m sorry—”

Atsushi is livid.

After tugging off Dazai’s fake cast and nearly having a heart attack, thinking he’d pulled someone’s arm off, Dazai revealed the rest of his arm, which he’d tucked up in his sleeve, and admitted that it was “just a prank”.

He’s had—

“Enough. I’ve had enough. If you don’t get out, now, I’m calling security.”

“I can explain—”

Atsushi turns and begins to stomp down the hallway.

“Wait, Atsushi—”

A hand grabs him by the elbow and he whirls, ready to yell again, when he stumbles off-balance and bangs his other elbow on the wall.

“Ow!”

“Ow.”

Atsushi opens his mouth, then pauses.

That second “ow”? That hadn’t come from Atsushi.

Dazai and he stare at each other. Slowly, the pieces click together.

But—how can he be sure? What if—what if this is another prank?

...There’s only one way to find out.

Atsushi lifts a trembling hand—

“Atsushi-ku—”

—and does what he’s been aching to do for weeks now.

He slaps Dazai Osamu right across his pretty face.

Dazai stares at him, open-mouthed, hand reaching up to rub at his cheek.

Atsushi blinks right back at him in disbelief and lifts his own hand up to his own face, feeling where the echo of the force of his own slap radiates from.

He felt that.

He’d slapped Dazai, and in that very same moment, felt that very same pain on his own face.

“Oh my god.”

This can’t be real.

He lifts his hand again, and Dazai backs up.

He needs to check. Just one more time. To make sure.

“W-Wait, Atsushi-kun, I really don’t think that’s necessary—”

“It is.”

“There must be some other way—”

Atsushi pauses for a moment, thinking.

If they’re soulmates, and they share each other’s pain, then that means…

He narrows his eyes.

“Dazai-san.”

Dazai gulps.

“Oh, would you look at the time!” Dazai flashes him a fake smile and looks at his bare, watch-less wrist. “Wouldn’t want you to call security on me! I’ll just be going then, haha—”

“ Dazai-san. ” Atsushi’s suspicions have been all but confirmed. “Take off your clothes. Now.”

“I don’t really think that’s appropriate, Atsushi-kun—”

Atsushi stomps forward, and Dazai continues to back up, holding his hands up in a placating manner.

“Now, now, Atsushi-kun, we can talk about this—”

“Take off your clothes! Now!”

Dazai breaks into a flat out run, with Atsushi chasing after him.

“Get back here!”

True to his expectations, as Dazai runs, the pain in Atsushi’s side flares.

They skid to a stop at the end of the next hallway, panting, both of them clutching their sides.

Atsushi pushes Dazai up against the wall, tugging at his shirt.

“Atsushi-kun I think we’re moving a little too fast don’t you think—”

Atsushi pauses, and glares at Dazai’s bare stomach.

“Dazai-san. What is that.”

Dazai gulps.

“...Nothing.”

“I’ve been feeling it for two days, it isn’t nothing .”

“...may have run into a knife.” Dazai mumbles.

“You got STABBED?!” Atsushi screeches.

“If anything, it’s the knife’s fault.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that it’s completely your fault for making someone want to stab you. What I want to know is why you felt the need to fake a broken arm to get in here when you’ve already been stabbed. ”

“It’s not even that bad—”

Atsushi screeches again, and grabs Dazai by his arm, dragging him back the way they came.

“That’s it, I’m bringing you to Yosano-sensei.”

Dazai suddenly stops, clinging onto Atsushi’s arm and dragging his feet.

“But I can only be healed by the gentle touch of your love!”

“Oh, stop that. Don’t be ungrateful. Though her methods of practice are...unique... Yosano-sensei has a very high success rate!”

“But I’d really much rather stay by your side—”

“You’re not getting out of this one, Dazai-san.”

Dazai grows more desperate, recalling all the rumors he’d heard about Yosano’s “treatment” and his past luck in dodging it.

“But you’ll have to suffer with me!”

“Gladly.”

They jerk to a stop.

Atsushi huffs in annoyance, ready to ask “What is it now”, when Dazai interrupts him.

“Even if I’m a compulsive liar with trust issues who sometimes can’t bring himself to get out of bed in the morning?”

Atsushi is taken aback.

“W-what?”

“Would you gladly suffer with me even though I’m annoying and I don’t know how much is too much and I embarrass you in front of everybody?”

Atsushi gapes at him, mouth opening and closing silently.

“I—”

He looks away, and tightens his grip on Dazai’s arm.

“...Yes. Even then. You’re my... soulmate, after all. But…”

Dazai watches him, studying his features in the fluorescent lighting.

“But?”

“...But even if you weren’t. I wouldn’t... couldn’t just leave you to suffer alone.”

The beginnings of a delighted grin begin to creep up onto Dazai’s face.

“You like me. You actually like me.”

“Don’t push it.”

The grin continues to grow as Atsushi begins to squirm uncomfortably.

“...Okay fine! Maybe I do like you. A little. But we really need to get that stab wound looked at so let’s just...get going, already.”

He blushes.

“Okay,” Dazai sing-songs.

Atsushi sighs, feeling the waves of exhaustion crashing over him.

“What am I going to do with you?”

“Well,” Dazai says, walking next to him amiably now, “I’m free Friday after five.”

Something warm pools in Atsushi’s gut, and a small smile sneaks its way onto his face.

“That works just fine for me.”

#dazaishipweek19 #dazatsu #bsd #dazai osamu #nakajima atsushi #akutagawa ryuunosuke #fanfic #fic #ficlet #drabble #clod not lefting but #and thats a wrap!#thats it folks for this week #im sad :(#sighs #o well #hopefully the next time i write smth will be sooooooon

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dweemeister · 5 years ago

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2019 Movie Odyssey Award for Best Original Song (preliminary round)

Many of my longtime followers will know what is below. And yes, it’s that time of year again!

There are a few folks I wanted to extend invites to that I wasn’t able to get to in time (because of stuff IRL). If you are listed (and are interested), let me know so I can sort you into a group as soon as possible: @dansmonarbre, @dog-of-ulthar, @fredsbarandgrill, @loveless422, @shadesofhappy, @somequeerdistortion, @thethirdman8. Otherwise, you will still be tagged for the MOABOS final anyways because of your prior participation in previous years.

As is the year-end tradition on my blog, there is an Oscar-like ceremony honoring some of the best achievements from movies that I saw for the first time in their entirety this calendar year (the "Movie Odyssey"). I’ve always considered MOABOS a musical thank-you for your moral support on and offline throughout the year.

An unspecified number of songs have already advanced to the final round. Twenty songs will compete in this preliminary round. Like every year there has been a preliminary, there are two groups - Group A and Group B. Even moreso than last year, songs from musicals dominate and, after a year where personal time has come at a premium, it has also resulted in the most monolingual field we’ve had in a preliminary.

INSTRUCTIONS IN THE GROUP YOU HAVE BEEN SORTED INTO, please rank (#1-10) at least five of your group's songs. Please consider (to the best of your ability): how musically interesting the song is (incl. and not limited to musical phrasing and orchestration); its lyrics; quality of performance; context within the film (contextual blurbs provided for those who haven’t seen these films); choreography/dance direction (if applicable); and the song's cultural impact/life outside the film (if applicable, and the least important factor). Imperfections in audio and video quality may not be used against any song. The top four songs in each group automatically advance to the final round. I reserve the right to pick 0-2 songs from one or both groups that finished outside the top four in their respective groups to contest the final round. This was never a true democracy, as you all know!

The deadline for submission is Tuesday, December 10 at 11 PM Pacific Time. That's Friday, December 11 at 1 AM Central Time / 2 AM Eastern Time / 7 AM GMT / 8 AM CET / 9 AM EET. This deadline may be pushed back if there are a large number of people who have not submitted in time - but I would rather not have that happen, especially because more people are going to be called in for the final round. Feel free to send in comments and reactions with your rankings - it’s always fun to read reactions to individual songs, and it usually makes the process (for everyone) more enjoyable! Tabulation details are under the read-more.

Take your time, and and listen more than once if you wish. Please pay attention to which group you have been sorted into. The songs are (“Song title”, composer and lyricist, film title):

GROUP A

“Can You Imagine That?”, music by Marc Shaiman, lyrics by Scott Wittman and Marc Shaiman, Mary Poppins Returns (2018)

Performed by Emily Blunt, Pixie Davies, Joel Dawson, and Nathanael Saleh

Shortly after Mary Poppins (Blunt) becomes the governess for the Banks children (Davies, Dawson, and Saleh), she draws a bath after the children have covered themselves in dirt. The bath, however, is infused with Mary Poppins’ signature magic, leading to a fantastical segment.

“Detroit”, music and lyrics by Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman, The Happiest Millionaire (1967)

Performed by John Davidson and Lesley Ann Warren

(partial use in film)

Lovebirds Cordy Biddle (Warren) and Angier “Angie” Buchanan Duke (Davidson in his film debut) have been discussing their future together. Angie does not want to inherit his father’s tobacco business - instead wishing to head to Detroit to be a part of the automotive industry (the film is set in 1916, as the city was booming because of the auto industry).

“Gay Paree”, music by Henry Mancini, lyrics by Leslie Bricusse, Victor/Victoria (1982)

Performed by Robert Preston

In this musical, Carroll “Toddy” Todd (Preston) is a gay performer at the Chez Lui nightclub in Paris. This songs appears shortly after the opening credits and a short introductory scene. The use of the word “gay” in this song may be interpreted however you wish.

“Honolulu Baby”, music and lyrics by Marvin Hatley, Sons of the Desert (1933)

(Initial performance) / (brief reprise) / (non-film version)

First performance by Ty Parvis; reprise by Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy; full non-film version by The Beau Hunks

Laurel and Hardy have tricked their wives into believing they have taken a Hawaiian cruise rather than attending the national meeting of a fraternity known as the Sons of the Desert - their wives disapprove of the latter for reasons that give away too many jokes in one of the best (and funniest) films I saw all year. The reprise is part of a joke that I’d also rather not spoil.

“I Dug a Ditch”, music by Burton Lane, lyrics by Lew Brown and Ralph Freed, Thousands Cheer (1943)

Performed by the Kay Kyser Band, Kathryn Grayson, Georgia Carroll, Harry Babbitt, Sully Mason, M.A. Bogue, and chorus

NOTE: An entirely separate song, “Should I”, is integrated from 3:04-3:36.

Apologies for the text overlaying the video. The second half of Thousands Cheer is essentially an elaborate revue musical performance for American World War II troops in which the film’s initial pretense of attempting a story is entirely dropped. “I Dug a Ditch” is one of the songs appearing in the film’s second half.

“(I’m Gonna) Love Me Again”, music by Elton John, lyrics by Bernie Taupin, Rocketman (2019)

Performed by Elton John and Taron Egerton

This is the first song played over the end credits of this biopic of Elton John. This is John and Taupin’s (John’s songwriting partner through the 1960s-1990s) first collaboration outside the Sherlock Gnomes series for this decade.

“Into the Unknown”, music and lyrics by Robert Lopez and Kristen Anderson-Lopez, Frozen II (2019)

(end credits version)

Performed by Idina Menzel and AURORA; end credits version performed by Panic! At the Disco

Some years after being crowned Queen of Arendelle (which happened at the end of Frozen), Elsa hears an eerie voice calling out to her - a voice that will connect Elsa to her parents’ tragic fate. The voice’s melody will reprise throughout the film’s score.

“The Shady Dame from Seville”, music by Henry Mancini, lyrics by Leslie Bricusse, Victor/Victoria (1982)

(Initial performance) / (reprise to be watched at your own spoiler-y risk)*

Performed by Julie Andrews; reprise by Robert Preston

*watch at your own spoiler-y risk because it gives away the film’s comical musical ending

Victoria Grant (Andrews), after making her Parisian debut playing a man named “Victor” who is impersonating a woman, has become the hit vaudeville act of Paris. This is one of her signature performances. Preston’s reprise - which appears near the film’s conclusion - was done in one take, hence his sweaty and fatigued appearance at the end.

“Trường Tương Tư”, music and lyrics by Leon Le, Song Lang (2018, Vietnam)

Performed by Isaac and Liên Bỉnh Phát

Lyrics in Vietnamese

English translation and context are in the link.

“(Underneath the) Lovely London Sky”, music by Marc Shaiman, lyrics by Scott Wittman and Marc Shaiman, Mary Poppins Returns

Performed by Lin-Manuel Miranda

This is the opening song in Mary Poppins Returns. Lamplighter Jack (Miranda) is turning out the London gaslights as night turns into morning, as he bikes through the city’s streets - filled with indicators of the Great Depression, industrial pollution, and the general overcast weather that tends to be associated with England. Jack reprises the songs a few times across the film and the song is quoted in the film’s score.

Group A participants include: @addaellis, @cokwong, @halfwaythruthedark, @myluckyerror, @phendranaedge, @plus-low-overthrow, @theybecomestories, @umgeschrieben, @yellanimal. Between six to ten others will be participating in this group, including myself and my sister.

GROUP B

“Crazy World”, music by Henry Mancini, lyrics by Leslie Bricusse, Victor/Victoria (1982)

Performed by Julie Andrews

Victoria Grant (Andrews) is a woman playing a man named “Victor” who is impersonating a woman. Victoria, as Victor, has become the hit vaudeville act of Paris. This is Victoria’s first performance as “Victor” not pretending to be a woman. Is your head spinning yet?

“East Bound and Down”, music and lyrics by Jerry Reed and Dick Feller, Smokey and the Bandit (1977)

Performed by Jerry Reed

This is the theme song for this comedy, which also describes the plot somewhat. Smokey and the Bandit is about two truckers - “Bandit” (Burt Reynolds) and “Snowman” (Reed) - who have been offered $80,000 by a rich Texan to pick up 400 cases of Coors beer from Texarkana, Texas and return to Atlanta within twenty-eight hours. In 1977, Coors was only found in the Western U.S. and transporting it across Southern state lines was illegal (giving Coors a mystique in the Eastern U.S.).

“Fortuosity”, music and lyrics by Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman, The Happiest Millionaire (1967)

Performed by Tommy Steele

Irish immigrant John Lawless (Steele) is one day off his Transatlantic ferry and is soon to take up a job as the Biddle family’s butler. This is the first song in The Happiest Millionaire, performed shortly after the opening credits. The song is also on the musical rotation for Disney parks’ Main Street and is reprised during the film and quoted in its score.

“Fun and Fancy Free (I’m a Happy-Go-Lucky Fellow)”, music and lyrics by Bennie Benjamin, George David Weiss, Ned Washington, and Eliot Daniel Fun and Fancy Free (1947)

Performed by Dinah Shore, chorus, and Cliff Edwards (as Jiminy Cricket)

Played over the opening credits; the main musical ideas are used a few times in the film’s score. This is Jiminy Cricket’s second appearance in a canonical Disney Animation Studios feature film.

“The Joint Is Really Jumpin’ in Carnegie Hall”, music and lyrics by Roger Edens, Ralph Blane, and Hugh Martin, Thousands Cheer (1943)

Performed by Judy Garland and Jose Iturbi

The second half of Thousands Cheer - where this song is found - is essentially an elaborate revue musical performance for American World War II troops in which the film’s initial pretense of attempting a story is entirely dropped.

“The Next Right Thing”, music and lyrics by Robert Lopez and Kristen Anderson-Lopez, Frozen II (2019)

Performed by Kristen Bell

Anna (Bell) has seemingly lost her friends and her sister at what is the lowest point in the film. Uncertain what to do, she recalls a small piece of advice that leads her forward.

“Nowhere to Go but Up”, music by Marc Shaiman, lyrics by Scott Wittman and Marc Shaiman, Mary Poppins Returns (2018)

Performed by Angela Lansbury, Ben Whishaw, Pixie Davies, Joel Dawson, Nathanael Saleh, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Emily Mortimer, Julie Walters, Jeremy Swift, Kobna Holdbrook-Smith, David Warner, Jim Norton, and company

On a sunny spring day, the Banks family and Mary Poppins go out to the local park to make a day of it. Certain non-lyrical inclusions in this song cannot be explained without spoiling the film. This is the final song of Mary Poppins Returns.

“Sương Chiều”, music and lyrics by Leon Le and Hoàng Song Việt, Song Lang (2018, Vietnam)

Performed by Isaac and Tú Quyên

Lyrics in Vietnamese

English translation and context are in the link.

“Trip a Little Light Fantastic”, music by Marc Shaiman, lyrics by Scott Wittman and Marc Shaiman, Mary Poppins Returns

Performed by Lin-Manuel Miranda, Emily Blunt, Tarik Frimpong, Pixie Davies, Joel Dawson, Nathanael Saleh, and company

After being scolded by their father, the Banks children are taken home by Mary Poppins (Blunt). Along the way, they encounter their friend, lamplighter Jack (Miranda), as they take a lengthy detour. The cycling skills seen in this number are probably anachronistic.

“Woodstock”, music and lyrics by Joni Mitchell, Woodstock (1970)

Performed by Crosby Stills, Nash & Young

This song appears in the end credits to Woodstock - the official documentary film for the eponymous August 1969 musical festival.

Group B participants include: @emilylime5, @ideallaedi, @introspectivemeltdown, @maximiliani, @mindo80, @themusicmoviesportsguy, @nazur, @stephdgray, and @underblackwings. Between six to ten others will be participating in this group, including myself and my sister.

If you have any questions or comments regarding the process or the songs involved, you may contact me at any time in any way you prefer. If you are having difficulty accessing the videos (especially if it is region-locked), please let me know as soon as you can.

Thank you all for being amazing followers and friends, and I thank you for your participation and support for the Movie Odyssey, this blog, and for me personally - no matter how long I’ve known you or in what capacity. I didn’t do as much outreach this year due to personal reasons, but I hope we have a healthy amount of participation. You will all be tagged for the final round regardless of your participation here. If turnout in one group is lagging behind compared to another, I may ask some of the more senior participants to participate in the other group, too. There is no pressure if you can’t do this, everyone. Thank you all again, and happy listening!

TABULATION

This preliminary round uses a points-based, ranked choice method which has been used since the first time I asked friends, tumblr followers, and family to help out. A respondent’s first choice receives 10 points, the second choice receives 9, the third choice receives 8, etc. The winner is the song that ends up with the most total points. This method, for the first time ever, will not be used for the final round. Tiebreakers for above: 1) total points earned; 2) total #1 votes; 3) placement on my ballot; 4) placement on my sister’s ballot; 5) tie declared

#2019 Movie Odyssey Awards

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