#i think he ultimately had a good heart but my man folded under the slightest bit of social pressure like a wet mcmuffin | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ppersonna · 5 years ago

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tempestuous - kth | m

tem·pes·tu·ous - adjective - characterized by strong and turbulent or conflicting emotion

↳ summary- There’s no one who riles you up more than Kim Taehyung, your best friend’s brother. He knows exactly how to make you fly off the handle.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 6.8k

↳ pairing- taehyung x reader

↳ genre- smut, minor angst i guess in the form of fighting, this is one big pile of smut, there’s some fluff too

↳ warnings- yikes where to begin. angry sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don’t be like dis), slapping, spanking, pain kink, dom/sub elements, facefucking, really rough sex, finger sucking, derogatory names, uhhh name calling, hate sex, tae is fuckin nasty yall im thriving

↳ a/n- I HAD TO REUPLOAD bc tumblr sucks lol well folks. here we are. i was given a prompt by @ladyartemesia so i blame her. as for tae, he really came for me this week and completely wrecked me, love that for me. i really popped off here and it’s only edited by me so i’m SORRY if there’s a lot of mistakes. fun fact i actually wrote almost 10k of another version of this but it frustrated me so badly i scrapped it lmao 🤡 HERE WE GO! Enjoy! feel free to send in your requests and i promise to try and get it done for you!

Kim Taehyung could only be described in a few words.

Infuriating, bothersome, vexing.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, suave.

Absolutely, inherently maddening.

And you hate how much you absolutely melt underneath his gaze, the way your heart leaps into your throat with a single word. Your body, the ultimate betrayer, opens up to him as your brain screams to abort, reverse, go back to start and do not pass go.

Kim Taehyung is not just the bane of your existence, no. He’s the little brother of your best friend, Kim Namjoon. Joonie had been in your life since you were in first grade and he in second. Taehyung was your age, but you hit it off with the older boy and haven’t separated since. Your mothers joked that you would get married one day and continue on the Kim line. Until they found out that Namjoon was 1) bisexual and 2) hopelessly in love with, ironically, a man named Kim Seokjin. He reasoned to his parents that they would at least carry on the Kim name.

Where Namjoon was sweet, caring, and deeply compassionate towards you, Taehyung was his alter. Taehyung was brash, cocky and relished in watching you squirm, whether it be out of fury or the god forsaken sexual tension. All growing up, he was the one to pull your pigtails, trip you into puddles of mud, and tease you in front of your friends. Namjoon, ever the faithful companion, was always there to pick up the pieces of what Taehyung broke.

It’s been that way with Taehyung ever since. A constant tug of war with each other, both unwilling to give a single inch to the opponent.

Your relationship with Namjoon remained steadfast as ever. Namjoon eventually moved in with his now-husband, Seokjin, who easily settled into your life as an additional partner in crime. You spent most of your days and nights settled into the couch, snuggled somehow in between or next to one of the two men you cherished most. You had the two best friends you could ask for and a happy life, blissfully Taehyung-free.

Until it wasn’t.

A loud knock wakes you from an unexpected nap on Namjoon’s couch. Your eyes crack open against the glare of the sunlight streaming through the windows. It takes a moment to gather your surroundings. You recognize that you’re in Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, and judging by the silence, you’re definitely alone there. As you reach for your phone, the screen lights up the time. 5:34 pm. Well, shit. You remember eating brunch and drinking mimosas at noon with your best friends and then lying on the couch to watch Netflix. How had you fallen asleep for five hours? How did you not wake? What the fuck did Jin put in his mimosas?

The knock is insistent again, louder this time.

“Joon! Jin! it’s me! Open up!”

The voice sounds familiar in your sleep-addled mind, but not quite enough to pinpoint it. You push your limp body off the couch and wince at the feeling of sore muscles. Couch sleeping isn’t all it’s cracked up to be once you’re past the age of 25.

“Sorry, Namjoon isn’t here-,” You open the door to explain to the guest and you’re cut off.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You rub at your sleepy eyes and allow your vision to focus, only to feel your blood stand still in your veins.

Kim Taehyung. ��Of fucking course.

“What do you mean, why am I here? I’m always here,” you tut as you fold your arms to your chest. “What are you doing here?”

He rolls his eyes and holds up his hands, two suitcases clutched in each. Who the fuck carries 4 suitcases up three flights of stairs? Kim annoying ass Taehyung does, apparently.

“I’m moving in.” He pushes past you and into the living room.

Your mouth gapes open. Namjoon certainly didn’t tell you this. Taehyung looks back at chuckles at your reaction.

“I’m guessing your best friend didn’t tell you the happy news?”

You shut your mouth, quickly jumping back into composure. “No, he failed to mention that,” you sniff. “I thought you lived with your girlfriend in Gangnam? What was her name? Rose or whatever?”

Tae stiffens, just slightly for a moment, before he plasters back on the bravado. “Obviously not anymore. We broke up, she kept the apartment. Got tired of moping at my mom’s house and I told Namjoon I wanted to come back to the city.”

You feel a slight tug at your stomach, guilt, perhaps? You clear your throat. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

He laughs as he sits on the couch, instantly throwing his feet onto the coffee table, like a heathen. “No, you’re not.”

“What do you mean, no I’m not? God, sorry for being polite!”

This, you reason, is why you can’t sustain longer than 5 minutes of civilized conversation with your best friend’s younger brother. He’s impossible.

He just smirks, and you know he loves the rise he gets out of you.

“Because I know you, and I know you don’t give a fuck about my love life.”

Au contraire. If only he knew just how much you gave a fuck.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be nice to you!” you nearly stamp your foot in frustration but hold yourself back. That would be too good of ammo for him to use against you.

“Okay, fine,” he acquiesces. “Whatever helps you feel you’re a good person.”

You’re seeing red and you know you want to continue screaming at him but you will not stoop to his level.

“Christ, I haven’t seen you in months and you’re still an asshole,” you say as you grab your keys and shoes. “And also, Jin will kill you if he sees your feet on his coffee table.”

You whip yourself around and open the door to leave and hear him call over your shoulder.

“Good to see you too, doll! Love the hairstyle, by the way.”

You close the door with a growl leaving your throat. The absolute audacity of that man.

You stomp towards the elevator to take yourself to the ground level, when you catch your reflection in the shiny metal. Your hair is in what you can only lovingly call a complete hornet’s nest. It’s ratted and sticking out in places and you feel your cheeks burn. Your first reintroduction with Taehyung is with a fight AND with you looking like a fool.

This would not do. No, sir.

“Kim Namjoon!” you shriek into your cell phone. You’re awkwardly pressing it against your ear with your shoulder as you walk out of the convenience store under your apartment building with 3 bottles of soju and a six-pack of beer. You needed to drown your shame and sorrow, and fast.

“Hello, love of my life and moon of my stars,” your best friend replies and you can hear Seokjin chuckle in the background.

“No!” You chide, already cracking a beer open as you storm into your apartment building. “Don’t you Khal Drogo me, mister! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me your fucking asshole brother was moving in with you?!”

Namjoon is silent and you can tell he’s wincing on the other end of the phone. “Oops?” He offers.

“Yeah, big oops! A heads up would have been nice! Like, ‘hey best friend, your worst enemy of all time is moving in today. Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep on my couch and wake up looking like Frankenstein’s ugly wife. Oh, and also my handsome boyfriend and I will just happen to not be there when he arrives’.”

By this time, you can tell Namjoon has put you on speakerphone because you can hear their rich laughter loud and clear. Rude bitches.

You stab your key code into your door and lock yourself in, chugging as much of the beer as you could handle.

“At least, even in her rants she thinks I’m handsome,” Jin gloats.

“I’m sorry babe,” Namjoon sighs as he finally calms down. “I didn’t know he would be there today. I just found out about it last night.”

You nibbled at your bottom lip, the annoying pit in your stomach feeling simultaneously guilty that he went through a breakup, unbridled joy that something brought him down a peg, and just a dash of excitement that he’s single now.

You let out a breath. “It’s okay, Joon. It just surprised me to see him.”

Jin butts in, “And because you have a big, fat, unresolved crush on him.”

“Jin!” You admonish. The couple laughs again and you roll your eyes, asking yourself why you put up with the two. “I do not!”

They both hum a non-committal answer, implying they don’t believe you in the slightest.

“Whatever. What are you guys doing, anyway?”

“We just got home from shopping. God, Jin looked so good in these jeans he tried on. I was actually just about to suck his coc-,”

“Kim Namjoon, do not finish that sentence! I do not wish to hear it!” You try to remain firm, but dissolve into giggles with the pair.

You could never stay mad at Namjoon long, even if his brother was the devil incarnate.

“Darling,” Jin calls through the phone. “I still expect to see you at our place tonight for our sleepover.”

Christ, you had forgotten all about your scheduled sleepover night. It was tradition and one of your favorite parts of your friendship with the couple. Jin, a literal chef, prepared a five star meal along with dessert for you while you binge watched Netflix and talked incessantly.

But you also usually slept in their spare bedroom. The exact one that Taehyung would be occupying.

“Fuck, while he’s there?”

“Oh suck it up,” Jin chides, like he’s your mother. “He’s probably not even going to leave his room. You’re not getting out of this. I’m making strawberry cheesecake.”

Your mouth waters at the idea of Jin’s famous cheesecake.

“Fine, but I get to lick the bowl and not Namjoon. Those are my terms.”

Namjoon squawked in defiance as Jin laughed. “I agree to your terms. Be at our place by 8.”

As you hung up the phone, you checked the time. 6:40. God, he hadn’t left you with much time to get ready, did he?

And you definitely needed to get ready. There was no way you were entering a room where Kim Taehyung exists looking like booboo the fool, not again.

Your fingers press the 6 digit passcode to Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, arms heavy laden with your bag of toiletries and pajamas, and a bag full of wine.

“Honey, I’m home!” You announce as you toe off your shoes and slide into the combined kitchen and living room.

You receive no reply, but greeted with the amused face of none other than the object of your filthiest dreams, Taehyung.

“Pet names already? We’re moving pretty fast, wouldn’t you say?” He asks you as he lounges at the kitchen table. He watches you open the fridge to set the wine, as comfortable in their home as you are in yours.

“Fuck off,” you grumble. “Where’s your brother?”

Tae seemed absolutely tickled by your disgruntlement. “I think they mentioned something about taking a shower. That was 20 minutes ago, though.”

“Great,” you sigh. “Those fucking horn dogs act as if they’re still newlyweds. We’ll be waiting awhile.”

You tug off your sweater, leaving you to remain in a fitted tank top and yoga pants. You tried to maintain a comfortable look as you dressed for the evening, while keeping in mind which leggings hugged your ass and showed off your toned thighs, and a tank top that dipped low to your cleavage. Okay, so maybe you had ulterior motives. You wanted to make up for your dreadful appearance earlier and make him squirm, payback for the years of him doing it to you.

You watch him as he lets his eyes roam your body, eying you like he wants to ravage you completely. You feel victorious… and also turned on. Fuck, you played yourself.

You flop onto the couch in a huff and Tae snorts before joining you.

“What’s so funny?” You eye him suspiciously.

“Nothing,” his smile feigns innocence. “I’m not allowed to laugh?”

You sniff in annoyance, not eager to fall for his tricks. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want, your highness.” Sarcasm drips from your voice and Tae finds it even more humorous.

“I see you’re still a sassy bitch.”

You gasp, audibly startled by his language and rise from the couch, fists clenched.

“I see you’re still a conceited dick!”

He rises to meet you where you stand, eyes boring into your own with his stupid sexy grin on his face. “I see you’re still not one to back down from a fight.”

You step closer, close enough to feel his breath on your face. Idly, you note it smells like peppermint and you move closer on reflex.

“Yeah? I see you’re still not one to avoid starting a fight in the first place!” you huff.

“Oh, I started it?”

“Yeah, you started it! You called me a bitch!”

You can’t believe this is happening. You feel as if you’re 6 again and fighting with him over a toy.

“A sassy bitch, actually,” he corrects, taking another step forward, bodies touching.

“Fuck you!”

“Only if you say please,” he quips before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours in a scorching hot kiss.

There’s not even a moment of hesitation on your end, immediately pulling him even closer and wrapping your arms around his neck and allowing his tongue entrance to your mouth. Your body reacts to his instantly, as if it’s wired to respond to him and him only. Your mind was blank of anything except Tae, only Tae please, and you acted purely on instinct alone. And instinct was pulling him closer and begging, more, anything he could give.

The sound of laughter coming from the hallway pulls you apart, neither of you wanting to get caught by Namjoon or Jin. You stare at him, his lips are cherry red and slightly swollen and the image burns into your retinas. He has such pretty lips after you’ve kissed him.

“Oh hey! What’s going on here?” Namjoon asks as he notices the intense eye-battle you’re engaged in with his younger brother.

It shakes you out of the spell, eye contact broken and hypnosis halted.

“Just, errrr,” you falter to find the right words to explain the situation.

“Just getting reacquainted.” Tae sounds completely unaffected, as if the passionate kiss you shared with him seconds ago was but a distant memory. Asshole.

“I’m surprised you two haven’t thrown anything at each other yet,” Jin laughs. “Or thrown yourselves at each other.”

Both you and Taehyung whip to look directly at Jin.

“Her!?” Tae is incredulous. “Gross.”

You’ll never admit out loud that his words wound you.

“You’re an asshole, Taehyung,” you punctuate your words by turning away from him and towards Namjoon, who appears amused as ever.

“Ah, I love when my best friend and my little brother are screaming at each other. Feels like old times. Can one of you cry now to complete the moment?”

Taehyung grumbles under his breath, something you can’t catch, and stalks off to his room. The slam of his door reverberates in the apartment and Jin jumps and turns to yell down the hall at his brother-in-law.

“Yah! Don’t break my apartment! I still owe money on this!”

Despite Taehyung’s appearance every so often in the kitchen or living room, the rest of the night goes on with no annoying disturbances.

Jin spoils you and his husband with expensive food, and the best cheesecake you’ve ever eaten in your life. Plus, you’re given the bowl to lick clean despite a desperately adorable pout from Namjoon you were sure would persuade Jin.

You’re settled on the couch, snuggling in the middle of the couple as an action movie flickers across the big screen tv. Truthfully, you haven’t paid attention to a single thing happening, your thoughts entirely too absorbed in Taehyung and that deliciously infuriating kiss.

Why did he do it? You couldn’t comprehend his reasoning. Perhaps he was doing it to piss you off. He’s never angered you with that level of intimacy before, but you didn’t put it past him.

You’re surprised when the credits of the movie start rolling and Jin and Namjoon fake loud yawns.

“Oh man, I’m beat,” Namjoon lies.

Jin is quick to join. “Me too, I think I’ll pass out the moment I hit the pillow.”

You roll your eyes at the men. “Will you two please go fuck already, I know that’s what you’re going to do.”

Namjoon blanches, but Jin laughs and kisses your cheek. “Ah, my smart, beautiful and chaotic child,” he coos. He leans in to your ear, voice low to keep his husband from listening. “I don’t think I’m the only one in this house who’s going to get pounded into a mattress.”

He pulls back and winks at you, deftly ignores Namjoon’s confusion and sadness of being left out, and drags him to their bedroom with a loud ‘goodnight’.

You’re left to stew in your own emotions, which is never a good thing. Was the tension that obvious? You always assumed it had been one-sided, but the kiss befuddled you more than you’d like to admit.

It finally snapped in your mind, all the dots connecting. That’s why he did it.

He kissed you so you’d stew and simmer and eventually erupt, like you’re doing now. Taehyung knows you too well for your comfort.

You grab your bag of clothes and storm towards the bathroom to change, promising yourself to forget about the kiss and not give Taehyung what he wants.

Except you’re not very good at promises, especially to yourself.

You can’t say you’re excited to sleep on the couch again. While it’s a nice couch, it’s definitely not a bed and your back will pay the price tomorrow. You supposed it was better than the floor, but not by much.

After dressing in your pajamas, a purposefully picked out combination of tiny shorts and a sports bra in case Taehyung happens upon you, you return to your bed for the night in the living room.

Namjoon graciously left blankets and a pillow out for you, and you’re complaining internally about Taehyung the whole time you make yourself a spot to sleep. If it wasn’t for stupid Taehyung and his stupid existence, you’d be sleeping like a baby on the guest bed that you loved. But no, they relegated you to the couch like an animal.

Sleep was not in the cards tonight, it seems. You toss and turn and try to press at the cushions to move a lump around and get comfortable, but it’s all for naught. You’re wide awake and very, very uncomfortable. You didn’t understand how you fell asleep on this very couch earlier in the day. Maybe the mimosas you had at brunch with the couple had been helpful.

A thought crosses your mind. Alcohol. Maybe a nice glass of wine would help tuck you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. A nightcap. Of course. You were angry at yourself for not thinking of it hours ago.

You slipped out of your disagreeable bed and into the kitchen, trying not to make a sound. Jin’s beloved kitchen was also an echo chamber of noise, even the slightest sound bouncing off its walls and amplifying it through the whole house. You still remember the way you jumped five feet in the air when Jin accidentally broke a plate. It sounded like a bomb explosion.

You bite your lip as you carefully pry the cabinet of wine glasses open, careful to not even allow a squeak of a hinge. You silently beg to stay silent and not wake anyone in the house. You didn’t want to be caught drinking wine at 2 am in the dark, that’s difficult to explain without looking like an alcoholic.

With glass in hand, you tiptoe the fridge to pull out the bottle of merlot, thinking the heavy red wine would be the best to get you sleepy and quick.

You tug the cork from the bottle and pour a healthy amount into the stemware with a smile. Liquid sleep. And you had done it without making a single sound. Perfection. The smell of the alcohol permeates through your nose as you lift the glass, placing it to your lips to take a sip.

“Wine at this hour?” the unexpected voice of Taehyung echos through the kitchen, making you yelp and jolting you hard enough that you drop the hard-earned glass of wine to the tile floor, red wine splashing as the sound of glass shattering is reverberating off the walls.

“Fuck!” You screech at the intruder. Taehyung doubles over, laughing as if he’s seen nothing funnier than what just transpired. “You asshole!”

You listen past Taehyung’s incessant laughter to ensure the owners of the apartment hadn’t awoken during the ruckus. You definitely did not want to face a tired and agitated Jin to tell him you shattered one of his Tiffany crystal goblets.

Beyond Tae, the house is silent and you’re thanking whatever god is listening for keeping your best friends asleep.

The wine is everywhere, spilling into the cracks of the tile and splattered on the walls. The crystal stemware is too; it shattered with such force that you see flecks of the shrapnel in all four corners of the room.

Tae wipes a tear from his face and you square a tempestuous look at him.

“Fucking help me! You made me drop it!”

Through snorts, he replies. “I didn’t make you do anything. You did that on your own.” Although he is arguing with you, he’s gingerly stepping into the kitchen and kneeling to pick up shards of glass.

“I wouldn’t have dropped it if you had come into the room like a fucking normal person,” you grit.

He collects the glass, the delighted grin on his face now permanent. He’s relishing in your annoyance, you know he is, and it burns you from the inside out.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t hear me.”

“You could have turned on the light! Why were you in the dark like a freak?” You’re grasping at straws, anything to pin this all on him. It would quell the fire in your belly to push it all onto him, make you feel as if you’ve won.

Taehyung levels a look at you. “And you weren’t also in the dark? Pouring a gallon of wine for yourself?”

Your cheeks flare red. Fuck, he definitely caught you there. You’re playing verbal poker with him and the hand you’re dealt falls flat compared to his royal flush. He grins, knowing he has you.

“Fuck you,” you snark, you go to insult when you’re backed into a corner.

“Ah, doll,” he winks. “We talked about that. Be careful what you wish for.”

The fire inside you is roaring to an inferno now, flames licking to your core. It’s a complicated mixture of anger and sexual energy. It’s infuriating that he’s able to make you feel every single emotion to the extreme. You hate that arguing with him turns you on, like it’s some perverse foreplay.

You moisten your lips with your tongue as you process his words, and Tae’s eyes hungrily track the appendage as it glides over your lips.

“Fuck. You.” You emphasize perfunctorily.

All thoughts of wiping up the mess are forgotten as Tae drags both you and himself off the floor and steers you to the living room, lips feverish against your own. He pushes you into the couch and tugs his shirt off, before replacing his lips to yours.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot when you’re a bitch,” he groans as he snaps the strap of your sports bra. “Seeing you get all worked up makes me so hard.”

He’s not wrong. You can see through his mesh basketball shorts that he’s sporting an impressive package, rock hard in its clothed prison.

“Yeah?” You bite at his lip.

“Hell yeah.” His hands work to the elastic band under your bust and tugs the offending material off, tits springing free as he throws it to the floor.

“Holy shit,” Taehyung breathes as he gets a good look at your chest.

You shake them gently, grinning as he watches them jiggle. “You like what you see?”

He smirks and pinches a nipple, wiping the coy smile off your face and turning it into a moan. “I like when you’re mouthy, but don’t push it.”

He lowers his head to the nipple he’s still pinching in his fingers, licking at it and replacing his fingers with his mouth. He’s moaning around the nipple, and you’re gasping for more. His hot mouth sucks at you, teeth nibbling and pulling it until you’re whimpering in delicious pain.

“Fuck!” He cries as he pops away from your nipple. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Your body warms at his words, arousal pooling between your legs. You’re sure that your thighs are drenched in your essence.

He slurps your neglected breast into his mouth, ensuring your nipples are equally abused. His tongue is skilled but his mouth is messy, saliva dripping all around your tit and it’s the hottest fucking sight you’ve ever seen.

He’s pulling away again and pinching both nipples with his hands simultaneously. “And you’re so fucking annoying.”

You’re pleading for more or to stop, you’re not sure. He continues.

“Mm, I’m gonna fuck you until you’re a good little bitch for me. Listening to every fucking thing I say.”

He releases your nipples, and you finally find the ability to focus again, staring directly at him.

“Oh, you think you’re that good?” you sass as you attempt to catch your breath. “Put your money where your mouth is.”

Tae grips your chin roughly, face inches away from yours with a sadistic grin. “You’re going to regret those words, baby.”

Instantly, he’s standing up and tugging his shorts down to let his cock spring free. Your brain misfires as you visually measure his cock and your mouth goes dry. He’s thick and long. The bulbous head is dripping pre-cum, begging you to slurp it up.

“How about I put my money where your mouth is,” he suggests as he grabs a fistful of your hair.

He teasingly rubs his cock on your lips and cheeks, makes you whimper with need. Your tongue is sticking out, desperate for him to lay it on you.

“Already so fucking greedy,” he grunts and in one motion, directs his dick into your open mouth. “I’ll fuck your throat, yeah? Greedy bitches love getting face fucked.” He is still for a beat more, eyes searching yours for consent and you nod with his cock still in your mouth. He winks, then begins a rapid pace, his cock fucking into your mouth and throat.

You’re sure you look like a goddamn mess with saliva dripping from your mouth as Taehyung punishes your throat with his thrusts. You gag and moan around him, and he tightens his grip in your hair as you see stars.

It’s indescribable. Never have you felt such pleasure from sucking cock, but Tae commands your entire body, willing you to drip with anticipation.

“My little fuck toy, god you feel so fucking good,” he hisses. “You’re gonna swallow my cum, baby.”

His hips are stuttering, he’s close, and you’re sucking him harder, cheeks pulling in harder to vacuum him in. The pressure makes him groan out loud.

“So good, so fucking good. Get ready for your prize, baby,” his voice cuts off in a gasp, as his cock twitches violently. His legs shake and he doesn’t hold back the moans of his orgasm, gasping as he feels rope after rope spill down your hot throat.

Your big doll eyes are twinkling up at him, lips still wrapped around his cock. Taehyung is sure it’s the hottest thing he’ll ever see in his lifetime. You on your knees, subservient to him and thriving for it.

“Mmm, I like it when your mouth is full like this,” he slowly pulls out of your mouth, albeit reluctantly. “Can’t talk back to me when you’re sucking my cock like a whore.”

You smile and stick out your tongue, pleased to show him you happily accepted his cum.

“Good fucking girl,” he coos as he grips your chin again. “Did you like my cum?”

You nod, brain fried from the heat of the room.

“Use your words,” he grits and grips your jaw harder. It’s enough to shock you into compliance.

“Y-yes! Fuck, I love your cum, Tae.” Your words are breathy and raspy, throat raw from his barrage.

“I knew you would, filthy slut. Sit on the couch.” He orders and you’re quick to scurry and sit on the makeshift bed you made.

His hands are tugging down your shorts quickly. No teasing or seduction here, not now. You lift your hips, and he throws them aside. Your legs close on reflex, making him growl.

“Do not hide yourself from me.” His tone is dark and you can’t help but shiver as you open yourself up to him. You want to talk back, want to fight and bite at him, but you’re quickly losing the ability to even speak, and you’re aching for him.

“Where’s my mouthy little bitch? You’re awfully quiet. Did I finally break you?” He teases, pressing your legs upward, knees to your ears. It’s pornographic how on display you are for him, soaking wet cunt front and center.

“The great Taehyung thinks he can break me with his cock,” you mewl, mustering all the false confidence you can. You’re lying through your fucking teeth and you both know it, but you continue. “You’ll have to do more than that.”

Your pussy is quaking with need now, desperate for a single touch. His hands maintain purchase on the backs of your thighs, holding them up.

“There she is,” he bites at the flesh of your leg closest to him which makes you jerk in his hold. “Gonna fuck the brat right out of you.”

He removes a hand from your thigh and you’re quick to pick up the slack, holding the thigh in place to maintain his open show of your pussy.

“Try me,” you murmur, and you’re instantly regretting your words as a harsh slap descends and lands square on your cunt.

You nearly scream, pain flooding your wanton pussy, before turning into delicious pleasure that stings and tingles right at your clit. It sizzles, and warmth blooms where his hand was.

“That’s for not believing me.” His eyes are feral and you want to bottle this memory forever.

Another slap has your legs trembling, eyes rolling back as the burn turns to a low heat. You’re dripping your wetness down onto the couch and Jin will kill you, but you don’t care.

“That was for calling me a dick,” he smirks.

Smack.

Tears spring in your eyes as the slap brings more pleasure than pain, desperately close to your edge.

“Look at you, you could cum just from this, couldn’t you?”

“F-fuck! Yes, please, I need more, please!” Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate for friction and leaking out of you like a faucet. Taehyung marvels at you, legs spread so far, with a cunt weeping with arousal for more. He can’t wait to dive in there, but he’s not finished with you yet.

“More? I don’t know if you deserve more, baby, you’ve been awfully mean to me,” he tsks, breathing hot air on your clit, making you whine.

“P-please! I’m sorry!” You’re sure you will black out with how desperately you need him. You need him more than you need oxygen.

“Beg.”

You’re quick to submit. Thoughts of fighting back are long gone, you’re his wanton little slut now.

“Please, please! Pleaseeeee, make me cum! I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” He asks with an arch of his eyebrow.

You’re nodding wildly, gazing at him with desperate, watery eyes.

“Anything, I need you so f-fucking bad it hurts!”

By the time the words leave your lips, he’s thrusting two fingers into your cunt viciously, fingering you ferociously. He arches them, rubbing against your spongy g-spot and making you scream. He knows you’re close, knows you only need one little push off the edge. He plays your body like a skilled practitioner.

“Cum on my fingers, baby. Let me see my greedy little bitch milk my fingers.”

Your body and mind react accordingly, deep down you know your body is owned completely by him, all his. Your orgasm explodes and you think you actually scream, your vision is black and your hearing goes silent for a moment as you cum harder than you have in your life. You’re squeezing his fingers with your pussy so tight and Taehyung is gently licking all the juices from his hand with his fingers still inside you.

It takes time to descend from the separate plane of existence Taehyung sent you too, but you come back and watch as he laps at the liquid of your cunt and on his hand like it’s a vital necessity. His fingers remain in your walls, and he refuses to break eye contact with you. You’re positive you could cum again from the sight.

“My little cockslut tastes so good, just how I like,” he tells you tenderly. “Like cherries, so sweet. My little cherry.”

Your cunt is aching and warming back to life as he pulls his fingers out of you. The loss is immense and you’re whimpering for more.

“Ah, ah,” he hushes you. “No whining. You’ll take what I give you. Suck my fingers clean. Taste yourself.”

He presses his fingers into your mouth, earning him a sigh, the taste of you filling your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his fingers and suckle each one to ensure your tongue laves the entire surface.

“Fuck,” he whispers and it’s his first crack in his steel reserve. “Needy.”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth and presses against you to kiss. It’s gentle, sweet, and nothing compared to the man assailing your pussy with slaps moments ago. It thrills you just the same and you return in kind, threading your hands in his wavy hair.

He pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, a moment of gentleness you actively welcome.

“This little cunt ready for me?” He whispers and you’re whimpering your reply.

“Please, fuck me. I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk.”

He grins and presses a kiss to your lips again, sweet and chaste, before he pulls away and slides down to attach those same sinful lips to your pussy.

It’s so unexpected you flinch and manage a cry as his tongue slurps up more of your delicious essence and his mouth moves to suckle on your clit. You’re not sure where the fuck he learned these tricks, but you know now you will never let him go.

“Taehyung!” You cry at the sensation. “Fuck!”

After receiving the reaction he was desperate for, he slips his tongue into your walls deep and gathers as much of you as he can, before he’s pulling back and swallowing you down.

“I couldn’t resist. Your cunt was made for me to devour.”

He doesn’t allow for a response as he throws your legs over his shoulders and lines himself up at your core.

“Condom?” He asks you, and you level a quick look at him.

“I don’t live here! I don’t have any!” You’re savage, terrified he’ll pull his cock away when all you want and can think about is the way he’ll feel pounding into you.

“Don’t be rude, baby,” he reminds you with a swat to your ass. “I’m clean, promise. You?”

You nod quickly, reveling in the spank’s tingle. “Same. I have an IUD too,” you sigh. Thank god for medical birth control implants.

“Good. You’re the only pussy I’m gonna fuck from now on,” he promises. You know you must talk about this later, when you’re thinking rationally and not with your aching pussy.

Your heart stutters and leaps into your throat but all is forgotten as he plunges into your tight heat.

“Ohhhhh shit, ahhh,” he gasps. “Baby, you’re so fucking tight and wet.” He’s on the verge of whining, becoming just as needy and greedy as you. He wastes no time in setting a pace.

His cock fills you completely, his angle allowing him to go as deep as he can, pressing the beginning of your cervix. This is surely what heaven feels like. It feels like the completeness you feel with Taehyung fully sheathed inside you.

It comes alive with flames and explosions as he fucks you, hips pistoning to plunge in and out of you with tenacity. He fucks you like he laces every single thrust with more, more than just sex. He fucks you with purpose.

You’re moaning like a pornstar now, high pitch wails and gasps and breathy moans are all you can manage. “Taehyung, yes! Feel so g-g-good!”

“That’s right baby, scream my fucking name. Make sure all the neighbors know who fucking ruined you,” he nearly spits, cock thrusting into your core at an impossible speed. “I want you to tell all of Korea who owns you. Who owns this tiny little cunt?”

The wind leaves you, and you’re gasping for air, gaping mouth open as you try to reply. It takes him fucking into you harder a few times before you feel it rush back into you.

“You, Taehyung! You! Fuck, I love your cock!”

His thumb rubs at your engorged clit, allowing it the friction it seeks. He bends forward and wraps his other hand around your throat, squeezing.

Losing air combined with the friction on your clit has you keening, so close to the edge. You try to babble his name but nothing comes out.

“Look at my pretty little slut taking my cock so well,” he praises. “You have the greediest pussy, don’t you? You need my cock daily, baby. Need to put my mouthy bitch in her place, remind her who’s in charge.”

He slows his pace but his thrusts are punishing, fucking into you as hard as he can. Your orgasm is climbing so impossibly high.

“F-fuck!” You gasp as he releases his grip on your neck. “Gonna cum! Please let me cum!”

“Yeah baby, cum for me. Cream your greedy pussy all over my cock.”

The world stops spinning as you hit the height of your climax and plunge down. Your vision goes black and your body is quivering and convulsing nearly as hard as your cunt is. Taehyung hisses at your walls sucking him in, as if you’re begging for his cum, begging for more.

“Fuck, good girl, baby, holy shit,” he’s breathless and so close.

You’re overstimulated, boneless, but he wrought two of the best orgasms you’ve ever felt in your life and you’ll be damned if you leave him high and dry. You bite your lip as you move with him, hips pounding against each other. His face is scrunched up and you know he’s close when he’s stuttering on his words. You take over for him.

“Please cum in me baby, please. Fill me up. I’m yours, baby, mark my little cunt as yours.” You don’t know where it’s coming from, but you keep it going. It feels as natural as fucking him does. “Please, Taehyung!”

At the sound of his name leaving you in a whine, he spirals down his own completion. He feels his cock pulse as he empties his load into you, your walls still reverently beckoning for him. He’s calling out your name, grasping at your tits as he finishes and you’re smiling from ear to ear. Your pussy is warm with his seed and you’re positive it’s the way you want to feel every single night.

“Holy fuck,” Taehyung rasps as he pulls his cock out of you. He thrills as he watches his cum follow, slipping out your folds and down your thigh. “I definitely marked you.”

You hum in reply, finally allowing yourself to soak in the haze of orgasmic bliss. Tae presses his head to yours again, kissing you sweetly.

“Come sleep in my bed?” He asks. He means more behind it. He wants to ask you to sleep in his bed every night, stay with him every day, be the one he grows old with. He knows there’s still more to talk about, wounds of the past to heal, but now you’re with him, and he knows he’ll work through anything.

You nod, and kiss him again, understanding his hidden meaning laced in his words.

A sly smile spreads across his face. “Last one to bed has to take the blame for the wineglass,” he teases. Your head spins as if you’ve got whiplash. He can switch from dominating to sensitive to the little shit he is so quick.

“Hey! No fucking fair! You fucked my ability to run out of me!”

“Shouldn’t have been such a sassy bitch,” he winks before he tears away towards his room.

“Taehyung, you’re an asshole!” You call as you limp your way behind him.

From behind Joon and Jin’s door, a critical voice bellows, “YAH! I’ll kill you if you got your jizz on my couch! And what is this I heard about my glass!!? HEY! Those are TIFFANY. CRYSTAL. THE DISRESPECT!”

You slip into Taehyung’s bed and wrap yourself around him, the two of you gasping with mischievous giggles.

Kim Taehyung will always be the one who knows how to drive you wild. He’ll always aggravate and infuriate you, send you reeling.

But now you didn’t think you minded it at all.

#bangtanarmynet #maknaesmutsociety #btswritersnet #btswriterscollective #kwritersworldnet #bts taehyung #bts kim taehyung #bts v #bts fic #bts smut #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #v

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funtimebunnyblog · 4 years ago

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How do you think the pillar men would react to a s/o who’s pretty innocent and a loveable ray of sunshine? Just the sweetest soul ever. Never having any ill intentions towards anyone ever, even if they’re mean to her. S/o has a lot of empathy and is just Disney princess level of kindness and nurturing. Sorry if that’s specific. I just always love the trope for couple that are opposites attract.

Did you mean: H O L L Y K U J O ???

Holly: Jotaro, make sure you eat all your vegetables 🥰 Jotaro: *is about to tell her to F*** off* All 4 of his new Pillarmen step-dads: 😡😡😡😡 Jotaro: *sweating* Yes Mom... 😰

I agree, dear Anon, I'm a bit of a sucker for big intimidating Pillarmen with a sweet little mate ❤❤❤ I'm even more of a sucker for writing it! 🥰😇😘 Please enjoy!

The Pillarmen (separate) with a sweet and nurturing s/o...

(Under the cut for length!)

Kars:

• From the moment he first met you, your kindness was baffling to Kars.

• Even before you two had begun a proper relationship, he took notice that you were always dotting on him.

• Sometimes when he was up in his study, spending hours at his desk as he worked away at piles of paperwork, you would pop in to check up on him every so often with a mug of tea for him in hand; brewed hot and black with no sugar, just the way he liked it.

• Somehow you just always knew what he liked and how he liked it.

• You often brung along a comfortable blanket to drape over his shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to his temple as you asked him if he needed anything else and encouraged him to take a break if and when he needed it.

• Nothing prompted you do do these things, he never once asked you for anything really, but it seemed as if you went out of your way to show a little kindness every time.

• Kars knew himself to be a cold creature but you were a person who made his frosty heart thaw with the warmth you radiated.

• As a man who considered nature precious life, he found himself admiring how unbelievably good you were with Animals.

• In fact, they just seemed to flock to you!

• Once, when you both went to an Animal shelter to look for a pet to adopt, Kars turned his back for only a minute and came back to find that you had somehow coaxed the meanest and mangiest old cat there into your lap.

• The shelter workers stood there absolutely gobsmacked as they watched the animal, that had scratched and hissed at and bitten anyone and everyone who had even dared to come near it, cuddling in your arms and purring like a kitten.

• "Aren't you just the sweetest thing?~" You giggled, lovingly running a hand on the cats bristly old fur as it rumbled contently, its purr was like a running motor. "What a pretty kitty you are!"

• Kars could only smile softly to himself as you both left the shelter that day with the mean old cat you were still lovingly cradling in your arms.

• He had to admit, even though he was thousands of years old and an Ultimate lifeform; you somehow felt like you were much higher above him, like a benevolent and virtuous Queen.

Esidisi:

• Your sweet and motherly nature was the very first thing to make Esidisi absolutely head over heals for you.

• There were times you made his heart swell to the point of it hurting when he watched you waltz around the house, singing a happy tune as you did chores or cooked.

• Even though you knew he didn't necessarily need to eat, you always questioned if he was hungry and offered to make him food.

• And it was always delicious homemade food at that!

• You absolutely brought life to every room you passed through and it pulsed through everything you made.

• It was as if everything you touched left behind a little magic in his eyes.

• Once, when you two were still in the stages of getting to know one another, you happened to witness him have one of his crying fits for the first time.

• Esidisi had been very stressed that day and of course, it all overwhelmed him and came out in a flood of tears.

• Immediately, you dropped the laundry you were folding the second you heard him start to sob from the other room and ran to see what was going on.

• "Oh my goodness, what happened?" You questioned, coming towards him quickly.

• Even through his barrage of tears, he didn't miss the genuine concern in your voice and the worry etched into your face as you lowered yourself on your knees in front of him, taking his tearstreaked face gently into your hands.

• "Do you need a hug? We can hug!" You told him, opening your arms to him with no hesitation whatsoever as he struggled to get an explanation out through his bawling.

• The way you rubbed his back, crooning for him to take deep breaths, was something that would stay with him forever as usually people tended to just stand back and gawk at him when he was having a meltdown.

• You hardly even knew him and there you were, comforting him and letting him cry all over you as if you had known him your whole life!

• Each time he spent his evenings with his arms wrapped around you as you cooked supper, both of you singing, he was honestly starting to think he had fallen in love with a Goddess in disguise.

Wamuu:

• You were the only person in the world who could make Wamuu, the greatest and fiercest warrior who ever lived, turn into a shy and blushing mess.

• The way you gently touched his arm and smiled up into his face as you spoke to him, asking him if he was hungry or tired after a long day of training, never failed to make this hardened Pillarman turn to mush.

• Your voice was like music to his ears, as if your words always held a secret song.

• When you did things for him, no matter how small on your part, he could always tell it was done purely out of love.

• "I thought you would get cold going out this time of year, so I made you a scarf and mittens!" You said with a smile, presenting him with the hand-knitted treasures one cold winters day when he was getting ready to leave the house.

• Wamuu was never a person to wear clothes at all. In fact, he would never be cold or hot or uncomfortable in any climate in the slightest being an Ultimate lifeform.

• But still, he stared at the folded scarf and mitts with wide eyes, holding them in his hands like one would a baby bird.

• He had seen you knitting on the couch these past few nights, smiling softly to yourself as you hummed and put love in every stitch. He had honestly thought nothing of it at the time but now it all made sense.

• You had spent all your free time making these... just for him?

• From that moment on, whenever he and the other Pillarmen went outside in the snow (doing God-knows-what), you can bet that he was wearing that scarf and mittens.

• With nothing else but his loincloth, of course.

• When the others questioned him as to why he was wearing such ridiculous attire when he had no need for them, he simply stood there with his head held high; his scarf swaying in the wind as he clenched his mittened hands into fists at his sides.

• "With all due respect my Masters; my beloved bride made these for me." He said calmly, the corners of his lips quirking into a soft smile as their expressions morphed into ones of disbelief. "And believe me when I say that I cherish them as much as I cherish her."

• The warrior actually felt a little boost in his pride seeing the little gleam of jealousy in his companions' eyes at his words.

• It only fed his little ego more when he showed up one day with a new knitted hat with a fuzzy pom-pom on top and Esidisi actually cried and asked if you could make one for him too.

Santana:

• Santana had always rightfully believed that all Humans were the same; loud, annoying, primitive, cruel, dangerous...

• That was until he fell in love with you of course.

• You were a kind of Human he wasn't aware existed, a very soft and loving kind.

• You just seemed to radiate feelings that touched his very soul; like a bouncy ball of sunshine.

• If anyone had ever done something even borderline disrespectful to Santana, he wouldn't put hesitate them in their rightful place (in his stomach that was) but you on the other hand; you always brushed any rude behavior from another off with a smile.

• Always curious, Santana often found himself hanging around in the background, watching you carry out your housework routine.

• You didn't mind this of course, you always assured him that you liked his company.

• Sometimes you even lovingly referred to him as your shadow.

• "Would you like to help, Santana sweetie?" You asked him with a smile as you peered over your shoulder; you were rolling out and cutting homemade cookie dough to bake.

• He noticed you were always so patient, praising him for the littlest things; guiding his hands with the rolling pin, showing him how to flour the cutter and carefully peel away the outline of the shapes.

• "A star for my star," you beamed, holding up a warm star shaped sugar cookie for him to take when you had pulled them from the oven.

• He blinked as you waved the freshly baked cookie in his face, taking it carefully.

• A little smile curled around the pastry when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, thanking him for his help.

• You and only you could make him feel tingles from the insides out.

• One of his most favourite routines with you was when you sat on the couch on your phone or watching T.V at night; where you'd invite him to lay his head in your lap.

• Your melodic voice could only be compared to a Princess', your little fingers combing out the tangles of his thick red hair as you hummed to him or talked to him about his day before he was lulled to sleep by it all.

• Your sweetness, your warmth, your empathy; it gave him a hope for Humanity he never had before he met you...

#funnybunny #pillarmen #pillarmen headcanons #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #kars x reader #esidisi x reader #wamuu x reader #santana x reader #anon ask #my writing

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raendown · 4 years ago

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Fandom: Marvel Pairing: SamBucky Word count: 2070 Rated: T+ Summary: Steve had only just been thinking about how much he missed his best friend when his phone started ringing. Great minds think alike! Except apparently Bucky had meant to call someone else entirely and Steve was not at all prepared for the discovery of this baffling - but adorable - secret.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

From Where You Are

He may have staunchly denied it every time Tony or Natasha or anyone else teased him for it but Steve knew damn well that he had a - very slight! - penchant for dramatics. Dramatics like slamming an entire plane down in to the icy ocean rather than just turning the damn thing around and flying in circles until Peggy or Howard came up with the latest madcap rescue plan. Yeah. He was a self aware guy. Which meant he knew exactly how much teasing he would get if he so much as dared to open his mouth and complain about life on the run.

Because as well as Steve knew himself, his friends knew him better. He might be lucky to get a whole three words in to his sentence before any of the people he currently had available to listen would guess exactly what he was really complaining about. He missed Bucky. So sue him! He’d already spent seventy years thinking his best friend was dead and then another two knowing he was out there but not exactly all there. Now finally he knew exactly where Bucky was. He knew that Bucky knew exactly who he was. They could be best friends again.

Through video calls only.

Steve clenched his jaw against the urge to close both eyes and whine at the unfairness of it all. Leaving Bucky in Wakanda had been the right choice for everyone but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Could the world maybe stop being so unfair for just five damn minutes? Give a guy a chance to reunite properly with the one thing that had centered the first couple decades of his life? Maybe get a hug or two in while Bucky was only one-armed and half defenseless against a few rounds of proper manly affection? It didn’t sound like too much to ask. Yet here he was sitting up just past midnight trying to calculate time zones to figure out if maybe he could get a quick call in now that Sam and Natasha were falling asleep. If he snuck out on to the balcony he might be able to avoid waking them and therefore avoid the inevitable teasing over his ‘very obvious pining’.

So lost in his own head was he that Steve nearly threw his phone against the wall when it began signing in his hand. It took a slow blink or two for his thoughts to clear enough that he understood no, he had not called Bucky out of rote habit, Bucky was calling him. Score one for that mental best friend bond he’d heard the other two joking about the other day. Steve was smiling as he accepted the call and held it up at an angle he hoped would get his face properly.

“Hey, Buc- oh my god, are you okay?”

Small on the screen and folding in to himself like he was trying to be just as small in person, Bucky’s eyes were wild where they stared somewhat just over top of whatever device he’d used to call from. He took several ragged breaths in and let them all out a little too heavily before he could speak.

“No.”

“I’m here, pal, what’s up?”

“Can you- where’s Sam?”

Steve felt his eyebrows lift up together. “Uh, Sam? Is in the next room. Why?”

A good question, he felt, since in the eight or so months since they had all last been together in Wakanda, Bucky had never once so much as breathed Sam’s name during these scattered video calls. Steve had seen them have maybe two conversations in the palace and both of those had been stilted as hell. Two men dancing around the fact that they’d both tried to kill each other on several occasions. Now here was Bucky jerking his eyes over to look directly at the camera and Steve had never seen him look so haunted before. Which, really, was saying something.

“I want to talk to Sam,” he said, voice quiet, aching with something Steve hadn’t heard before. They had talked about Bucky having nightmares. He’d just never seen one, not even the aftermath. Bucky had been a keep-it-close-to-the-chest guy long before what happened with HYDRA.

“Uh, okay. Sure. He might be asleep but I’ll just- yeah.”

Feeling more than a little confused, he did just that. Stood and marched to the door with a single minded purpose that could only come with being given a mission. Bucky wanted to talk to Sam and he might not understand why but he was going to make that happen even if he had to wake the man up.

Thankfully, he did not have to wake the man up, although if he’d waited even a single full minute longer that might have been the case. Sam hadn’t even taken the time to undress or properly get in to what passed as his bed for tonight. He was still sitting half slumped against the wall on a little nest of blankets, carefully positioned in exactly the opposite corner from Natasha because one simply did not sleep next to a Russian super spy knowing that the slightest disturbance would send her in to full mission mode in less than five seconds. Besides, Sam had laughed when he pointed that out, I’m a serial sleep cuddler and I don’t think that’s a great idea here. Who knows how many knives she’s got under her pillow?

“Sam?” Fond amusement rippled through the layers of worry as Steve watched his friend’s head loll towards him, indolent and exhausted. “Hey, uh, Bucky’s on a call. He wants...to talk to you?” That got a reaction. His eyes cracked open to take in the phone Steve was holding out and his chin lifted faintly in greeting.

“Hey man,” he ground out, voice coarse with near-sleep. “‘Nother nightmare?”

“Can you tell me a story?” Bucky asked.

Steve very nearly dropped the phone. He almost dropped it again when Sam, without any external reaction whatsoever, immediately launched in with, “So you know that guy Dwayne I was telling you about? From homeroom? God, lemme tell you about how stupid this guy is. We’re at prom, right? And there’s this honey he’s had his eyes on for like three months only she went to prom with Harry Murdock- yeah, you know, the quarterback. Fuckin’ quarterbacks, man.”

It was kind of like watching something his own weird dreams might come up with. A sequence of events that made very little sense once you’d woken up and tried to piece it all back together. Sam’s eyes gradually slid closed again but his mouth just kept going like this was all totally normal, like he often spent his nights sitting up and telling Bucky random stories about the other kids he’d gone to highschool with. And on the opposite end of the call Bucky’s face grew less haunted with every word until the panic had drained out of him entirely and his own eyes were sliding down. He must have been using a tablet or laptop because the camera stayed perfectly centered on him even when his head at last fell gently down against his chest.

“-and I mean, yeah, I get what he was going for with the ribbons but fuck, it really just made the whole thing worse. Best night of my entire highschool career gone right down the drain because Harry Murdock was too ashamed to tell his parents he wanted to take me to prom and Lisa Furlow was too good of a friend to tell anyone she was just a beard. Obviously the teachers were mad about the horse being there but- ah. He fall asleep?” It took a second for Steve to realize his friend was asking him a question.

“Yeah. He did.”

“S’good. Good. ‘M gonna too. Night, Steve.” And then he was out too. Sam’s head lolled again, face going slack, and Steve was left standing there with a phone in his hand and several new knots in his chest, all of them shaped like confusion.

Well. That. Had happened. Lifting his hand, Steve watched the live image of his best friend sleeping peacefully, a direct contrast to the shaken man who had reached out for help. Reached out to someone who wasn’t Steve. He’d be lying if he tried to say some part of that didn’t sting but he was a big enough person to recognize that helping Bucky was so much more important than stroking his own ego even if he did still feel like the ground was shaky between them after everything that had happened. Watching the man now, he certainly couldn’t deny that whatever the hell just happened seemed to have helped. Bucky hadn’t looked so at peace since he’d volunteered to go back in to cryo while the Wakandans figured out a way to help him.

Movement from the opposite corner of the room drew Steve’s eye and when he glanced over he found Natasha sitting primly with both eyebrows raised in question. Not having much of an explanation, he could only give her a helpless one-shoulder shrug. They held each others’ gazes in matching confusion for several beats until Steve turned to look back at where Sam lay, asleep and content, slumped against the wall. He was definitely going to wake up to an aching back.

And a whole lot of questions.

Unfortunately for Steve’s overwhelming curiosity, he was still self-aware enough to know he didn’t have the heart to wake Sam, not knowing that it was ultimately his own fault the other man was so tired. If he hadn’t shown up on Sam’s doorstep that day they wouldn’t both be here, on the run from their own country, unable to call home to the people they cared about, worn to the bone from running and fighting and hiding themselves away in whatever dingy hole they found to crash in for a night or two. No, Steve would not be the one to disturb any rest his friend managed to find.

“You gonna hang up some time this century?” Natasha’s voice murmured through the shadows.

“Oh, yeah, I probably should.”

She watched him do so with what was probably an all too obvious reluctance. Then she grinned. “We’re giving him the third degree tomorrow, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“So many questions. I need to know absolutely everything that led to Sam Wilson telling the Winter Soldier bedtime stories. Everything.”

“That was weird, right?” Steve ran a hand through his hair, absently noting a tremble in the fingers. “We should probably get some sleep too. I mean, you try. Don’t think I’ll be able to get any.”

Natasha unfolded herself from the floor with the corners of her mouth curling up in a little smirk he couldn’t bring himself to look away from. “No, I think I’ll be fine. Let’s go get some coffee. We’ll coordinate our plan of attack for when this guy gets back to the land of the living.” She jerked one thumb at Sam’s form and Steve finally had to peel his eyes away just to hold in the laughter that wanted to spill out.

“Alright. Yeah. Coffee. And a plan of attack. Sounds good to me.”

“What was it they called you? The star spangled man with a plan?”

Steve groaned and covered his eyes with the hand not still holding his phone. “Please tell me there’s no surviving footage of me prancing around on stage in tights.”

“Why would I need footage when I get front row seats every time you suit up?” Natasha sauntered away from him, probably - definitely - aware exactly what shade of red she’d just left on his face. Front row seats indeed. He certainly didn’t mind his own front row seat whenever he had the chance and the times Natasha had to join them out here on the run from their own government gave him plenty of chances.

One last look at his phone made him smile before Steve slipped it in to his pocket and gently clapped both hands together, rubbing his palms back and forth. Coffee did sound good. Coffee with Natasha while they figured out exactly how much hell to give Sam over how he was apparently reading bedtime stories for a man he hadn’t said two words about in all the time since they’d left Wakanda. This was going to be fun.

#rae writes #sambucky #winterfalcon #sam #bucky #steve #natasha #fanfiction #mcu #i already have a companion piece almost done...#i did warn y'all to expect more sambucky #the world is not soft and so my writing will be

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hongism · 5 years ago

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mists of celeste ➻ ten

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ Word Count: 4.9k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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mists of celeste act one ➻ part ten

The water is cold under your bare feet. The red moon cascades dark light over the lake, and you glance around in search of your typical companion. The water swirls around your ankles as you wade through it, moving closer to the shore. Daichi is at the edge again, squatted down on the rocks. He prods at the pebbles beneath the water with his fingers. As you get closer to him, you see that he’s drawing small patterns in them. They are familiar ones, the same design that lines the skin along your spine. You bring a hand to the back of your neck just at the thought of them.

“You messed up,” Daichi says once you’re within a couple feet of him. A frown comes to your lips. “You used your abilities. In front of many people. You could have been caught, Umiko. Do you not realize that?”

“I do.”

“Then what were you thinking? Have you grown to be that careless?”

You don’t answer the man; instead, you turn away from him to squeeze your eyes shut and try to reign in the anger that bubbles in your gut.

“Do you wish to be caught? Should the military take you back and use you as a siphon? Why be careless now, Umiko? For what? For lives that don’t matter?”

You spin on your heel and kick up some of the black water. It smacks Daichi across the eyes. He flinches away from the attack but doesn’t make much of an effort to block it. He wipes the water away from his face.

A moment later, you find yourself flat on your back in the water. Daichi hasn’t budged an inch, and you know that he’s using his own powers to attack you. You pull yourself up, clothes weighed down by the water, and lunge towards Daichi. He doesn’t even lift a finger to send you crashing to the water again.

“You are careless and juvenile. Too much is slipping through, and you are allowing it. You must hide your markings. You will be caught if you don’t. You are already dangerously close to exposing yourself. Whether you want to face it or not, there is a Siren nearby. You must acknowledge it and guard yourself properly against him.”

“Busy?”

The voice drags you out of the reverie, and you lurch forward as you pull yourself out of the dreamscape. You blink at the scene before you, the black landscape of space looming before you without end. You hadn’t even realized that you let yourself slip into the dreamscape while awake. The man who spoke comes up on your right.

“You’re up!” You exhale, surprise in your tone as you look at the man who smiles like a Cheshire back at you. You haven’t seen him since Yunho carried his scarily limp body off the transport ship. It’s a vague memory, especially since your body was still overrun by the adrenaline in your system. You do remember trying to follow Yunho only to be stopped by Jongho. The Berserker had told you to head back to your room and get some rest while Yunho worked his magic, and you had no choice but to do just that.

“Yea, none the worse for wear,” San laughs out. He scratches at the back of his neck. “Slept for three days straight though. I’m mildly impressed with myself. Almost pulled a you there.” He sends a cheeky wink your way. You scoff at his remark, reaching over to punch his bicep. “Ouch! Hey! Go easy on the goods. I’m still fragile.”

“Oh, quit whining. If you have enough energy to make fun of me, I can hit you.” You roll your eyes before looking back out into space. “What was Yunho’s verdict?”

“Overexertion,” San answers with a sigh. “Using my powers too much in a short period of time. I’m good to move around but I should avoid things that could be taxing. Which means no sex.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” Your elbow finds San’s side as you utter the half-hearted reply. He whines at the impact. “Don’t complain too much or you’ll overexert yourself again.”

“Wow, ouch. I am physically hurt by your words. I cannot believe you would turn your back on me like this when I’m having such a rough time. The ultimate betrayal truly.” San places his hand over his chest, grasping the material of his shirt as he pretends to double over in pain. You award him with a slight glare. It’s enough to cause him to relent and stand up straight, looking out the window as you do.

You’re on the bridge for once. You try to make a point of avoiding the bridge simply because you don’t want to run into Hongjoong, and the captain spends all of his time here so it’s hard to avoid someone like that. You don’t have a choice today; Seonghwa asked that you come to the bridge first thing because Hongjoong wanted to see you. Of course, Hongjoong had to be busy with something right when you came to the bridge, thus here you are now waiting for said man to just hurry the fuck up and get this over with.

“I hate space with a passion,” you mutter after a few moments of just looking out into the vast emptiness.

“You picked a bad line of work then.” You release a laugh, bringing your arms up to cross over your chest.

“Maybe I did.”

“Why do you hate space so much?”

“It’s too big. Empty but at the same time full. So many unknowns out there.”

“Well, there are a lot of knowns as well,” San argues. “It isn’t all bad, is it? There’s a lot of beauty to space, even if you can’t always see it. Like an oyster or a geode. You can’t see the beauty on the outside, but the deeper you go, the more beauty you see. No?”

“I suppose you’re right,” you mutter. You drag your tongue over the front of your teeth, saying nothing more, but San doesn’t seem too bothered.

“It’s a bit ironic for you to hate space yet spend so much time in it.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. Didn’t have any choice at all really.”

San laughs in response to your comment even though nothing about what you said is amusing in the slightest.

“I understand that feeling all too well.”

You neglect to reply. Something about his words and the tone lingering in them reminds you of what Yeosang had mentioned during the mission.

“San chose what he is, and he chose to be a weapon. He chose what he is on the crew for one very clear reason. It’s all because that’s how San views himself.”

You want to pry and ask San about it yourself, hear it come from his lips and not Yeosang’s, but you hesitate for too long. A door slides open behind the two of you, and you glance over your shoulder to see Seonghwa stepping out of the captain’s cabin.

“Hongjoong is ready to see you both,” he says in a flat tone. You turn to San unaware that he would be joining you in meeting with Hongjoong. It makes you feel mildly better about this situation because at least you won’t be alone with Hongjoong and Seonghwa. “Follow me.” Seonghwa leads the way back into Hongjoong’s room. You follow first, San close on your heels.

The platinum-haired captain is the first thing you see when you enter the room. Then, a large desk covered in papers left and right. Some are maps, others seem like trade agreements, news articles, everything you can think of is splayed before him on the wooden desk. He lifts his head as Seonghwa brings you and San in.

“Did Mingi and Yeosang conclude the trade deals for the cargo yet?” Hongjoong asks, obviously talking to Seonghwa rather than you or San.

“They are still in the midst of collecting signatures and papers.”

As your gaze darts around the cabin, you notice how similar the structure of the room is to the other ship you were aboard not too long ago. You remember the missing bundle of papers all of a sudden, recalling that you misplaced them sometime after being brought to Yunho.

I should drop by and see if he has them. If he didn’t just give them to Hongjoong or Seonghwa already. Would he do that? I don’t have enough reasons to trust that he wouldn’t. Fuck, I should have never gotten caught. Shouldn’t have gotten shot in the first place either. Fucking careless and sloppy.

“Ah, good. The two of you are here.” Hongjoong sighs and drops the papers in his hand as he sees you and San step out from behind Seonghwa’s back.

You shift your weight from foot to foot. A sudden wave of anxiety washes over you. San seems to be in the same predicament; he picks at the skin around his fingernails while looking at the floor. Something about the way the two of you are lined up before Hongjoong makes you feel like a child again, being lectured by your teacher for misbehaving in class. Except this time, it’s far different than that. You stand before a dangerous criminal and pirate who could kill you in the blink of an eye should he not like your response to whatever he asks.

“San. What happened on the mission?”

San lifts his chin to look over at the captain, eyes gaining a bit more confidence as he begins to speak.

“I failed to keep my emotions in check and let Yeosang’s words get in my head.”

“Did you talk to Yunho about it?”

“He tried to help but there wasn’t much he could say or do to help.”

“Yunho isn’t a miracle worker,” Seonghwa cuts in, moving to the side of Hongjoong’s desk. He folds his arms behind his back and stands straight as can be. “He can fix the physical but not the mental.”

“I’m well aware of that, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong mutters back without looking at the Lieutenant. “However, Yunho is more in tune with his emotions than the others. People like that know how to talk to people. San, what is your opinion on the mission and the outcome of it?”

San purses his lips, looking down at the floor now. He takes a deep breath before beginning to talk again, this time in a much quieter tone.

“My own emotions were the cause for the failure of the mission. I should have stayed focused, and it is my fault that the outcome turned out the way it did. There is no one else to blame for it, and I fully acknowledge that. So, I apologize to both you and Lieutenant, Captain.” San pauses and turns to you now, eyes full of regret as he looks at you. “I’m sorry to you as well for my behavior and causing the mission to be a failure due to my actions.”

You open your mouth to respond, to tell him that there’s no need to apologize, just to reassure him maybe. You don’t get the chance to say anything though, because Hongjoong cuts in with another question.

“What happened after the mission?”

“I expended too much stamina using my powers and because of that, I overexerted myself. Passed out from the exhaustion.”

“And why do you consider the mission to be a failure?”

“It was supposed to be a covert mission. Get in and get out without being seen or heard.”

“Did you get what I wanted?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“What did the military on Medra have to report about the situation?”

San looks a bit startled by the question, jaw stuttering as he fumbles to come up with a response. Seonghwa pulls a tablet off Hongjoong’s desk and scrolls around on it for a bit before answering Hongjoong’s question.

“Medra reported a single dangerous criminal, highly trained and dangerous. One who was able to dispatch a unit of soldiers with ease, but one and only one criminal. Used a sniper rifle, pistol, and a knife to kill the soldiers.”

You listen on with a growing pit in your stomach. The more Seonghwa speaks, the more the report sounds like it is you who Medra reported. And if Medra reported you and your identity, then Hongjoong could get rid of you in the blink of an eye. You wouldn’t even get the chance to find your damn papers.

“That one criminal being Levi Tatsumaki, who has already been detained, brought into custody, and sentenced to death for larceny and murder.”

You nearly exhale a sigh of relief. Hongjoong grins at you and San.

“The mission went fine. Yes, your actions got you caught. However, you got the job done and removed a competitor in the process.”

You glance over at San, and his lips are curling down into a scowl. He doesn’t seem pleased in the slightest with Hongjoong’s words. Part of you thinks that he was hoping for Hongjoong to tear him down and ridicule him.

“I’m proud of you, San,” Hongjoong says. There is an uncharacteristic gentleness in Hongjoong’s tone. The cruel and almost evil exterior seems to melt away, revealing genuine concern for San’s wellbeing. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. If I were upset with your behavior and how you handled the situation, we would not be having this conversation. You are well aware of that.”

San nods along with Hongjoong’s words but doesn’t provide any further comment. The captain watches him in silence for a few moments before speaking again.

“You’re dismissed, San.”

The Spectre turns around without any hesitation, following the order with haste, and you opt to watch him walk out until the door slides shut behind his retreating figure.

“Now for you,” Hongjoong says. The warmth he had in his tone with San dissipates, leaving it cold and harsh again. “What is your opinion of the mission?”

“It was just fine,” you say as you attempt to keep your tone flat. “I’m not sure what you want to hear from me.”

“Why did you disobey Yeosang’s orders?”

“I saw an opportunity and took it.”

“Why?” Hongjoong presses further. You tilt your head to the side ever so slightly.

“It was an opportunity. Nothing more,” you reiterate.

“People don’t consider things to be an opportunity unless they see a good outcome to it,” Hongjoong says. He pushes back from his desk and stands up. In a few quick strides, he wraps around the wood and comes to a halt in front of it. Arms come to rest over his chest, and he leans against the lip of the desk while staring at you. “So what was the good outcome you saw in it?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” You shake your head. “There was nothing to it. I just took the chance.”

“What did you think would happen after you took that chance?”

“I-I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking about that. My… my first instinct was to shoot and kill. That’s what I did.”

“I wonder if that’s what you did with the king as well?” Hongjoong’s tone trails off into inquiry, and he mirrors the tilt of your chin. “But it can’t have been. Nobody ever just takes those chances. They see something in them. I think I have you figured out, Y/N L/N. Even if you don’t want to admit it outright, your first instinct was to protect. You heard that San was in danger, you felt the need to protect him, and you felt the need to repay him for what he did to save you initially. Thus, you wanted to save him. Removing the obstacles in your way was the first step: Yeosang’s orders, the physical distance, the soldiers in your path. You may not want to hear it or admit it, but that is the reason for your actions.”

The man smirks at you as he finishes his crude analysis of your behavior. You straighten your head again, glaring at him with such intensity that Seonghwa takes a step in your direction. Hongjoong lifts a hand to stop him though. He nods his head ever so slightly in your direction as though prompting you to speak your mind.

“You shouldn’t act like you know me because you don’t,” you spit out with vehemence to your tone. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“You’re wrong.” Hongjoong drops his chin as he chuckles. “I know one thing for certain. You are not an Elitist.”

The words cause you to freeze immediately. You feel all color leave your cheeks as your heart plummets, and you think that Daichi was right all along. Your attempts to stay calm and collected go out the window at Hongjoong’s accusation.

“You have a clever method of concealing yourself.”

You bite down so hard on your tongue that it draws blood.

“I’m not exactly sure what you are yet,” Hongjoong says as he brings his chin back up. The words bring immediate relief to your racing heart, and you try not to place a hand over your chest. “For certain, you are not an Elitist.”

“Why do you think that?” You ask in as stable a tone as you can manage.

“I have studied Elitists in the past, and I am one myself. I should know how my own kind behaves by now. They make decisions with their head and only their head. Follow orders they deem fair and necessary. They do not act on impulse and are calm and calculating. You seem to make decisions with your heart, act on impulse, lack a sense of calm, and do not follow orders.”

“That’s false logic. Every single person here is a criminal. Yeosang is a traitor, albeit a loyal one, but still branded a traitor nonetheless. Which one of you has ever followed orders in the past?”

“I specified fair and necessary orders. If you were truly an Elitist, you would’ve seen Yeosang’s reasoning in asking you to stay on the cliffside. If you were only thinking with logic, you would’ve followed his orders. However, you deemed it unimportant because you saw that you had an opportunity to repay a debt. That is all beside the point though. The real reason I wanted you here is because I need to know what you want to be on the crew. You have the same choice that every other person on this crew has had.”

“According to the military, I am a weapon. Don’t you view me in the same light?”

“This isn’t the military, Y/N. You have a choice.”

“I don’t want one. Decide what you need me to do yourself. You obviously view me as a tool to be used, and I am willing to be that weapon until you don’t see any further use for me. Or you can dump me out the airlock now. Or leave me on some planet. Pick your poison.”

“If you are so willing to chuck your life away without a care, why didn’t you just turn yourself in?” Hongjoong asks all of a sudden. “Yeosang mentioned that you told him you have no more goals in life. Either you’re lying to cover for something or you truly don’t care about your life. What’s your game? You could’ve been dead and gone already.”

“That would’ve made me a martyr. That’s not how I want to be remembered. That’s not what I wanted.”

“How do you want to be remembered then?”

“I don’t want to be remembered at all,” you utter. Your tone falls to a hush without you intending for it to, and Hongjoong’s gaze almost softens as he glares at you.

“So you’re running then. Interesting.” He pushes off the desk and drops his arms to his side. You blink at him with question in your eyes. “Very well then. I will have you be a weapon for me if that is how you wish to be treated. You’re dismissed.”

You offer a nod in response before turning around to head out of the office. Neither Seonghwa or Hongjoong say anything else. The door slides shut behind you. You hesitate there for a moment, mulling over what Hongjoong said to you before making your way to the med bay.

I have to get those papers and get out of here as soon as possible. It’s only going to get more dangerous as time goes on, and I can’t risk any of these people figuring out more than they already know.

Your knuckles rap against the cold metal of the med bay door. You have fingerprint access to the room, but it still feels awkward barging into rooms left and right without warning.

“Come in!” Yunho’s warm voice welcomes you in, and you tap at the keypad before stepping into the cool interior of the med bay. “Oh! Y/N, I’m glad to see you.”

He grins from ear to ear as he sees who you are. You return the gesture with a small smile of your own but can’t keep your eyes from darting around the room to see if you can find any sign of your papers.

“I’m really happy to see you up and moving alright. I heard you still managed to handle things with relative ease during your mission.”

“I did, yea. B-But that’s not why I’m here.”

“Oh, of course! Do you need a checkup on your arm? I think those stitches should be ready to come out by now.”

It isn’t the reason for your visit at all, but you’ll go along with it for now. At least until you find what you’re looking for, that is. You seat yourself on the edge of one of the white beds and hold out your arm for Yunho. He takes hold of your wrist, pushing your sleeve up with a gentle touch that causes goosebumps to ghost over your skin. He tugs at the white gauze around your healing wound until it comes completely loose.

“Look at that. Ready to come out as I thought. Do you want me to go ahead and take them out? You can let them dissolve over time if you’d rather.”

“No, no. It’s okay, go ahead!” You motion towards your arm. As Yunho turns around and searches for some supplies, you blink around the room with a darting gaze. Even when he returns to you and starts pulling the stitches loose, you continue to look around.

“Is everything alright?” Yunho asks after a moment. You bring your gaze back to him. His lips are pressed into a delicate frown, and there’s a gleam of concern in his dark eyes. You push it aside with a small grin.

“I just can’t watch you pull them out. Makes me queasy.”

“I can make some small talk if you’d like?”

“Sure…” Your disinterest shows in your tone, however, and Yunho gives up on the attempts to talk with you. He pulls back from your arm.

“You’re free to go. Just don’t go picking at that wound anymore. I don’t wanna have to stick you with more needles.” Yunho winks as he looks at you out the corner of his eye.

“Wait!” You call out when he turns away from the bed. Yunho glances back at you, expectancy in his expression. “Did you – um, did you find anything on me when I first came in? With San, I mean? No, on me. But when I came in with San.”

Yunho tilts his head a bit and frowns at the ceiling.

“I don’t think so?”

“Are you certain?”

“I don’t remember seeing anything.”

“Nothing at all?” You continue to pry. Disbelief crawls into your tone. “A bundle of papers maybe? Tied around the middle?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N. Honestly and truly.”

“Are you sure you just aren’t remembering wrong? Or lying to me? Those papers are really important to me. Did you give them to Hongjoong?” Yunho’s jaw stutters at your accusations, and he releases a huff of air.

“I don’t doubt that they’re important, Y/N. Really I don’t. But I just do not know what you’re talking about. I saw nothing on you when you came in. And if it was something that belonged to you, I wouldn’t take it or give it to Hongjoong. I’m not that kind of person. I thought I’ve made that moderately clear by now, but maybe I haven’t. Whatever was on you wasn’t my main focus. It was treating your wound. I’m sorry.”

If you were in a clearer state of mind, you would not get so blindly upset with him like you are now. However, you aren’t thinking straight and all your brain can think about is the possibility of Hongjoong having ownership of those papers. Without a name to them, anyone can claim them, and it isn’t your intention to let the most notorious criminal in the universe have free pardon papers. You push up from the med bed and exit without saying anything else to Yunho. You’re certain that regret will bubble in your gut later, but right now all you can think about is going straight to your room and figuring out a plan of action in private.

You tap furiously at the keypad outside your door in your haste. It slides open with a whoosh. You aren’t expecting to find anything inside except for an empty room, let alone someone sitting on the edge of your bed. But there San is on the edge of your bed with a trembling knee and picking at the skin around his fingernails. When you step inside, he all but jumps to his feet.

“I’m sorry for intruding!” He says immediately before you can ask why he’s here.

“Do you need something?” You inquire, letting the door slide shut behind you. The lights flicker on when you hit the switch, San almost invisible in the darkness. He opens and shuts his mouth a few times. No words leave him for a moment, then he reaches into his jacket and pulls something out. You lunge forward to snatch the item from his hand before you can think twice. It’s your bundle of papers. The full pardon back in your hands. A laugh of disbelief escapes your lungs.

“I-I’m sorry for taking them,” San says as you look over the bundle. “I should’ve have taken them, and I know that. I was just worried that Hongjoong or Seonghwa would find them. Or worse, Yeosang. They must be important to you for you to have gotten shot for them so I… I tried my best to hide them. I wanted to give them back to you sooner but things just kept happening and I couldn’t get a moment alone with you without someone stopping me. The timing never worked out right, I guess. But I wanted to get them back to you now.”

You drag your thumb over the front of the papers.

“These are my ticket to freedom,” you mutter.

“They’re pardon papers, aren’t they?” San asks, standing across from you. “Meant for you, I take it? I-Is – do you – do you want to return to the military then?”

“Absolutely not,” you deny in a heartbeat. Pulling your eyes up to meet San’s, you can’t keep a smile from overtaking your lips.

“O-Oh. I just – sorry, I just assumed that you want to be pardoned. Um… they – no, nevermind. It’s not important.” San shakes his head. The beginnings of a blush are crawling up his neck and cheeks. Without thinking twice, you reach forward and pull San into a tight hug. You squeeze him against your body, arms folded around his neck. The action catches San off guard for certain, and he flails a little before hugging you back albeit with a lot more hesitation. “You seem really happy,” he says against your ear. You unravel your arms from San and step back to look down at the bundle once more.

“They aren’t for me actually,” you admit. “They’re for someone important and special to me. I finally get to free him.”

“That’s a lot of effort for one person,” San murmurs through a melancholy smile.

“This one person is worth ten thousand. He’s worth any amount of effort in the universe. Thank you, San. I-I – you didn’t have to do that but you did.”

“It’s nothing. Don’t think too hard about it.” San heaves a deep sigh. “I’m just glad I could help in some way.”

“Well, you’ve helped me more than once now. I’m… I didn’t expect that from anyone aboard this ship.” San’s embarrassment melts away at your words. That cheeky smile returns to his lips, and he teases the corner of his mouth with his tongue.

“You could repay me then,” he suggests, sending a teasing wink your way. You blink back in confusion. “A kiss maybe?” You immediately roll your eyes at his remark, swinging an arm at his. He whines when you hit him, falling back as though you hit him with an insane amount of force. You steady him with the same arm and dip in before he can recover. You brush your lips over his cheek. He freezes under your touch within an instant. Red soars up his neck and cheeks.

“There. Maybe next time you can get one on the lips.”

✧✧✧

a/n: here we are at the end of act one!!! one down, fourteen to go 🤡 but anyways! what did you think of the conclusion to this arc? what’s been your fav part so far? your fav character? just tell me anything and everything! i love seeing your feedback and interaction with this story and i’m so excited to share more of it with you guys!

taglist: @faeriewoobin @sugarrimajins @atinyinwonderland @2504-life @lil7bluedragon @sparklychangbin @jeong-uwu @jeonartemis

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

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jombocostello · 4 years ago

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You’ll Never Be Alone Again (Polnareff x Reader)

Anonymous asked: would it b possible to request some angsty polnareff stuff 😳😳😳✌🏼❤️

I would like to formally thank you for sending me this request. I’ve had this idea for a couple months now and you finally inspired me to write it out! I really hope you enjoy it, it was certainly very fun to write. Thanks again!!

(I’m also gonna add a link to a Polnareff fanfiction I did back in April that fits this request too if you want to check it out!)

It's been a pretty busy day today. Ridiculously so, in fact. You and your fellow crusaders arrived in Cairo, Iggy went off on his own and defeated a stand user, and Kakyoin made his long-anticipated return from the hospital. And maybe most importantly - you now know where Dio is.

The seven of you stand outside of Dio's mansion, staring warily at the tall front gate. You can feel your heartbeat speed up in your chest as you realize what this means: you're truly going to have to fight Dio. Maybe even today. You've been building him up in your mind as this ultimate evil, who's virtually unkillable...and now you're going to have to kill him. You take a quick breath and fold your arms over your chest.

The others seem to share your feelings. Everyone looks either anxious, frightened, or some mixture of the two. No one wants to speak, so you all just turn your gazes to Joseph, who's at the front of the group.

He turns around when he realizes there are eyes on him, and he takes a deep breath. "...We shouldn't attack today," he finally says, and you feel your whole body relax. "We'll get a hotel tonight and move tomorrow, in the early morning. So that Iggy and Kakyoin can rest." You glance down at Iggy, whose leg is wrapped in bandages. He'd taken a horrible beating from whatever stand user had been guarding Dio's lair. Kakyoin seems alright, though you haven't seen him without those sunglasses yet. You wonder if his eyes are looking okay.

"Thank you, Mr. Joestar," Avdol says, breaking you from your thoughts. "I think a night in a warm bed will do all of us some good." Jotaro nods from beside him, somehow looking even more somber than he usually does.

"Of course. I agree." Joseph begins heading in the other direction, and you follow him, walking quickly to keep up with the group's long strides. After all this time, you're still in awe of the sheer height of these guys. Joseph and Avdol are speaking in hushed voices a ways ahead of you, and Jotaro and Kakyoin are doing some catching up as they walk. Kakyoin holds Iggy gently in his arms, and Iggy seems really pissed about it, but he puts up with it for the moment; his leg probably kills. That leaves you at the rear of the formation, all caught up in your thoughts.

"How are you feeling, (Y/N)?"

Oh. Polnareff. You look up when he speaks from just behind you. "Uh... I'm trying to work that out right now." He smiles a little at your reply and falls in step beside you. He doesn't walk as quickly as everyone else; he always tries to match your pace. "I'm just glad that we're gonna do it tomorrow."

He lets out a big sigh, nodding exaggeratedly. "So am I. I can't even begin to tell you how anxious I just was. I felt like my heart was going to explode."

You laugh a little. "Yeah, me too. It really sucked." You tuck your hands into your pockets. "Now we're just putting off that feeling until tomorrow, but... Whatever. One more normal night."

"Not just normal," Polnareff interjects, and you look back at him, raising your eyebrows. "One more great night! We've got to make it a night to remember, don't you think?"

You grin now, and you've almost completely been freed from the anxiety of a few minutes ago. "Yeah. That sounds like a great idea, Polnareff." He nods his head definitively and keeps walking, and as he turns away you do as well.

You're glad that Polnareff wants to spend tonight with you. You had figured that he would; you two have gotten along really, really well on this trip. You share a lot of traits, like your sense of humor, your confidence and sometimes smugness in your fighting abilities, and your semi-often moments of stupidity. Really, you just like goofing off together.

You hope you'll be able to do that tonight, if the two of you can push through the somber cloud hanging over the whole group.

After a bit more walking, you reach a nearby hotel. You step inside and sit down on a chair near the front desk, sighing. Joseph and Avdol head over to speak to the receptionist, and everyone else huddles around your chair.

Kakyoin seems a little tired of holding Iggy, so you outstretch your arms. "Hey, I'll take him." Kakyoin smiles gratefully as he hands you the little dog, who seems to have resigned to being carried like a baby. You set him on your lap and yawn, absentmindedly petting his smooth fur. Before you've even realized what you're doing, he reaches around and nips your hand. "Shit - what was that for?!" you yelp, looking down at Iggy with wide eyes. He just shrugs (as well as a dog can) and gets comfortable again.

"I told you that dog is an asshole," Polnareff says, pointing forcefully at the innocent little Boston terrier. "A very self-aware asshole."

You glower at the smug dog sitting in your lap and nod. "Yeah. Thanks for that, asshole dog." Kakyoin laughs a little at your insult, while the dog just rolls his eyes. You know he seems to terrorize Polnareff the most for some reason, but you have a feeling it's started to come from a place of love, even if Iggy would never admit it. Just as you're about to tease Iggy about his secret friendship, Joseph and Avdol return to the group.

"This place is packed," Joseph announces, jingling the keys in his hand. "We've got three rooms. We can divvy them up however we want." Joseph makes the first move by clapping his hand on Avdol's shoulder. "I'll be staying with Muhammad here!" Avdol smiles, with just the slightest tinge of exasperation in his face at Joseph yelling in his ear, and Joseph dangles the other two room keys in front of you.

"I'm sure I can guess who you're choosing, (Y/N)," he says, a teasing smirk on his face.

You roll your eyes and snatch a key out of his hand, tucking it into your pocket. "Yeah, I'll be staying with the second best stand user here." You look up at Polnareff and grin.

He pretends to be mortally hurt by your words, clutching his heart. "Second best? You wound me." He lets out a full laugh, one that you feel in your own chest, and your smile turns into something softer. "I'm kidding. I know you think just as highly of me as I do of you."

"I could tell, dude," you say to him, laughing under your breath. "But thank you. I'm glad you think that." You lean back in your chair, looking around at everyone else.

While you and Polnareff have been playing out your dumb little rapport, the final room assignment has been established. Jotaro and Kakyoin pick up their small luggage bags and turn towards the elevator. "We're going to head up now, Mr. Joestar," Kakyoin says, smiling politely at the older man. "I want to try and get to sleep early."

"Of course." Joseph nods and starts to wave goodbye, but before he does, he stops himself. "Wait! If you don't mind, Kakyoin, would you take those sunglasses off? I want to see how your eyes are."

Kakyoin's expression drops a bit, but as Joseph starts to tell him he doesn't have to, he nods. "Sure. I haven't checked a mirror in a bit, so I honestly don't know how they look." He takes a quick breath and removes his dark sunglasses.

They honestly look alright. His eyes themselves, other than being a little red, look fine, and the only noticeable changes to his face are the light pink scars that run above and below each eye. You smile at Kakyoin, who looks nervous. "Well, it looks alright to me. How are they feeling?"

He's thankful for your words, you can tell. "They've been getting better. Looking at light was pretty hard yesterday, but today it's improved a lot." He reaches out and places his hand on Joseph's arm, who looks up at him with raised eyebrows. "It's because of you that I've recovered this well. Thank you."

Joseph smiles softly, nodding. "Of course. Now you get some sleep." Kakyoin slowly brings his hand back to his side and heads for the elevator.

Jotaro turns to follow him, but before he does, he lowers his head a bit. "I'll see you guys tomorrow," he says gruffly. He won't look any of you in the eyes.

"You as well, Jotaro. I hope you sleep well." Avdol's voice is much smoother and soothing than Jotaro's, and Jotaro seems to appreciate his tone. After you all bid him good night, he follows Kakyoin to their room.

Now it's the four adults and the asshole dog left in the lobby. "They're not gonna be able to get any sleep right now," Polnareff says, frowning. "They both look stressed out of their minds."

Joseph sighs. "At least they'll have each other." He forces the frown from his face and paints a grin onto his features. "So, what are your plans for the evening? Avdol and I are going to get things sorted in our room and then head down to the bar."

You smile when you hear that; you'd been hoping for one last drink with these three. On a couple previous hotel visits, you, Joseph, Avdol, and Polnareff had shared drinks at the hotel bar, usually until the early hours of the morning. They each get a little...different after a few drinks, in their own ways, and you're sure you do too. Either way, it's always fun. "Well I'd love to join you guys. Polnareff?"

When you look over at him, you're surprised to find his eyes already firmly set on you. He's not wearing an expression you were expecting; his eyes have a far-away quality that you don't recall seeing in him very often. He shakes himself a bit and smiles, nodding vigorously. "Of course! Yes, that would be great." He picks up his bag and slings it over his shoulder. "Should we get going, (Y/N)?"

"Yeah." You stand, lifting Iggy with you. "Who are you staying with, you rude little dog?" you ask, squinting at him. He turns his head to Avdol and lets out a little yip, which doesn't really surprise you; he's probably the only guy in this assembly of people that doesn't annoy Iggy on a daily basis. "Okay." You hand the dog over to Avdol, who takes him carefully. As you pick up your own bags, you turn to Joseph. "See you soon, alright? You too, Avdol." They both wave to you as you and Polnareff walk to the elevator to head up to your floor.

You're the only two in the elevator, somehow. You punch in the number and lean against the wall, letting go of a deep sigh. "Thanks for rooming with me." You look up at Polnareff, who looks like he's feeling alright, considering the circumstances. "(Y/N), it's really been great getting to know you on this journey. You're my best friend here - well, you're really my best friend anywhere."

Oh, wow - you blink, completely surprised by Polnareff's transparency right now. Usually you two just joke around together, and that seems to get your feelings across - but Polnareff's being completely genuine right now, and for some reason it's really doing something to your heartbeat. Polnareff takes a couple steps closer to you, and your breath catches. "I want you to know that I - "

The elevator dings loudly and you both jump, turning to the door. A few young women walk inside, laughing loudly with each other. You back into the wall a bit to make room for them, clutching the strap of your bag. One of the girls looks from you to Polnareff and then smiles widely. She starts murmuring something to Polnareff that's just soft enough to be indecipherable to you - and Polnareff's eyes widen. He looks at her and shakes his head, and when the girl's face falls, the elevator dings again and opens to your floor.

You slide past the girls and step out of the elevator, Polnareff following close behind. As you walk down the hall, you turn to look at Polnareff. "What was that about?" you ask.

Polnareff shrugs, looking sheepish. "She just wanted to know what I was doing tonight. Obviously I told her I was busy." You feel your face grow a little warm when you hear that. It's the last night before Polnareff is going off to risk his life, possibly his last night even being alive - and he turned down spending it with a beautiful girl to stay with you. You know he isn't the type to leave you like that, but the idea still makes you feel good.

You nearly run into Polnareff when he stops suddenly. "Here's our room," he says, glancing down at you and grinning. "I hope it's a nice one."

You pull the key out of your pocket and unlock the door. You both walk inside, taking a quick look around. There are two queen beds in the center of the room, and a TV sits on a little dresser against the far wall. The bathroom is just around the corner from the door. "Certainly good enough for me," you say, tossing your bag onto the bed farther from the door. As Polnareff shuts the door, you flop onto your bed and sigh. "Fuck, I'm tired."

Polnareff laughs as he sits on the other bed. "You can say that again. I've been exhausted for a week." He chuckles again, his voice slowly fading away as he leans back. "It's cozy in here."

"...Yeah, it is." The wallpaper is a warm orange color, and the sheets on your bed are pretty soft. There's a large window next to your bed that opens up and leads to a little balcony. You'll certainly spend some time out there tonight. You sit up a bit, looking over at Polnareff. "Do you think Joseph and Avdol are down there yet?"

He shrugs. "Yeah, probably. Wanna go meet them?" You nod and hop up, quickly adjusting your shirt and brushing a hand through your hair. Polnareff stands up as well and pops his head into the bathroom, eyeing his reflection. "Does my hair look alright? I didn't know if the wind had messed it up."

You smile and take a couple strides over to Polnareff, then pop up on your toes and tuck a few loose strands of hair behind his ear. "You're all good now," you say, laughing as you pat him on the cheek. He lets out a bark of laughter as you pull your hand back.

"What the hell was that?" he asks incredulously, walking to the door.

"Oh, you're just too cute, Polnareff," you answer, batting your eyelashes in the most over-the-top way you can manage. This just sends you both into a fit of giggles as you leave the room and make your way back to the elevator.

The ride down is a lot less tense than the ride up had been. You hum along to the elevator music, idly bobbing your head as you listen. Polnareff watches the numbers tick down one by one, until you reach the first floor.

It's pretty easy for you two to find the bar, and it's even easier to find Joseph and Avdol - they're easily the tallest and most muscular people in the area. You take a seat at the counter next to Avdol and pat him on the back, much like Joseph had done earlier. "Hey," you say with an easygoing smile. "What did we miss?"

"Nothing at all." Avdol slides a beer towards you, and you take it. "We just got your drinks." Polnareff takes a seat beside you and Avdol hands him another tall glass. "Do you like the hotel room?"

"Oh, it's very nice," Polnareff says. He pauses to take a swig before continuing. "I like the balcony."

Joseph nods, leaning forward so he can be seen. "It's a great hotel, I'm glad Avdol spotted it." He leans back, and the group falls silent.

You know this is just dumb small talk that's only happening so you can try and ignore the elephant in the room. You can feel yourself getting more and more anxious as Joseph, Polnareff, and Avdol keep going on about whatever they can think of - the hotel, the drinks, even the goddamn weather. You sink down lower in your seat, but before you can completely lose it, you hear the faint radio switch to a new song.

"Oh, dude!" You turn to Polnareff with a bright smile on your face. "I love this song!" He breathes out a little laugh as you start singing along. You grow gradually louder and start swaying to the beat, slinging an arm over Polnareff's shoulder and pulling him into your impromptu performance. He tries to sing along, but he clearly doesn't know the words, so he's sort of mumbling without any direction.

"You don't know the words to this? Jesus, dude, it was huge a few years back! Paul McCartney's been the king of the eighties." You let go of Polnareff and turn to face him.

He shrugs. "I don't really listen to music."

You're dumbfounded by this, and your expression reflects it. "Holy shit, Polnareff. When we're out of here you're getting introduced to the pantheon of rock."

Joseph perks up when he hears this. "I hope you'll start with the Beatles?" he says, squinting at you.

You laugh, nodding. "What kind of person would I be if I didn't?" You drink some beer and gently set down your cup. You listen as the guitars slowly fade away, and then a new song starts that you've never heard before. You think it's in Arabic. "Well..." Now that your fun little distraction has run its course, you're sort of back to square one. At least you'd made everyone smile.

"Say, Polnareff..." You all look to Joseph when he speaks. He takes off his hat and runs his prosthetic hand through his hair. "Can I talk to you for a bit? To get you started on that rock and roll education." You smile a little at that, even though it's obviously not the real reason.

"Sure." Polnareff seems to know what it's about. "I'll be back in a minute, (Y/N)." He gives you a tight-lipped smile before getting up and following Joseph out of the room.

You take Polnareff's glass and slide it over next to yours. "What do you think that's about?" you ask Avdol, who's been relatively silent for a while.

"It seems to me like Joseph's confided in Polnareff about some massive secret that's been eating at him for years. They've had a few little meetings like this before." He huffs out a laugh. "But I've got no clue what that secret is."

"Oh." Maybe Joseph wants to get it all off his chest before tomorrow, in case he - you grit your teeth. You can't get choked up now. You force yourself to drink. "How are you doing?" you ask Avdol, resting your chin in your hand and looking straight ahead. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Why would I mind? I appreciate it." You kick yourself a bit; it would only make sense that Avdol has a much better handle on his emotions than you do. "It's helped me to acknowledge that this is inevitable. It's either we fight him, or he ruins the world. It's just...a duty. It's what we have to do, because we have the powers we have."

You take a shaky breath in, nodding along slightly as he speaks. You can understand that perspective - you just wish you didn't have to. But there's no point in wishing, not this late in the game. "That makes sense," you say softly, your words muffled by your hand. "...I'm having a hard time."

He turns to you, but you can't bring yourself to look at him. "Anyone would," he says lowly. "I get it."

You steel yourself, blinking hard a few times. "Yeah. I know we're all going through the same thing right now."

He places his hand on your back, and you find your lips turning up at the gesture. "Just try to take care of yourself."

You finally look at him, and you muster a better smile. "Thanks. You too." He nods and returns your smile. As you both drink some more, a thought comes to you. "I know it's weird to think about it like this, but it's been really fun spending time with you all."

Avdol's expression brightens. "No, I agree! It's been a pleasure getting to know everyone. I know our group was thrown together under dire circumstances, but I think we've managed to make something good out of it." He's put your thoughts to words perfectly. "And... After all this, after we defeat him - just know that you'll never be alone again. We'll all be together for the rest of our lives, I know it. You'll always have friends in us."

You're suddenly struck by the urge to cry - for once, not out of abject despair. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right." You will the feeling away. "I'm actually planning on going back to New York with Joseph after this is over. I've wanted to live there all my life."

"New York?" Avdol quirks an eyebrow. "It's horribly crowded, you know."

"I don't think it's so horrible." You shrug, smiling a bit. "There's so much to do, so many new places to find... If you want, every day of your life can be a completely unique experience there." You pause. "Or so I've heard."

Avdol laughs, a rich sound that makes you laugh a little too. "Well, I hope you enjoy it there. I'll just be getting back to my business." Ah, yeah - you'd forgotten that he works right here in Cairo.

"Do you like it? Your work, that is."

"Yes." His answer comes quicker than you expected. "I think I make people happy, usually. It's not often that I have to deliver bad news. When I do... I really hate it."

"I would too." The mood's shifted into some mix of reminiscence and melancholy. You catch yourself wondering if he'll have to deliver bad news tomorrow - if he'll have to tell your family members where you've been all this time, and why you're not coming back. Jesus. You grimace; you've been fighting this thought ever since you left on this trip, but you feel the need to vocalize it.

"Hey, Avdol." He hums, glancing over at you. You shut your eyes. "I... I have a feeling we're not all getting out of this."

You hear him breathe deeply from beside you, and your frown only deepens. You slowly open your eyes, but you can't turn to face him. "You're the fortune teller. What do you think, am I right?"

You can tell he doesn't want to voice his answer, which is too telling. Finally he does. "...Yeah. I agree." Your heart drops. "I don't know who, but yes - we're not all going home tomorrow."

Your eyebrows furrow and you look down at your hands, clasping them together so tightly they hurt. Avdol is quick to speak again. "But don't let yourself give up, please. (Y/N) - if we try, we might be able to fight this." It's clear that he doesn't believe this, but you're grateful for his efforts.

"No, I won't," you reply, and you hardly feel like you're talking. "We've just got to hold on until we beat him - "

"(Y/N)!" You nearly shout when a hand lands harshly on your shoulder and a booming voice speaks your name. You whip your head around and find Polnareff grinning down at you like an idiot. "What's with the long face? Did we miss something serious?"

"Nah," you answer, watching as Polnareff sits down next to you again, and Joseph follows suit at the other end of the bar. You slide him his drink, which he gratefully accepts. "Just talking about the future."

"Hm. The future." He nods pensively. "Well, Monsieur Joestar and enjoyed a wonderful conversation about the discography of Elvis Costello." You nearly laugh at that. "But now, there's something I want to say." The three of you all look to Polnareff, who's become a bit more serious.

"You all mean so much to me. I was completely lost before I found this group - even before I was under Dio's control. It was as if all I could feel was sadness and rage, or some mix of the two. But you've all made me... Well, you've helped me to feel again." He doesn't seem very nervous, which leads you to think he's been holding on to these thoughts for a long time. "Joseph, your advice will stay with me for the rest of my life - and Avdol." He looks solemnly at the man to your left. "You've taught me so much in such a short amount of time. You'll never understand how grateful I am that you're here right now. You truly mean the world to me."

Avdol reaches out and takes Polnareff's hand, who squeezes it tightly. "Of course. It's been a delight traveling with you too, Polnareff. You've taught me a lot as well." Polnareff gives him a soft smile and lets go. As he does, he turns to you.

"(Y/N)..." You smile up at Polnareff, wondering what he might say. There's something very heroic in the way he looks right now - high above you, giving a speech that would usually be saved for the third act of an epic. He opens his mouth, and you smile a little wider. As he's about to speak, though, he's suddenly struck by a thought - and instead, he shuts his mouth and wraps his arms around you tightly.

You gasp a bit, unable to hold back your wide grin as he hugs you. You can feel your heart thumping away in your chest - you wonder if he can too. "Thank you," he whispers in your ear, "for always being with me."

"Of course," you tell him softly. "Thank you for being there for me too, Jean." He pats your back and then lets go, leaning back and beaming at you. You feel oddly exposed without his arms around you.

"With that - " He grabs his glass and raises it into the air. "I propose a toast. To our crusade and to our friendship." You pick up your glass and watch as Avdol and Joseph do the same. All at once, you clink your glasses together, laughing as Polnareff spills a bit of beer due to his enthusiasm. Once you've all finished your drinks in one long swig, you set down the empty glasses. You can't get the smile off your face.

"I'd say that was a good end to this little outing," Joseph says. "Goodnight, you guys. I'll see you tomorrow morning." He stands, and you follow suit.

"Yeah, goodnight. I hope you guys sleep alright."

Avdol nods his head. "I'm feeling pretty good, actually. I don't think sleep will be too difficult." As he speaks, he gently places his hand on your arm. "Thanks, (Y/N), for the words of reassurance."

You're pretty sure he had been the one reassuring you, but you don't saying anything. He draws his hand away and turns to Joseph. "I guess we should head back."

"What about Jotaro and Kakyoin?" You look up at Polnareff, who just brought up a point you're a little ashamed that you'd forgotten about. "We should check on them, see how they're holding up. Is that alright with you, (Y/N)?"

"Yeah, of course. It would be nice to say goodnight to them too." You crack a smile. "And maybe you can give them another one of your rousing speeches." Avdol chuckles a bit, while Polnareff's face goes red.

"W-well, anyways, we should be off. Good night, you two." Joseph and Avdol wave goodbye as you and Polnareff walk quickly to the elevator.

You share the elevator with a small, older man who looks pretty damn tired. You find yourself wondering what he's doing here - is he with his family? Away on business? Though he looks exhausted, he also keeps smiling a little to himself. You catch yourself thinking that he's a stand user, but you force that thought away. And just like that, the door opens, and he leaves. You guess he was just happy about something.

You and Polnareff get off on the next floor, which is still one below yours. You realize as you step through the doors that you forgot to ask Joseph what Jotaro and Kakyoin's room number was. "Shit," you breathe, turning and surveying the seemingly endless hallway. "I don't know which room is theirs."

Polnareff has to hold back a laugh at your expression. "Shut up," you say, punching him in the arm. "You're the one who suggested it, why the hell didn't you ask for the number?"

"Because I'm dumb! I guess we're both just dumb." You sigh, unable to keep from laughing at Polnareff's stupidly wide smile. "I suppose we can try yelling their names in the middle of the hallway until they hear us."

You nearly snort at that. "So this is what it's come to... Fine." You cup your hands around your mouth and bellow, "Jotaro! Kakyoin!" The second you do, Polnareff breaks down, folding over and absolutely dissolving into giggles. You yell again, a little louder this time. "Jotaro! Yo, guys! Kakyoin?"

The door right next you is suddenly punched, and you jump nearly a foot in the air. It seems you're disturbing the hotel patrons. You snort, leaning on the other wall and wheezing out one of the hardest laughs of your life. Polnareff grabs your shoulder and takes a shaking breath, struggling for air through his laughter. A few more people knock angrily on their doors, now annoyed with your obnoxious giggle fest in their hallway.

You suck in a deep breath and shout as loud as you can, "JOTARO!" The second the word leaves your mouth you collapse onto Polnareff, grabbing his arm as you try to stop howling with laughter. He grabs your waist to try and right you, and it nearly surprises you out of your giggles - it's quite a comforting feeling, having his hands on your waist. But the moment's over as soon as it began, and you're back to crying laughing with each other.

"Polnareff! (Y/N)! What the hell are you doing?" You both look up when you hear someone hiss at you from down the hallway. It's Kakyoin, with his head poked out of the doorway. "Just shut up and come in." You both walk over and enter his room, wiping tears from your eyes.

Their room looks just like yours. Kakyoin shuts the door behind you two and gestures for you to sit on the bed. You sit down next to Polnareff, looking around for Jotaro - he's nowhere to be found.

"He's in the shower," Kakyoin says. He sits down on the other bed and faces you. "Uh... Is there a reason you guys were screaming in the hallway?"

You snort, making Kakyoin jump. "Ah, sorry - we, uh, we didn't have your room number. So we had to resort to desperate measures." Polnareff has to hold back a laugh as well, while Kakyoin looks relatively unamused. "I'm just glad we found you. We wanted to say goodnight to you guys."

Kakyoin does smile at that. "That's nice of you. I appreciate it." You hear the shower turn off, so you figure Jotaro is done. "I... I haven't been able to get any sleep."

"I figured," Polnareff said. "This is hard to deal with. I don't know that I'll sleep much tonight either."

Kakyoin nods, playing with one of the buttons on his uniform. "Yeah." You're all silent for a few moments, until the bathroom door opens.

Jotaro steps out in a t-shirt and some pajama pants, and without his famous hat. "Looking good, Jotaro!" Polnareff calls with a grin, and Jotaro just glowers down at him.

"Hi, Jotaro," you say to make up for Polnareff's buffoonery. "So, uh..." You turn back to Kakyoin. "Was there anything you guys needed? Or did you want to do anything? We could all play cards if you want."

"I'm never playing cards again," Jotaro says from the other side of the room. "So no."

You suddenly remember when Joseph and Polnareff's souls had been trapped in poker chips, which Jotaro had to win back from the enemy stand user. Yeah, that's a good reason to never want to partake in cards again. "Ah. I get it." Jotaro sits down next to Kakyoin. "So you're all good?"

"Yes. Thanks for checking up on us." You and Polnareff both stand up.

Jotaro clears his throat. "But you don't have to treat us like little kids, assholes."

You frown. "Well shit, I wasn't trying to. I'm just worried for everyone, I guess."

Jotaro's expression eases a bit, and he nods. "Yeah. Sorry about that. I'm... I'm pretty nervous."

"Anyone would be," Polnareff says from beside you. You glance at him, and he looks a little anxious as well.

"But I'm gonna see my mom tomorrow, so it's alright." You look back to Jotaro, who has the hint of a smile on his face.

"Oh, yeah! I hope I get to meet her too, I've really wanted to."

"Yeah, I'm sure you can. She loves having people over." Jotaro shrugs. "So I guess we all just have to get through tomorrow."

You start to agree, but you suddenly remember what Avdol and you had spoken about earlier. You instead just nod your head. "Yeah." You turn to Polnareff. "Should we head back?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty tired." You both turn to the door, and Polnareff opens it.

As you leave, you turn around to look into the room one last time. "Goodnight, guys. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning." You give them a grin and a thumbs-up.

Kakyoin returns the gesture, which delights you. "Yeah. See you two tomorrow." And after one last wave goodbye, you leave and shut the door.

You get back to your room rather quickly. The first thing Polnareff does is flop face down onto his bed. He groans loudly and stretches his arms out to either side of him, nearly hitting you in the leg in the process. "Watch it," you say, narrowly dodging him and hopping onto your own bed. As Polnareff sits up, you grab your bag and cross your legs. "So what do you wanna do? Are you tired?"

He purses his lips. "Ah... No, not really. I'll go take a shower." You watch him stand and walk over to the bathroom, and then he disappears behind the door. Before he shuts it, he pokes his head out and calls, "See you in a minute." And with a grin and a silly wave, the door closes.

Now it's just you. You turn back to your bag, the remnants of a smile on your face. You feel really lucky to have Polnareff right now. He's such a bright and happy guy, and he's so fun to be around... You lean back against the wall and sigh.

You've learned a lot about Polnareff on this trip. He was open with you all from the very start, when he told you the story of his sister's death. It had broken your heart, hearing that. You tried to be nice to him when he joined the group; everyone else seemed a bit wary for a little while. Once you reached India, though, was when you became truly close. You hadn't gone with Polnareff when he broke off from the group - you weren't sure that he wanted you there - but you were with him the next day, when Hol Horse killed Avdol. Well, when you thought he had killed Avdol. You were also kept in the dark about that important little detail, which still pissed you off sometimes.

When the two of you had gotten back to the hotel after finding and killing J Geil, Polnareff had been a mess. You were both upset, of course, but Polnareff completely blamed himself for Avdol's death. You had held him that night, which was so unfamiliar; you'd never done that for someone before. But there was something about seeing Polnareff cry that filled you with utter sadness, and you knew you had to help him feel better. You needed to be there for him.

When it had happened, sure, you were a little flustered - who wouldn't be? It was an intimate position to be in with someone, but Polnareff was a close friend and you knew he needed it. As you reminisce on that emotional night, you hear Polnareff start singing in the shower. It's something in French, so you have no clue what he's saying, but he's clearly putting a lot of heart into it. You're smiling before you even realize it, and you find yourself humming along with his little ditty.

Polnareff always has the power to make you happy, no matter how you'd been feeling before. On occasion, you'd confide in him your anxieties with the trip, and the battle that faces you all at the end of it. He's always been able to calm your nerves, and usually he can make you laugh to boot. You really are lucky that you ended up with him. You honestly love being around him.

Love... Love. It's a serious word, but it really is true. He's always been there for you whenever this journey's gotten especially taxing, and you think you've been there for him too. You think you'd like to stay with him after this is over, no matter where he wants to go. You think you love him.

Suddenly, your conversation with Avdol earlier hits you like a truck. "I don't know who, but yes - we're not all going home tomorrow." You take a deep, shaking breath. You might not be going with him anywhere. You might not even see him again. As these thoughts continue, each one worse than the last, you can feel your eyes welling up with tears. You haven't cried once in these past few months, but this makes you feel completely hopeless. You can't imagine being without Polnareff.

He's still singing in the shower. You stand up and walk to the balcony, and as you make your way over, you feel like you're floating. You open the sliding door and shut it tightly; you don't want any cold air getting in. You lean up against the tall railing, looking down at the brightly-lit city. Now the tears start to fall.

You cross your arms over your chest, sobbing. It's as if this is the first time that you've truly realized what could happen tomorrow - you could die, Polnareff could die, shit, you both could die. Your heart pounds in your chest as you take another shallow, unstable breath. You could lose the one person who makes you happier than anyone else in the world. Another harsh sob wracks your body, and you sink to the floor, leaning against the door and holding your head in your hands. You feel horrible, worse than you ever have. You don't want to have to give up this new life, this new little family - the man you love.

When the door slides open behind you, you nearly scream. "(Y/N), what are you doing out here? It's freezing." You hesitantly look up at him, knowing what you must look like, and Polnareff's face instantly falls.

"Sorry," you say almost reflexively. You feel the need to explain yourself. "I-I just - "

Before you can finish, Polnareff crouches down and pulls you into a tight, almost crushing hug. Your breath catches in your throat and you can only let tears stream down your face. "Ne pleure pas," he murmurs, and you're too caught up in everything to ask what that means. "Please." You hiccup and wince, trying to keep yourself from sobbing again. It feels so, so right being in his arms - but this might be the last time you ever get to feel it.

"Can I help you up?" he asks you softly. "We should go inside. It's too damn cold out here." You nod shakily, and you let him take your hands and pull you gently to your feet; he does it like it's nothing. Not letting go of your hand, he opens the door and leads you inside. He shuts it as you sit down on the bed.

You can't bring yourself to look at him; you think if you get a good look at his face you'll utterly break down. He sits down next to you and wraps his arm over your arms, and you cry a little harder at how tenderly his fingers rest on your shoulder. "I think I know what's wrong," he starts, almost cautiously, "but do you want to talk about it? You know I want to listen."

I love you. "...It's just everything." You're not lying, technically. "I-I'm sorry, I've never done this before but I -"

"Stop apologizing," he tells you, his voice firmer than it had been before. You finally chance a look at him, and his expression nearly knocks the breath out of you. He cares deeply for you, you can see it in his eyes - if you're being honest with yourself, it's an expression that's clearly rooted in love. You try to shove the thought away but you can't. It almost hurts you to see him so invested in you. "Remember back in India? When we thought Avdol was dead? I cried, God, I cried so much - and you were there for me the whole time. You helped me so, so much. What kind of man would I be if I didn't do the same for you?" He leans back in and hugs you again, catching you off guard. You hesitantly wrap your shaking hands around his broad shoulders, leaning your head into the crook of his neck.

He speaks, and you feel his voice all through your body. "I know how you feel," he says softly. "Trust me, I do. I'm fucking terrified. I can't begin to describe how scared I am of losing you." You've nearly run out of tears to cry at this point, but his admittance makes you hold back a sob. "I swear to you - I will do everything in my power tomorrow to keep you safe. I'll protect you with everything I have, (Y/N). Tomorrow... Silver Chariot is yours."

"That's not what I want," you say quickly, surprised by the hollowness of your voice. He pauses, and while you can't see his expression, you're sure he's confused. "I just need you to live, Jean. I need - I need us to be together after this is over." You hardly realize what you've said until the words leave your lips. "With everyone. I can't lose you guys."

He doesn't seem completely convinced by the last words you tacked on to your statement. "Yes, alright... We'll protect each other. We'll stay together and we won't let anything happen. Okay?"

You sniff, thinking suddenly of all the tears you must have gotten on Polnareff's shirt. "...Yeah. Yeah, I'll be there for you no matter what happens." I love you.

He nods against you, and you let go of a shaky sigh. "Good. Good, (Y/N). I won't let anything happen to you." It's a promise he can't keep, but for some reason it makes you feel better hearing it. You think you might finally be done crying. "Do you want to try and get some sleep?" he asks gently.

"Yeah, I - I just have to change." You carefully untangle yourself from Polnareff's arms and stand up, feeling horribly nervous. You grab your bag and quickly shut yourself in the bathroom.

You can't get yourself to breathe evenly. You lean against the wall, trying to avoid your reflection in the mirror. You really hadn't meant for that to happen. You had planned on keeping it together tonight, on not making anything weird - but you fucked it up. You pull your pajamas - an old band t-shirt and a pair of sweats - out of your bag and set them on the counter with shaking hands. Maybe you should take a minute for yourself in here.

As you change, you think about what just happened. Polnareff had essentially done for you what you had done for him all those weeks ago, when you shared the room after Avdol's death. There's something so right about being in each other's arms, for both of you it seems. You wonder if he feels for you how you feel for him.

You're not sure if you want him to. That thought might even be scarier than him not reciprocating your feelings, because if he dies and you know that he loved you, you just might lose it. Every time you think about the potential of dying, a dull pain begins to thud away in your head and you feel your breath get shorter and shallower. You throw your dirty clothes into your bag and grip the counter tightly with both hands, staring into the mirror.

You look like a wreck. It's written on your face that you've been crying nonstop for the past half an hour. You force yourself to even out your breathing, and then you wipe your eyes rather aggressively. After one last look in the mirror (which really doesn't help), you pick up your bag and leave the tiny, stifling room.

Polnareff is sitting where you left him. "Hey," you say quietly. He turns to you and smiles a little as you set down your stuff on the ground. "Well, I'm ready to go to bed. Are you?"

"Yeah. I'm falling asleep a little already." He gives a clearly exaggerated yawn, and you laugh shortly at his efforts. He stands up, pulling the covers back on his bed. You watch him, expecting him to climb in and bid you goodnight, but he doesn't move.

"...(Y/N)?" he says, a little hesitantly. You raise your eyebrows. "...I - " He huffs out a laugh, and you frown. "You're really going to make me ask?" It's clear that you're still not getting it. He smiles softly. "Would you like to share the bed?"

"Oh!" Your eyes widen, and you smile a little nervously. "I, uh... Yeah. Sure." Polnareff lays down on the bed and you follow him, grimacing as you clumsily elbow Polnareff in the arm. Polnareff's laugh wipes the frown right from your face, though.

After a silent, weird moment of laying on your backs together, staring up at the ceiling, you both turn inwards and face each other. "I won't go back on my word, okay?" Polnareff whispers, reaching out and taking your hand. You nearly shiver at the contact. "I'll stay alive for you, so we can be together after all this. It's all I want."

"Me too. I'll protect you, and I - I'll do everything I can to stay alive." The words sound a little hollow coming from you because you're not sure if you can believe them, but Polnareff still smiles in appreciation.

"Good night, (Y/N). I'll see you tomorrow." The word "tomorrow" grips your heart and makes your breath catch in your throat, but you try not to think about it. It's just another day. It's just another day, and you're going to see thousands of more days after it. You and Polnareff, together.

You give him a slight nod and turn around, and Polnareff wraps his arms tightly around you. You hold his hands against your midsection, sighing as you feel him rest his head next to your shoulder. You shut your eyes, and it takes you a second to realize you're crying again. You suppose you'd been waiting to be out of his line of sight. As the tears stream down your face, though, you stay silent - you don't want to jeopardize this lovely, loving feeling. His arms around you are like heaven. Every time his breath tickles your ear you want to cry harder. You're feeling too much, love and grief and fear and passion, all at once and it hurts more than you could ever imagine. I love you.

He mumbles something that you can't quite understand in a half-asleep daze, and you nearly melt when he snuggles closer to you. You want so badly to verbalize your thoughts and tell him how much he means to you, but you can't - you can't bear to lose him tomorrow, or to die and leave him alone after spending only one night together, when it should've been every night. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you... You repeat it in your head like a mantra as you slowly drift to sleep.

---

You wake up alone. When you realize it, you're stricken with panic, but as you sit up, you catch a glance of Polnareff slipping into the bathroom. You lean your head back against the wall and sigh, shutting your eyes. It's here.

Polnarff looks over at you from the bathroom and smiles. "Good morning," he calls, as he messes with his hair.

"Morning," you answer groggily, rubbing your eyes. "How long have you been awake...?"

"About an hour. I thought I'd let you sleep." He turns away and starts attacking his hair with hairspray, and you smile. It was a thoughtful little thing he said, and it makes you feel cared for.

"Thanks." You look over at the clock and see that it's 8:30. "They want to meet at 9, right?"

"Yeah."

You nod and force yourself to get out of bed, wincing as your joints crack. "I'm gonna change in here, Polnareff. Close the door." He looks over at you and nods, reaching out and closing the bathroom door. "Thanks," you call as you take out your clothes.

You get dressed and then pack away what other things you have. You really hadn't brought anything on this trip. You throw your bag over your shoulders and sit on your bed, kicking your legs back and forth. After a few minutes, the bathroom door opens and Polnareff steps out, clad in his usual outfit.

"Hey." You look at the clock again. "You know, we've still got twenty minutes. Do you wanna grab some coffee?"

"That sounds great." He picks up his bag, which he's already packed, and you both say goodbye to your little hotel room.

The elevator is empty, as it's still a little early for people to be out and about. You listen to the elevator music as you lean against the back wall, looking at your distorted reflection in the metal door. "(Y/N)," Polnareff says, and you look over at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," you answer quickly. You don't quite know if you actually are feeling more at peace with your situation, or if you've just gotten over the urge to cry. "Thank you again for last night. I'm sorry I -" You catch yourself apologizing and stop before Polnareff can say anything. "Thank you."

"Of course." He moves his arm towards you, and he hesitates for a moment before gently hugging you. You hug him back, resting your head on his chest. "Just remember what we said. We'll both be fine."

"I will," you promise, and you think you might mean it. The elevator dings, and you both pull away as the door opens to reveal the main floor. "There's gotta be a coffee place right outside, don't you think?"

"Probably." You both head outside and survey the area, searching for any sign of a coffee shop. "Oh! There's one." Polnareff grabs your hand and pulls you over to a small store a few buildings down. You smile as you follow him, holding tightly onto his hand. It's so warm - he's always so warm.

Once you reach the store, you head up to the counter. "Uh..." There's an English translation of the menu in small print on the back wall, and you squint at it as you decide what to get. "One large iced coffee, please."

"Iced coffee?!" Polnareff looks down at you in surprise. "You drink that stuff?"

"Why not? It's really good." You pull out your wallet and grab the appropriate payment, making sure to check twice - you don't know the currency very well. "Have you ever had it?"

"No. I drink hot coffee like everyone else." You roll your eyes as you pay, and then you move over so Polnareff can order.

"I swear it's really good, dude. You should get some!" Polnareff frowns, and you laugh. "You know, I read somewhere that the French invented iced coffee. I don't want to see you betraying your homeland."

He pouts, and begrudgingly he turns to the cashier. "One large hot coffee, and one large iced coffee." After he pays, he joins you at the counter. "If the French made it I'm sure it's alright, at least. But if I hate it, you can have the rest of mine."

"Oh, thanks! But I think you'll like it." You both stand and wait for your drinks, listening to the faint radio playing in the store. It's jazz - it fits the little shop.

After a few minutes, your orders are both finished. You put some cream and sugar into your coffee and stir it with your straw. "How do you take your coffee?" you ask Polnareff. "I don't think I've ever noticed."

"Lots of cream and sugar." He proves his point by dumping a shocking amount of sugar into both of his drinks. He does the same with the cream. "I like sweet things."

You grab a table next to a window and sit down, setting your drink in front of you. You take a sip and smile; it's some of the best coffee you've ever had. "It's the moment of truth," Polnareff mutters, eyeing his cold beverage with raised eyebrows.

"It's not gonna kill you. Try it!" He nods, taking a deep breath, and quickly he takes a large swig of the iced coffee.

You can't tell immediately what he thinks of it. He sets down the cup and hums, then sighs. "You're right. It tastes great."

You laugh, putting your hand in the air for a high-five. "I knew it!" He high-fives you, but he doesn't look very happy about it. "I knew you would like it."

"I can't even try to deny it. It's really good." You laugh again at his little admission and drink your own coffee. "Do you want the hot coffee too? You seem a little tired."

"Uh..." You are feeling a little sluggish, and your brain is using up a lot of energy to push all your existential feelings of dread to the back of your mind. "Yeah, if you don't mind."

"Of course not! Here you go." He slides it to you and you take it.

After a few more minutes, you've both finished your heavenly iced beverages. "They're expecting us in...five minutes," Polnareff murmurs, checking his watch. "You ready?" You nod and grab your second coffee, and you head out the door.

You're glad you made that little stop, and you're glad you were the person to introduce Polnareff to the wonders of iced coffee. You'd been afraid that once you reached today, everything would be over - you would be completely consumed by your nerves. But that doesn't seem to be the case. At least you've made one last good memory with Polnareff before you confront Dio.

You reenter the hotel and find everyone standing in the lobby. "Where were you guys?" Avdol asks.

You raise your cup of coffee. "Just went for a morning pick-me-up," you reply, smiling. Kakyoin rolls his eyes at that. "Are you guys all ready?"

Everyone nods. The mood is somber among you all, which is obviously expected - but it doesn't make it any easier to face. You don't really know what to say to break up this oppressive atmosphere, but luckily Joseph speaks for you. "Then let's head out. We've got a long day ahead of us."

And with that, you're off. Joseph leads your ragtag group out of the hotel and down the streets of Cairo. It feels a lot like your walk yesterday - with Joseph and Avdol discussing game plans in the front, Jotaro and Kakyoin talking about more casual topics with Iggy beside them, and you and Polnareff at the back. You feel a little better now, somehow. You might even be letting yourself hope that everything will be alright. You reach out and brush your pinkie against Polnareff's hand, not turning to him. He gets the message instantly and wraps his larger hand around yours. It's sweet and comforting and so full of love, and you never want to let go. You won't let go, until you've killed Dio.

---

The mansion would be pitch black if not for Avdol's strong flames illuminating the hallways. It's only you, Polnareff, Avdol, and Iggy now; the other three crusaders had fallen into some sort of trap placed by Terence D'Arby, Dio's butler. He looked like an asshole. You hope they're doing alright.

You walk carefully, making sure to take a good look around before every step. Polnareff is beside you, being just as cautious, and Iggy and Avdol are in front of you two. Avdol leads the way with the compass of sorts he's created, which can sense the movement of any stand or human. "See anything, Avdol?" Polnareff whispers, and Avdol just shakes his head.

Thankfully, the mansion isn't as large as it looks. You'd encountered a little guy earlier whose stand had been creating an illusion throughout this main floor that made it much more complex than it truly is; after you pummeled him, the area shifted into a much more manageable space. Still, though, you're scared out of your mind of what you might uncover in each dark corner. You're not holding Polnareff's hand anymore, but it really feels like you are - you can tell he's looking out for you from the way he leans towards you with every step.

A few more minutes pass, and you finally encounter something new. It's a large column with seemingly no purpose. Avdol brings his flame closer to the pillar to get a good look at it, and as he does, you can vaguely make out words etched into the stone surface. Avdol leans in to read them, and you go to do the same, but suddenly Avdol whips around and grabs you by the arm.

You frown, trying to shrug your arm out of his grasp. "What is it?" you ask, but Avdol's frantic expression tells you all you need to know - it's not good. "Seriously, Avdol, tell me - "

His eyes shift to Polnareff, who's about to step right behind Avdol and adjacent to the pillar. "Polnareff, watch out!" Avdol screams, letting go of your arm and shoving you away. As you stumble back, completely confused, Avdol grabs Polnareff and pushes him harshly towards you. "Just stay back," he breathes, turning and looking pointedly at you, "and you'll be - "

It happens before you can even comprehend it. In the blink of an eye, Avdol vanishes, and you hear a loud thud. Your head whips downwards and you gasp loudly when you see his arms lying motionless on the ground, detached from his body. You feel yourself start to shake as you turn to Polnareff, who's equally shocked. "Fuck," he breathes, falling back into the wall behind him. "Avdol!" he shouts, clearly desperate. "Avdol, where are you?!"

Instead of getting an answer, you're only horrified further when Avdol's arms are lifted into the air and seemingly swallowed by nothing. As you watch, mortified, a figure slowly fades into view; it's some sort of floating being with no legs and an impossibly large stomach. You stare at it, unable to move, until Polnareff's frantic voice breaks you from your shock.

"What the hell did you do to Avdol?" he screams, summoning his stand at once. You blink and do the same - you were so caught up in whatever the hell you've just witnessed that you forgot to get your stand.

A voice echoes from deep within the stand in front of you. "I placed him in the void."

He doesn't explain. He just states that, as if it makes any sense. "What - what the fuck is that? Where is he?" you breathe, your voice shaking.

"Not even I know where the things my stand swallows go," the voice replies. "Who's to say where he is? He's certainly not on Earth any longer. Wherever he is, I'm sure he's dead."

You can't take a full breath. "I..." You hear Iggy take a shuddering breath from beside you, and you look down at him with wide eyes. He looks totally stunned; he's clearly in shock. You somehow manage to steel yourself, and in a flurry you prepare to attack. Your stand has long-ranged attacks - as the Knight of Cups, it shoots powerful arrows from a far distance. Your stand pulls out an arrow and shoots instantly at the stand, but before it can hit, the stand opens its gaping mouth and swallows the arrow just as it's about to pierce its eye.

"Fuck," you mutter, and you back further into the wall. Tears are forming quickly in your eyes. "Polnareff, what do I -"

When you hear Polnareff sob, you turn to him. He's sunk to the ground, shaking with tears streaming down his face. Iggy still hasn't moved; he still can't believe it. You drop to your knees and place your hands on Polnareff's shoulders, trying to spit out some comforting words in the haze of your mind, but before you can, the wall behind you is smashed and breaks into pieces.

A couple small pieces of concrete fall on you, but you hardly even feel it. Had the stand - can it make itself invisible? You hadn't seen it hit the wall, shit, you hadn't seen anything. You're totally at a loss here. "We've gotta go, Polnareff," you tell him, urgently pulling on his arm. Still beside himself, he stands up with you and stares at the large hole in the wall. "I - I don't know how he -" Your voice cuts off and is replaced by something between a cough and a sob. "He's - he's probably going to Dio. We have to..." You can't force the words out - it's your worst fear. You know it's what you have to do, though. "Follow him. We have to follow him up. " You grab Polnareff's hand and hold it so tightly it must hurt, and you drag him along. Your heart is pounding non-stop in your chest, and sharp pain is starting to spread all throughout your body. You can't believe that Avdol is gone - really, this time. You're not sure if you've even fully realized it yet.

You don't even wipe the tears from your face as you sprint up the stairs, with Polnareff and Iggy hot on your heels. You keep stumbling, but every time you manage to push yourself through it and scale another two steps. Your brain is on autopilot now - you know if you don't move quickly, and move right, you're going to die. Once you've reached what you're pretty sure is the third floor, you spot a large, circular hole in the wall that's nearly identical to the one the stand had left downstairs. You skid to a stop, and Polnareff runs into you and nearly knocks you to the ground. He manages to catch you, and you both stand and stare at the large hole, trying desperately to catch your breath.

Polnareff's hands leave your sides and he walks slowly towards the hole. It seems to lead into a large ballroom. "Shh," he hisses at you, and you nod, creeping towards him. Iggy walks beside you, just as quiet. You both step through the hole, then you lift Iggy through and place him on the ground next to you. The room is large and beautiful; the walls are lined with intricate designs, and a large window covered by a thick curtain is on the far wall.

"Where the fuck is he?" you breathe, taking a few steps into the room. It's totally empty. "Where's Dio?"

"I have already consulted Dio." You scream when a voice echoes from behind you, and you stumble before turning around. A large, impossibly muscular man stands before you three, with long brown hair and a stony expression. "He has granted me the privilege of killing you all. He gifted me, Vanilla Ice, his blood and this opportunity." You feel horribly sick to your stomach when Vanilla Ice's face twists with pride. "You'll go first. You dared to try and attack me."

You summon your stand, but before you can make another move, Polnareff pushes you to the side. You stumble back, and you watch in horror as Polnareff takes out his stand and points Silver Chariot's sword directly at Vanilla Ice. "You'll have to get through me first," he spits, voice full of venom, but Vanilla Ice just laughs.

"Alright." He leaps into the air, and suddenly his stand reappears; it seems to swallow him up before vanishing again.

You run to Polnareff, grabbing his arm and pulling him down to the ground. "Fuck, Jean, you didn't - why did you do that?" you hiss. "If he wants to fight me, let him -"

"No." His voice is firm, and it shocks you; there's a new determination in his eyes that you hadn't expected to see. "I won't let him kill you, (Y/N)."

Suddenly, Iggy barks, jolting both of you out of your conversation. You hop up and run over to him. "What is it?" you ask, crouching down in front of him.

He runs over to a large curtain beside a staircase on the other side of the room, and you and Polnareff follow. You both lean against the side of the stairs and cover yourselves with the curtian. "What the fuck are you doing, Iggy?" Polnareff whispers, watching the dog.

Iggy summons his stand, and instantly sand starts to swirl around the room. You watch as it all comes together and begins to take the shape of a man; as you keep watching, it eventually turns into an exact replica of Dio. "Shit," you breathe. "Nice thinking. He's not still in here, is he? Did he see that?"

"There's no way to tell," Polnareff murmurs back. "We just have to wait -"

"Lord Dio!" Vanilla Ice materializes once again at the other end of the room. He rushes to the sand statue and drops to the ground, bowing deeply. "What are you doing here?" he says to the ground. "You should be in your study."

"I grew tired of waiting," the statue replies, and your eyes widen; Iggy's stand is a lot more powerful than you thought. "Are they dead yet?"

"No, my lord," Vanilla Ice replies. "I apologize. They will be dead soon." He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and stands. "I thank you for the gift you've given me, Lord Dio," he sighs, taking the statue's hand and caressing it. "Your blood gives me more and more strength by the minute. With your blood flowing through my veins, I'll kill them without having to lift a finger." He lets go of the sand statue and turns around, scoping out the room. "I just have to find them."

Iggy slowly raises the statue's hand into the air, so he can strike down right at Vanilla Ice's neck. Finally, after a few agonizing seconds, his hand is fully raised. Just as he brings it down, though, Vanilla Ice turns around and smacks it. It, and the rest of Dio's body, dissolves into sand and blows away.

"You must think me an imbecile," he shouts, eyes wide in a crazed rage. "Lord Dio would never set foot in this room, you idiots. It has a window." Fuck - you all had forgotten. "You'll pay for this, scum. You've insulted Lord Dio in the most unforgivable way. He is too mighty to ever be represented by your filthy false icon." Your heart drops into your stomach, and you try as hard as you can to remain still. Iggy had taken some damage from Vanilla Ice's strike, it seems, so you dive down quickly and pick him up. The motion doesn't seem to alert him, thank God.

He disappears once again, and before you can blink a hole appears in the wall right next to you. You shriek, falling back into Polnareff, and the three of you all hit the ground hard. You try to scramble away - you know another attack is coming soon - but before you can get out from behind the curtain, an impossibly fast force runs straight through your leg.

You scream as a chunk of your leg is ripped straight off and blood immediately pours from the wound. You reach down and grab at it, sobbing, but nothing you do relieves the searing pain that spreads all throughout your body. Polnareff freezes, stunned, but not a moment later he lunges towards you and crouches down. "Fuck, (Y/N), you'll - you'll be fine," he mutters, grabbing the curtains and tearing off a large piece. "Let me - let me tie it, and then you'll..." He wraps the curtain around your wound and knots it, pulling the curtain tight, and the pressure makes your head spin.

Your head lolls back and you feel yourself nearly slip from consciousness, but before you do Iggy quickly forms a hand from sand and smacks you in the face. "Fuck!" you shout, grabbing your cheek, but you quickly shake yourself and snap back to reality. "Thank you."

"Can you stand?" Polnareff asks you quickly, stretching out his arms. "Let me help you." You steel yourself and take his hands, and he gently pulls up up onto your feet. It hurts more than anything you've ever felt, but - you can hold yourself up just barely. You limp a few steps away from the wall, and Polnareff reaches out and wraps his arm around your shoulders. "Fuck, be careful! Don't fall." Suddenly, another smash echoes through the room, and you swallow back a scream.

It's the spherical shape again, but this time it's moving; it carves a path into the perimeter of the wall and just keeps going, until it hits the corner of the room and jerks in the other direction. It seems to be outlining the room. "What the fuck is he doing...?" you breathe, watching as the grooves in the ground continue down the next wall.

It hits another corner and spins around to the next wall. It's getting the perimeter of the room, but why...? Suddenly, you realize what he's doing. "He can't see in there," you say softly. Polnareff and Iggy both look to you, confused. "He can't see. Everything he's done so far has been blind shots. Now, he's just - he's covering the entire room from the outside and in to the middle. If he does that he's gonna hit us eventually."

The second you finish talking, you hear Polnareff scream from beside you. It seems that the stand had managed to sneak up on you; he'd moved just an inch in closer to the middle, and it caught Polnareff. You grab him, righting him. "What happened?" you ask, running your eyes over his body to see where he was hit. He lifts up his right hand, shaking, and two of his fingers are gone.

You feel like throwing up. "Iggy, can you get more of that curtain?" you ask, your voice high-pitched with anxiety. He nods and runs over, ripping off a large piece with his teeth. You take it from him and start to wrap up Polnareff's hand, which is gushing blood. He grits his teeth and hisses as you tie it up. "You'll be fine, I've got you. We'll figure this out, I swear -"

"Just get to the middle," Polnareff manages to say, and you nod hurriedly. You yank him over to the center of the room and you hold back a scream when pain shoots up through your leg. "Sit down," he tells you, and you let yourself hit the ground with a dull 'thud.' "What the fuck are we gonna do? How do we escape this?" The sound of Vanilla Ice carving up the floor is getting louder and louder. Iggy joins you two and watches as the invisible sphere spins round and round, revolving like the moon around you helpless three.

Polnareff suddenly sits up, and it's clear he has an idea. "We've gotta get out of this room," he says, grabbing your hand and gesturing for Iggy to hop up onto his shoulder. "I'll get us out of here. Just hold on and we'll get out through the window. Iggy, can you make some kind of cushion if we jump?" The dog yips in a way that sounds affirmative. "Good. Get ready." Polnareff stands, pulling you up with him, and he makes for the window.

Vanilla Ice is blind right now, you're sure of it - but it seems he can hear. The sphere swerves without warning and collides with Polnareff's left leg, and nearly all of his calf is torn off of him. He falls instantly, but just as quickly he tries to stand - and finds that he can't. With you and Iggy, he can't force himself up. "Polnareff!" you cry, reaching out and pulling him back towards the middle. "Just - we can get back. If we get back to the middle we'll have time to think." The three of you, all injured in some way, manage to push yourselves back to the middle of the room.

Vanilla Ice is nearly at the center now. You've been crying since you first encountered, but this is the first time since Avdol died that you're really conscious of the tears streaming down your face. You look at Polnareff, who's choking back sobs. "This is - fuck, this wasn't what was supposed to happen," you whisper, reaching out and holding his uninjured hand. "I can't move. I - I can't do anything, I -"

"You're not dying," Polnareff nearly yells at you, and you're so surprised that you stop crying. "I'm not letting you go, (Y/N)."

"How? We can't move, Polnareff. We're stuck here and we're fucked, he's gonna -" You've been staring at Polnareff, but for a second you glance behind him and you see the ground cave in just before the two of you. You shut your eyes and hug him, burying your face in his chest, but just as it's about to hit -

You're launched into the air - you have no idea by what. Your eyes snap open, and you turn your head; Iggy remains on the ground, breathing heavily, and Vanilla Ice stands before him looking utterly confused. Slowly, his gaze turns upwards, and you and Polnareff are dropped unceremoniously on the ground by Iggy's stand.

You cry out when your head thuds against the ground and you land hard on your right wrist - you think it's broken. You grind your teeth together as you try to sit up, just barely pushing yourself up against the wall. It seems Polnareff had landed a bit more gracefully, and he tries to crawl over to Iggy - but Vanilla Ice beats him. He snatches Iggy up by the neck and throws him, as hard as he can, into the wall.

You're fucking enraged. You watch, unable to do much else, as Vanilla Ice kicks Iggy hard in the stomach. Polnareff swears beside you, and you watch as he manages to pull himself to his knees. He turns around and meets your eyes, then looks to Vanilla Ice. He's planning something.

Polnareff silently walks on his knees to Vanilla Ice, and as he does he summons Silver Chariot. He's in the perfect position to stab him in the head, but you both know the stab alone wouldn't be enough. You get your own stand and conjure up the most powerful arrow you can muster. As Iggy's cries echo throughout the room, you let the arrow shoot directly into the back of Vanilla Ice's head, and you fall back. It had taken everything just to do that. Your vision is swimming, and you can't even force yourself to sit up and see what's happened to Polnareff and Iggy. Despite your best efforts, your eyes slide shut, and you pass out.

---

You slowly fade back into consciousness, and the first thing you notice is that you're in motion. You crane your neck to get a better look at your surroundings, trying to ignore the screaming pain all throughout your body, and you're clearly outside now - all the buildings and the stars soaring past your vision is making you horribly dizzy. You groan, shutting your eyes, and suddenly the vehicle you're on stops. You lurch forward and nearly vomit.

"(Y/N), you're awake!" You blink when Polnareff shouts loudly in your ear. He picks you up and grins down at you, and it's clear he's been crying more. "Fuck, I was so scared. I thought you died."

"...Can't get rid of me that easy," you rasp, surprised by how dry your throat is. He nearly laughs, and gently he sets you down.

"I'm glad you're okay, (Y/N)," you hear someone else say, and you turn. It's Jotaro, and thankfully he looks unharmed. "You look like shit."

"I feel like shit."

He nods - fair enough - and turns to Polnareff. "Stay here with (Y/N), I won't be long." He starts to leave, but Polnareff reaches out and grabs his hand before he can go.

"You're sure you won't need me?" he asks, frowning. "You have no idea what he's capable of."

"You're in no condition to help anybody," Jotaro replies, shrugging Polnareff's hand away. "Just stay safe and keep (Y/N) safe. You're both too badly hurt to do anything but that." And with that, he leaves you and Polnareff alone in a dark, silent alley.

You've got a bit of a view of the street from here, and you can see Jotaro walking down the sidewalk with clear purpose. This is everything he's been waiting for - the chance to save his mother. You can tell he's eager for it to be over. "Well..." You look to Polnareff, who sits down beside you and takes your hand. "We did it. We're both still alive." You think back to Avdol, and guilt rushes through you; you never could've expected that he had been referring to himself with his premonition last night. You try not to cry as you slightly adjust yourself. You can't get comfortable, no matter how hard you try. Everything hurts too much. "Hey..." You realize suddenly that you're missing someone. "Where's Iggy?" You figure Polnareff had managed to get him out of Vanilla Ice's line of fire with that last shot by Silver Chariot.

Polnareff's face drops, and your expression falls. "He... He didn't make it. It was a second too late." You turn away from Polnareff and cover your face with your hands, trying not to scream. He's just a dog, he - God, he hadn't deserved any of this.

"He should be here," you murmur into your palms. "Avdol should be here right now, sitting with us." As you speak, Polnareff leans against you, and you feel his tears drip onto your arms. You shut your eyes and rest your head against his shoulder. You're too tired to even open your eyes. You drift back out of consciousness while Polnareff cries silently beside you.

A motion from next to you is what stirs you, and you open your eyes. Polnareff is trying to get up, but he's clearly having a hard time. "Where are you going...?" you mumble as he finally gets to his feet. He looks down at you and his eyes widen; was he trying to sneak away...?

"I have to go, (Y/N), please." Go where? Polnareff glances back at the entrance of the alley, and you look as well. You gasp when you see Jotaro lying motionless on the ground, and what must be Dio looming over him with a road sign in his hand. "He's about to die, and I have to do something."

You know he's right, and you fucking hate it. "No," you say softly, reaching out and taking his hands. "Don't. You'll die, Jean, I know you will, you have to stay with me." You've fully gained consciousness now, and your mind is absolutely screaming. You thought you'd done it. You thought you'd leave here with him and be with him for the rest of your life. He can't go and you can't lose him. It's getting harder to breathe.

"Non," he replies gently, crouching down. He seems much more at peace with this than you are. "S'il te plaît, ne sois pas fâché," he murmurs, and he leans in and kisses you.

You reach out and wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. His lips are soft and he's gentle as he presses them to yours, reaching up and running a hand through your hair. After a moment of taking each other in, reveling in your closeness, you part. You feel indescribably empty. "I'll be back with Jotaro," he says, and he presses a kiss to your forehead before walking away and leaving you alone. Completely alone.

You try to follow him, try to pull yourself up or even drag yourself out from the alley - but nothing works. You push yourself back up against the wall and let out a gut-wrenching sob, covering your mouth to muffle the noise as best as you can. You can't stop shaking, and you can't stop feeling the lingering touch of Polnareff's lips on yours. You love him. You love him and you need him like you've never needed anyone before, and you're about to lose him. He kissed you and he left you. You pull your knees up to your chest and sob until you can't anymore, and once again fatigue grips you and pulls you under.

---

When you wake up this time, you're alone. There's no one to reassure you, to fill you in on what's happened - you're alone in a hospital bed, with only the beeping of the various machines to give you company. You crane your neck to the door and see that it's open; you consider calling for someone, but instead you just lay your head back on the pillow beneath you. You feel so much better than you had the last time you were awake; it seems like they've done a good job of patching you up. Curiously you reach down and poke your leg, where you'd been hit, and other than the jolt of pain at the touch it feels relatively normal. You push yourself up a bit so you're leaning against the wall, and you clasp your hands and set them on your lap.

Is Polnareff dead? The question is like a smack to the face. You suck in a deep breath and shakily release it, swearing to yourself that you won't cry. You've done too much fucking crying.

THere's no way he survived a face-off with Dio, just no way. He had already been beat up; even at his best he wouldn't be able to stand a chance alone. You grip your hands together so tightly they start to hurt, but you can't stop. It's a distraction from all the horrifying images your brain is conjuring up, of Avdol's arms lying alone on the cold ground, of Iggy being kicked and punched over and over and over, of Polnareff walking away and leaving you to watch him die -

"(Y/N)!" You look to the door when you hear your name called, and you nearly burst into tears at the sight of Joseph's grinning face. He bounds into the room, which surprises you; he's covered in bandages. "Oh my God, I'm so glad you're alright. How are you feeling?"

"Okay, I guess." You lift up your hand and look at your wrist, which is wrapped in a cast. "Yeah. I feel a lot better." Joseph reaches out and places his prosthetic hand delicately over yours, and you can't express how much you appreciate it. "...What did I miss?"

He looks up at you and frowns, and you elaborate. "I was really out of it. Last I remember I was..." You're afraid to mention Polnareff; that might spur Joseph to deliver the bad news. "I was watching Jotaro fight Dio. I thought Jotaro was dead."

"He was pretending to be dead, actually. Used Star Platinum to stop his own heart." Your eyes widen, and Joseph nods knowingly. "I have the most impressive grandson, don't I?"

"Yeah, you do. Holy shit." You'd all made monumental sacrifices in this fight, it seems. "So... He beat Dio?"

"Yes. I nearly died, too, when Dio drank my blood, but Jotaro had the bright idea of performing a blood transfusion once Dio was dead. He truly saved my ass in every way."

"Wow. We're really lucky we had him."

Joseph's gaze flits down to his hand over yours, resting on the bed. "I'm assuming... I'm guessing you know about Iggy and Avdol."

Your throat tightens, and you nod. "Yeah. I saw it." You can't stop thinking about it, honestly. Even while talking to Joseph your mind is running a slideshow of every horrific thing you witnessed.

"I'm sorry." He takes your other hand, surprising you, and holds it tenderly. "Avdol was a good man, and a dear, dear friend, and I'm going to miss him. He deserves to be here with us."

"It's not fair," you say in an exhale, and you nod your head in agreement with Joseph. After a long moment of silence between the two of you, in which you both think about everything you loved Avdol for, you look up. You have to ask the question, no matter how much you're dreading it. "How's everyone else...?"

Joseph meets your gaze, which is somewhat relieving. "Polnareff is fine. He was in rough shape when they brought him in, but he'll definitely be alright."

You fall forward a bit, letting go of your breath. Joseph smiles a bit and puts his arm on your shoulder as you grin at him. "Thank God," you say, not really to Joseph but just to the world. "Holy shit, I was so terrified. So he's fine?"

"He's been sleeping for most of the day, but he woke up once to ask how you were and then passed right out again." You laugh out loud, leaning back, and Joseph watches you with an easy smile on his face. "Please tell me he told you."

You smile. "He did, but I kind of figured anyway."

"Kind of? Jesus." He laughs shortly, and then his smile fades a bit.

"So what about Kakyoin?" you ask, running a hand through your hair. "What's up with him?"

Joseph's expression is like a shot to the heart, and before you know what you're doing you grab him and wrap your arms around him. You rest your head on his shoulder with wide eyes that are quickly welling up with tears - you think you'd grabbed him so quickly so you didn't have to see his face. It told you everything in less than a second.

"Who did it?" you whisper, not trusting yourself to speak.

"Dio," Joseph responds, his voice much more steady. "Kakyoin died telling us the secret of Dio's stand. He's the reason we were able to win."

"...Oh." You squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself to breathe evenly. Fuck - he was seventeen. He shouldn't have had to die for anything. He was just a kid, and Iggy was just a dog, and Avdol was a good man who deserved only great things -

"(Y/N)." You open your eyes when Joseph's voice tears you from your thoughts. You slowly lean back and let go of him, reaching up and wiping your eyes. "I have to go check on Jotaro. I'll be back later, hopefully with him. Okay?"

You nod, sniffling. He takes your hand and lifts it to his lips, gently pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "I know how it feels," he says softly, letting his hand linger in yours. "Trust me, I know how much it hurts. You're one of the strongest people I've ever met, (Y/N). If anyone can get through this I know it's you. And don't forget that we're all here to help you, okay? And help each other. You'll never be alone again."

You think Avdol had said that to you last night. You feel a smile slightly lift your features, and you squeeze Joseph's hand. "Thank you, Joseph. Really." You give him one last hug, and as he stands up, you say softly, "I love you guys." Joseph smiles widely, almost looking teary-eyed, and he leaves the room after one last wave goodbye.

You're alone again. You turn onto your side, wincing as you shift your leg, and you think about the three people you lost on this journey. Your eyes are dry but your mind is screaming. The only thing that makes you feel slightly better is knowing that Polnareff is alright, and that you'll be able to tell him you love him soon. Finally.

The next morning, you're greeted by a couple nurses. They tell you you seem much better, and that you can try to get out of bed. With their help, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and shakily stand up. Apparently you're a lot better than they'd expected, which makes you very happy, so you're sent on your way with some crutches and a cast around your arm.

The first thing you do is walk, with some difficulty, to Polnareff's room. You peek your head inside and find that it's empty, save for him lying on the bed in the middle of the room. You make your way in as quietly as you can - it looks like he's sleeping - and you sit down in a chair next to his bed.

You want to wake him up and tell him you love him right now. All you want is to throw your arms around him, to kiss him and hold him and make some shitty joke that sends you both into a fit of giggles - but he looks so peaceful. You can't.

You reach out and brush his hair out of his face; it's not in its usual, inexplicable style, and instead it gently frames his face and falls down to his shoulders. You've never really given his appearance much mind, now that you think about it. You've been so focused on the way you feel around him and the way he makes you laugh. But looking at him now, totally serene, he's actually handsome.

You take his hand and hold it loosely. You watch him for a while and then look at the clock, which reads 8 AM. It's pretty early, so you're not surprised he's still sleeping. You sit for even longer, thinking about how lucky you are that he lived. Going up against Dio alone was suicide, you both knew it, but he still forced himself to try. He's almost stupidly brave, and you can even love him for that - even though he scared the shit out of you.

You glance at the clock again, and when you look back, Polnareff is awake and looking at you with a drowsy smile and half-lidded eyes. "Good morning," he murmurs, looking down at your hand wrapped around his. "How are you doing?"

"I love you," you blurt out, and this shocks Polnareff into full alertness. He sits up and stares at you, and you stare right back. You hadn't really meant to do that. "Jean, I think I've loved you for a long time. You do so much for me and you always make me feel so - so much and I don't know what I'd do without you. I'm just so fucking happy that you're okay." You take a deep breath and watch him; he's oddly unresponsive. You frown and start to tell him to answer you, damnit, when suddenly he leans forward and sweeps you into his arms.

He kisses you with an extreme fervor, which is something you've never really felt before. It's almost as if there's an urgency to it, like he needs you to know now how passionately he feels for you - and it's working. You kiss back, wrapping your arms around him but being careful to avoid any bandages. His teeth brush against your bottom lip and you nearly shiver. He smiles a little teasingly against you when he feels it, and you're about to push him back and yell at him when he presses his body flush against yours. He moves from your lips and kisses your jaw sweetly, letting his lips linger before moving down to the top of your neck. You sigh, leaning even further into him, and he peppers kisses down your neck before finally pulling away.

It's not really "away," though - you're practically laying on him. "Are you comfortable...?" you ask, really not sure of what to say, and he laughs loudly.

"I love you too, (Y/N). So much. Ever since I met you I knew I liked you, and I've grown to need you. You're an angel, (Y/N), mon amour. Please stay with me." He kisses you one more time, and when you part you nod your head a little clumsily.

"I thought we already agreed on that," you say, smiling, and Polnareff nods. "But I'll doubly promise that we're staying together."

Polnareff's face is bright red, and you're sure yours is too. You place your hand over his. "So how are you? Did they fix you up?"

"Yeah, and you're never gonna believe this." He picks up his other hand and all but shoves it in your face, and you gasp. He's got two prosthetic fingers; they're shiny and metallic, and they stutter a bit as he moves them. "They're not perfect yet, obviously, but we're getting there."

"Jesus, Polnareff, I..." He had taken that hit for you. A pang of guilt enters your mind, but soon it disappears and is replaced by unbelieveable gratefulness. "I love you so much." You wrap him up in a hug, and he hugs you back, a little startled.

"I love you too," he says, rubbing circles into your back. "You know... A month ago or so, I wanted to start calling you 'mon amour.' I wasn't sure if you knew what it meant, though, so I didn't want to risk giving anything away."

You look up at Polnareff and snort. "I know what 'mon amour' means, you dumbass," you tell him, laughing. He laughs too, and you both sit there, giggling in each other's arms. This is exactly what you've wanted for the past month, and what you want for the rest of your life, and it's finally yours.

A couple days later, you all arrive at the airport. Jotaro has healed up well, and he' retold the story of his battle with Dio to you. You're so thankful for everything he did, and you make sure he knows that. He's like family to you now.

"You all have everything?" Joseph asks, checking his own bag for the hundredth time.

"Yes. How many times do we have to say it?" Jotaro mutters from beside him.

Joseph sighs and relents, zipping his luggage back up. "You're right." He looks at Jotaro and then you and Polnareff, who are facing the two of them. "You're all ready?"

"Yeah. I'm really excited to meet Holly," you say with a wide smile. "She sounds amazing from what you've both told me."

"Yeah, she's pretty great." It almost sounds like Jotaro doesn't mean it, but it's clear from his small smile that he does. He obviously loves her a lot. "I'm sure she'll love you guys."

"I hope so." As he speaks, Polnareff takes your hand in his. "Well, we don't want to miss the flight."

The four of you board your plane and make your ways to your seats. Everyone save for you has a bit of a difficult time, seeing as they're impossibly tall and ridiculously buff, but it's all figured out soon enough and you're on your way.

You take the window seat, and Polnareff sits next to you. Joseph and Jotaro are on the other side of the aisle from you two. You lean your head against the window and sigh, shutting your eyes. You don't really care for plane rides, so you figure you should try to sleep.

One by one, the moments flash by. Avdol's body simply ceasing to exist, and the dull thud of his arms as they hit the ground. Iggy's howls of pain as Vanilla Ice kicked him again and again and again. You hadn't seen Kakyoin's death so your mind kindly fills in the blanks for you - you see him lying motionless on the roof of a building in Cairo, completely drenched in blood. Dio stands over him and laughs and laughs, and he looks at you and laughs harder.

Your eyes snap open and you gasp, shooting up in your seat. "Shit, (Y/N) - are you -" Polnareff is cut off by you hugging him tightly, pressing your face into his shoulder. "...Did you have a nightmare?" he asks softly.

You feel like a child but there's really no other way to put it. "Yeah," you answer, your voice muffled. "It was - well, you can figure what."

"Yeah." You can feel yourself shaking. You hadn't realized that your feelings of dread and anxiety, from all the way back on the night before you fought Dio, would follow you out of Egypt. "Mon amour..." Polnareff kisses the top of your head, and you nearly start to cry - you're so fucking sick of crying. "I've been going through the same thing. I'm sure we all are." You force yourself to let go of Polnareff, and you look up at him with teary eyes. "We'll all be able to help each other in Japan, even if it's only for a few days. Someday these feelings will subside and we'll be left with all the great memories we made with them."

Polnareff looks melancholy, which isn't an expression you often see him wear. You're sure he must miss everyone just as badly as you do, and Joseph, and Jotaro. It's a unique thing, to share this struggle with three wonderful people, and you feel lucky you have them to support you - and to support. You want to help them as best as you can, though you're still not great at talking through emotions. As you lean your head back and think about how you'll try to open up a bit more, Polnareff speaks. "I'm really excited to get to Japan," he says eagerly with a smile on his face. "Do you think there’ll be any sushi places around? I've never had it."

You gape at him. "What's the deal with you? Music, iced coffee, and now this?" You laugh. "When we get a place in New York, we're gonna get sushi and listen to all my favorite albums, okay?" He nods, grinning. "Well, my favorites and some historic ones. I'll try not to be too biased."

"I'm sure you'll only choose the best," he tells you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "I trust you."

You lean against his side, unable to stop smiling. You've don't think you've ever been this happy. You feel like laughing and crying all at once. As Polnareff pulls you closer to him and starts to hum - it's whatever he'd been singing in the shower a few days ago - you shut your eyes and take in this feeling of utmost contentment. You're a little afraid of what the future holds, in coping and learning how to live after this experience, but you're confident you'll get through it with your new little family by your side. You'll all be together for the rest of your lives.

#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #polnareff x reader #jean pierre polnareff #polnareff imagine #jjba x reader #jojo imagine #my writing #thanks again for the request! i hope you enjoyed this beast of a story lol. its like 16k and i dont know how that happened

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marshmallow-phd · 6 years ago

Text

Midnight Hours

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Sehun x Reader

Summary: For you, being a good witch was easier said than done. Something dark was lurking inside of you and the others knew it. When you’re forced to tag along with Soomi and help a local wolfpack face a coming evil, you’re sent on a path that breaks into a crossroads. While you struggle with your inner demons, could the wolf Sehun be the key to your ultimate fate?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I 15 I 16 I 17 I Final

Soomi stayed with you out in the woods for another hour or so, letting you sit there in silence while she talked about the different plants that surrounded you. She knew that you didn’t really care if this leaf could be used in a mixture to cure burns instantly or if that flower contained a nectar that was the main ingredient for a sleeping potion. It was simply a tactic to try and get your mind off of the current predicament. You couldn’t really say that it was working, but you appreciated the thought.

“We should probably go back now,” Soomi sighed after a while. It was the first sign of reluctance you’d seen from her since this whole situation began. As much as she put on a brave face, you knew she was still hurting inside.

When she first told you about Junmyeon, you were still a teenager, young, but not naive. She’d been so starry-eyed when she described the soon-to-be professor during your skype sessions that you were sure she’d come home with this new man on her arm. But then she told you the big secret: he was a wolf.

Even though you were still technically a child, you suddenly felt like the adult as you yelled at the screen. You told her to run. You told her to walk away and forget about him. The animosity between witches and wolves might have subsided slightly – at least with your coven – but that still didn’t mean she was safe. This Junmyeon could have been the perfect man that she was describing, but even if he didn’t physically hurt her, she still wouldn’t walk away unscathed. When his mate showed up, she would be the only one heartbroken.

But she didn’t listen to you and what you’d predicted came true: his mate had shown up and any feelings he might have had for Soomi disappeared like dirt in the wind. She swore that she was fine. She swore that she was over it, that’d she’d been prepared for a long time now, and she only wanted to be his friend. But you knew it wasn’t entirely true. Soomi was too kind to have to go through such cruel things.

“Or we could just go home?” you offered with a sarcastic smile. You didn’t think she would agree to it at all, but you had to try if it meant not having to run into that particular wolf again. As obnoxious and hurtful as his words were, you’d been through worse. It was the fact that his presence made you uneasy that you wanted to leave and never see him again. The quivering feeling in your stomach had subsided as you stayed out here where it was safe, but you dreaded the idea of it coming back.

It wasn’t a fearful uneasiness and that was what worried you the most. There wasn’t a direct adjective to describe the feeling; it was just… there. And you’d much rather avoid it – and him.

“Nice try,” Soomi chuckled as she pushed herself back up to her feet. “Just try to focus on the fact that once this is over, it means its over. Maybe no more visions or coming doom if you simply… wait it out.”

“Wait it out,” you sighed. “Story of my life, right?”

Soomi looked at you with a defeated expression, making your heart sink. To try and make it go away, you stepped up and wrapped your arms around her torso. A short, surprised laugh pushed out of her mouth before she returned the hug in full force.

“I’m sorry for being a jerk,” you whispered, still holding on tight.

Soomi patted your head as she said, “If anyone has the right to be a jerk, I’d say it was you at the moment, but I appreciate the apology.”

Stepping back, you let out a short sigh. “Okay. Let’s go back to the chaos they call a house.”

With a smile, Soomi took your hand and the two of you walked back to the clearing to face the wolves once again.

The run failed to accomplish what Sehun had set out to do. Instead of calming his system down and taking his mind off of the news he’d been ambushed with this morning, it only succeeded in making him more anxious. The effects of the mate pull were already starting to creep in, to take over. He hardly knew your name and yet he was already worried about you.

What did it matter if you got a little upset? Why did he have to care that you’d ran out of the kitchen and into the woods? You were a witch, couldn’t you take care of yourself in these trees?

The beast inside snarled at him as he stepped up on the porch, jeans gripped tight in his hand.

“Shut up,” he hissed at the wolf through gritted teeth. Clutching the handle of the front door with a little too much force, he shoved the barrier open, stomped through the front parlor and then froze.

You were sitting on the couch, legs folded under you with a notebook and pencil in hand. Eyes wide as the full moon, you stared at him opened mouth before flinging the notebook up to cover your face. “What the hell?!”

Oh. Right.

Perhaps he should have put the clothes on before coming inside the house.

Ignoring you to the best of his ability, Sehun continued through the living room and up the stairs to his room. Thankfully it was empty of Tao and Lottie, saving him even a little shred of dignity.

He didn’t used to have to worry about things like that. Even with the few mates that were around in the beginning of this seemingly endless rotation, he was free to continue on as normal. And that meant not having to put on the old clothes that had been laying out in the dirt and grass when he came back sweaty and tired from a hard run. But as the house became filled to the brim with females – and now a child running around as well – Sehun was forced to be a bit more obliging. Maybe he should just stay in his room all the time now. It would be easier to avoid you that way. He hoped the less interaction he had with you, the less likely the bond would grow and maybe the two of you could go on with your lives with no one being the wiser.

That’s not going to work.

Sehun growled at himself as he made his way over to the bathroom, shutting the door with a loud bang behind him.

It didn’t work that way. He knew it. He’d seen it. How many worried glances had he given Jongdae as he whined in pain, each attack increasing in strength the more he fought the pull? The only time the older wolf ever had even the slightest bit of relief was when he hid around the corner, watching Jiyoung happily serve customers through the window of the café. Sehun still remembered the way Jongdae’s shoulders would relax, releasing the tension that had been built up for days and – while at the time he always denied it – the smallest of smiles would creep onto his face, reflecting a sparkle in his eyes, like he could spend hours at that window, content at simply watching his mate do the most mundane things imaginable.

Would he be like that soon too?

Shaking his head, Sehun stepped into the steaming shower. His hope was to wash away the scrambled thoughts and incoherent babble that was currently plaguing his brain. He didn’t want to think about being mated anymore. He didn’t want to think about the consequences if he continued down the course of ignoring it. He wanted to rewind to yesterday, when he was still free and unattached.

“Hey, Sehun?”

Sehun let out a cry, nearly slipping in the water at the sudden intrusion of Baekhyun’s voice. Peeking out from behind the shower curtain, he snapped, “What?”

“Touchy,” Baekhyun scoffed. Sehun could have sworn he locked the door, but with Baekhyun, something as flimsy and inconsequential as a bathroom lock matter exactly zilch. “We’re having lunch and Junmyeon wants you to join us.”

“I’ll be down in a minute,” he grumbled. Baekhyun threw him a salute before shutting the door once more. So much for staying away.

Rinsing out the last of the shampoo, Sehun turned off the water and stepped out onto the bath mat, leaving behind water-induced footprints as he dried off with a towel and headed back to his room to get dressed.

Down in the kitchen, a majority of the mates were already eating whatever meal Kyungsoo and Dana had taken the liberty of making. From the smells that floated in the air and the clanking of spoons against porcelain bowls, it seemed that Dana had made her famous soup. Excellent. He was starving.

“Here.” Junmyeon all but shoved the fresh bowl of soup into Sehun’s hands, sloshing the liquid and almost making a mess on the tile floor. It didn’t take the second coming of Einstein to see that Junmyeon was still a little irritated with him, but the alpha would get over it soon enough. Being the youngest in the group had its advantages after all.

Happily taking the warm meal, Sehun shuffled over to the side of the kitchen, leaning up against the counter next to Luhan, who was watching his mate with careful eyes as she sipped tiny spoonful’s of soup. Harper was still adjusting to life here as well as everyone adjusting to her now constant presence. It was hard not to be cagey around her, especially since she’d almost killed Minseok. Most of the mates liked her – even Ji Yeon had warmed up to her after a while. But Sehun still kept his distance. It was hard, seeing his closest brother go through that. It stung even more knowing that he didn’t confide in any of them about it. Slowly but surely, they were all moving past the incident, but Harper still kept to herself when it came to a majority of the wolves.

“Okay,” Junmyeon sighed when he was done with his own bowl. After placing it in the sink and getting a side-eye glare from Minseok was that was easily ignored, he moved a little closer to the center of room, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s time to finish our conversation from earlier.”

“Which part?” Jongin asked after he finished slurping up what was left of Kimberly’s soup.

“The living arrangements part,” Junmyeon replied.

Baekhyun pulled Hae In onto his lap while she didn’t seem the least bit bothered, continuing on her side conversation with Lottie. “Where did they sleep last night?”

“In Jongin’s room.”

Sehun barely bit back a growl in time at that news. There was no reason to be jealous, but that didn’t stop the emotion from rearing its ugly head in that moment. A tiny crack appeared near the rim of the bowl when Sehun’s grip had tightened before he checked himself. Glancing to make sure no one had noticed or was watching him too closely, he slyly adjusted the bowl so his hand was covering the break. Then he lifted his eyes and immediately regretted it.

You were staring at him. Not point blank, but with little flickers as you tried to keep your concentration focused on Junmyeon. Something kept pulling your gaze to him. Feeling cheeky, Sehun smirked, pretending to be cocky about your earlier encounter. That seemed to pull you out of it as you cleared your throat and adjusted yourself in the chair so you were profile to him.

“They can keep my room,” Jongin offered. Sehun had to put the bowl down behind him before he smashed it to pieces.

“Then where are you going to go?” Jongdae asked aggressively. On the pack’s side or not, he was still distrustful of the witches, evident by the way he never let Jiyoung go whenever one was around. He seemed to easily forget that Soomi was the main reason that Jiyoung was even around with his mark on her neck.

Jongin shrugged. “I can stay at Kimberly’s.”

Said mate was currently fighting back a beaming smile at that suggestion.

Junmyeon, however, dashed those hopes as he shook his head. “No, I’d rather us all stay together for the time being.”

“She can take my bed.”

All eyes snapped towards Sehun as soon as the words left his mouth. He hadn’t even had time to think about the words before they’d escaped. But he knew it would be the only solution that wouldn’t cause him to go insane.

“Sehun, are you feeling okay?” Luhan joked beside him, elbowing his side for good emphasis.

He threw Luhan a look before saying, “Tao and I have two beds in our room and there’s two of them. It makes sense, that’s all.”

He cringed internally, wondering if he put a little too much defense into his reasoning.

“Then where are we supposed to go?” Tao whined as he pointed back and forth between himself and Lottie.

The latter scoffed. “I think you mean ‘you’. I have a place to sleep.”

“At your parents’ house,” Lanie scoffed teasingly.

“Hey, I’ll take rent-free while I can,” Lottie argued back playfully.

“That, and you enjoy sneaking Tao through your window at night,” Hae In snorted.

“Girls,” Junmyeon scolded. “Can we stay on track here, please?”

Only Lottie seemed the tiniest bit remorseful while the others just shrug.

Yes. Let’s get back on track and finish this so I can leave again. Avoidance might not be the best answer right now, but with you so close, he was having a hard time concentrating on anything else. No wonder the others were so nauseating when their mates were around. To feel that you were real and tangible was an almost irritable urge.

Great. Now he was making himself sick.

“Sehun does have a point,” Kris agreed, much to his relief. “But where will they go?”

“There’s plenty of floor space,” Sehun said. Tao whined, but didn’t give any further protest to the idea.

Evie, however, had another suggestion. “Why don’t we go into town and get a fold out couch and put it in the basement? There’s plenty of room down there and I’m sure you’d both be more comfortable.”

“Why don’t we just get the pullout couch for them?” That question quickly earned Tao a slap on the shoulder from Lottie. “Ow!”

“You can’t just make them sleep on a pullout couch,” Lottie chastised. “It’s called chivalry.”

You rolled your eyes, having moved to a positon where Sehun could see you again after his initial offer. “We can take the pullout, it’s not a big deal.”

Sehun hated that idea more than you staying in Jongin’s room, although he couldn’t quite figure out why. “No, we’ll take it. You’ll take the beds.”

You apparently didn’t take kindly to his word usage. “Are you ordering me?”

Sehun scoffed. “No, I’m telling you, there’s a difference.”

“I don’t think there’s much of a difference there,” you argued.

Junmyeon growled, effectively ending the verbal boxing match before it could get too out of hand. “This was not the fight I was expecting to happen.”

Soomi looked uncomfortable and guilty as she ran her lithe fingers through her hair. “I know you wanted to keep us close by, Junmyeon, but maybe it’s really best if (y/n) and I go to a nearby hotel. Surely there’s a place outside of town on the way here that has a room.”

Junmyeon shook his head. “No. I promised Mother Willow that we would look after you and I’m not going back on that.” Turning to the rest of them, he declared, “This is what is going to happen: (y/n) and Soomi will take Sehun and Tao’s room. Kris and I will go into town and buy the pullout today and get it down to the basement for Tao and Sehun. End of discussion.”

A few grumbles of agreement made their rounds throughout the room before settling into silence. Content for the time being, Sehun pushed off the counter and left the kitchen.

What the hell was that all about? You pondered on that for the millionth time as you unzipped your suitcase on one of the beds. The question had been bouncing around your head since you watched Sehun leave the kitchen with no answer in sight. Was this supposed to be his way of making up his attitude from this morning? If it was, he was terrible at apologizing.

Knock, knock.

“Come in,” you called out as you started pulling clothes out and walked over to the dresser that Junmyeon had picked up for you as well. As much as you didn’t mind living out of your suitcase for however long this was to last, you appreciated the thought anyway.

Whoever it was didn’t announce themselves when they entered the room. You knew it wasn’t Soomi as she said she was going to call Mother Willow and update her on the fact that you’d made it safely and were settling in. Phone calls like that were never short and sweet with Mother Willow and poor Soomi had left less than five minutes ago. Since your visitor didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry, you continued to unpack with your back to them.

“The other bed is more comfortable.”

You stiffened at the voice. What did he want?

Turning around slowly, you crossed your arms over your chest and lifted a brow. “So, what? It’s a bed.”

The wolf’s stance confused you. He kept shifting from foot to foot as if he was agitated about something. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his jeans and the muscles in his jaw were tight. He didn’t respond to your snarky comment which just confused you further.

You huffed, “Did you need something?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For this morning.”

“This morning?”

“Yeah.”

Silence.

You knew what he meant by this morning. And, truth be told, you were over it, wordlessly accepting the apology. That didn’t mean you wanted him to think you were a pushover.

Sehun looked away at the dresser, frowning. He took a deep breath, wincing like you smelled bad before releasing the used air out of his lungs. As soon as his eyes were back on you, your heart did a back flip. You tried to swallow to get it back down in its proper place, but that did little good. There was so much happening in his deep brown eyes that you couldn’t even begin to decipher what he was thinking.

“I’m sorry again, about what I said,” he repeated, finally easing whatever tension had been building between you. “If you need anything, let me know.” With that, he turned back towards the door.

“Did Junmyeon put you up to this?” you asked suddenly before he could disappear.

He froze, barely looking at you over his shoulder. His eyes flashed with conflict before he motioned to the other bed with head. “That bed’s more comfortable. Use it.”

And he left.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. Well, there was your answer. Yes.

And yet, even with how irritated you were in the current moment, you found yourself picking up your suitcase and moving over to the other bed.

Because it was more comfortable.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #sehun x reader #oh sehun #exo werewolf!au #exo werewolf au #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo series #exo supernatural au #Midnight Hours #untamed wolf universe

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marvel-lucy · 5 years ago

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The Ultimate Weapon, chapter 4

Let’s all sit around and chat about torture!

“So, let’s start again, this hasn’t gone so well today”. Steve spoke. He was sitting in a chair, one ankle crossed on the other knee, happy to look at me now I was dressed. Bruce was sitting, elbows on knees, running his fingers through his hair again. The other two sat, arms folded, and watchful. I could see they were ready to spring at the slightest movement.

“You’re safe here. SAFE. I mean it. Hydra can’t get you here. I know you have no reason to trust us, but I hope we can earn your trust. And we can, well, start to trust you. We know you’re powerful, and we know you’ve been tortured. We want to find out who you are, help you get a life back. I’ll tell you everything I can, everything we know, and then maybe, is there anything you can tell us?”

I looked at them all. I had so many questions I wanted to ask, but I didn’t dare speak out, I’d learnt long ago not to speak, but I decided to risk it. I meant to ask just one question but I opened my mouth and words flooded out.

“Where am I? Who are you? What do you want with me? Why didn’t you leave me to die? I’m a liability, you can’t trust me” I stopped. I had rarely said so many words at once and I cringed at the possibility of punishment.

None came though, and this time Bruce spoke. “OK, reasonable questions! We’re in New York, Stark Tower, this is the Avengers base” He must have seen my blank look. “You haven’t heard of the Avengers? Just as well Tony’s not here, he’d be mock-offended” He gave me a small smile, but sighed when I didn’t respond. “Well, maybe that tells us how long you’ve been hidden from the world. You’ve got a lot of catching up today, but hey, we got you up to speed on 70 years right Cap?” He smiled at Steve, who gave a small smile back. I could see they were trying to break the tension with humour but with the other two poised to kill, it was going to take more than some jokes I didn’t understand.

He sighed again. “OK. So as we told you, we found you, just over a week ago, in Siberia. Hydra has one of its largest bases there – or had, it’s gone now. We found records of their super soldier programme down there, Tony and Jarvis are working on them now, trying to find out who you are and what they wanted with you. It seems like there were others down there at some point but you were the last to survive”. He looked at me questioningly, and I nodded. I remembered some of the others. I remembered what had happened to them. I remembered what I’d been made to do to some of them. They were all dead now.

He continued. “We’re not going to be able to fill everything in in one afternoon, but we’re the good guys” He smiled again. “The Avengers Initiative – everyone living here is one of the team. We’ve all got special… skills. Abilities. And we go after Hydra. That’s the short version, I guess.”

Steve spoke next. “As to who we are, well. I’m Steve Rogers. I was the first person treated under the super-soldier programme, back in, well, a long time ago. I’m enhanced, like you, although Hydra used a…different… method to bring out your powers”. He looked at me, then away, he seemed afraid to meet my eyes when talking about torture.

“This is Bruce Banner. He’s a scientist – one of the best – and has, well, another side that we don’t need to go into. As you heard, Bruce is desperate to find out just what your powers are like, but only when you’re ready, and only what you’re comfortable with”. This startled me. I wasn’t used to choice or free will. That would be something to think about when I was next alone.

Steve then nodded at the man sitting watchfully nearby. “This is Bucky. Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes. He’s serum-enhanced too”. This made sense, he’d been a good match for me in the fight. “And this is Nat. Natasha Romanov. Not enhanced, but, well…” He paused and Nat spoke up “I’m damn good in a fight and I look great in leather, right Steve?” She winked, it seemed as if all three of them were keen to defuse the tension while Bucky was quite happy for it to remain.

Steve smiled and Bruce sat back, relaxing a bit now that nobody was attacking anyone else, and carried on speaking. “Then you’ve got Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man, and there’s a few others who live here when they’re not out on missions – Sam Wilson and Wanda Maximoff are both off-base at the moment. Pepper runs the place… and Jarvis you’ve met – anything you need, just ask Jarvis”. I looked blank, I hadn’t met anyone else that I remembered, when a voice spoke from…nowhere.

“Good evening, I am Jarvis, Mr. Stark’s artificial intelligence. If you require anything, please feel free to simply ask and I will be happy to provide”. I was proud of the fact I didn’t jump when the voice spoke, even though my heart did, and I’m pretty sure I saw Bucky smirk knowingly.

I took a breath, and asked the question I really wanted answering: “And what do you want with me? Why am I here?” I stared into Bruce’s eyes, but it was Steve that answered. “Once we knew that our intel was right, and Hydra were experimenting with the super-serum again, we had to shut them down. We’re not sure how long they’d been working on it until we got word of it, but we’ve spent a year searching for their base. This was top-secret, highly-classified, need-to-know and finding it was hard. Once we did find it, and saw…what was going on, we had to get you out. We don’t want anything from you – what you do once you’re healed is up to you – but we’d like to help you figure out who you are, and what you want, and maybe you’ll want to join us after that. If not, Tony can set you up with a new life out there somewhere”.

My breath caught in my throat. What I do is up to me? I felt my hands clenching in the bedsheets and willed them to relax but I know they’d all seen. So they were willing to just let me walk out? Surely that was a trap, and yet I wanted to believe them.

Steve continued. “First things first, we need to get you healed up. Serum-wise, it won’t take long. If you let Bruce evaluate you, he’ll be in your debt forever, and it’s hard to resist those puppy dog eyes, right?” He smiled at me, perhaps misunderstanding my tension. “Jarvis and Tony are trying to work out who you were. Who you are, I mean. We’ve got DNA from your blood work; images that Jarvis has retroed, to see what you looked like younger; dental images although to be honest, most of your teeth were broken when you got here – we’ll get you to the dentist as soon as…” I could see him thinking ‘as soon as we don’t think you’ll bite his fingers off’, which made me smile. This obviously gave him some hope and he asked the question that made me tense up yet again. “Is there ANYthing you can tell us, that might help us figure out your identity? Do you remember any names, faces, heck, we don’t even know which country you’re from”?

My mind skittered away from thoughts of my identity. It was as if I was born only when Hydra found me and started their work. I knew there was a me before Hydra, but who it was seemed lost. Occasional flashes appeared in my brain and were gone as soon as I tried to look at them: faces that felt familiar but without any idea who they were; a house with a tree in the garden; a cat stalking through some grass, hunting a butterfly. But when Hydra decided that I needed to be broken, they did a good job.

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nightstill-blog · 7 years ago

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oh, how a childhood fear can still linger after so many years. folding laundry, washing the dishes—even driving to work. the tiniest thought could trigger a hellish daydream that could last for days. weeks. maybe even a month if the thought holds enough negative impact to scar one’s emotions. and even so, you’re still expected to proceed with your daily routine as if everything’s alright.

“i never knew i’d meet eyes with satan himself again. look at you, how is life treating you?”

dooyoung is fueling with confidence, threatening without a second thought. fourteen years is quite a long time to think about what to spit back into the face of the man before him. dooyoung is currently fighting a grin. you’d expect dooyoung to react the complete opposite of how he’s presenting himself right in this moment, but to be truthful, his adrenaline is skyrocketing. despite it, his heart rate is practically going a million miles per hour. it’s a feeling he can’t necessarily describe even with all of the vocabulary possessed by the world.

the man doesn’t bat an eye. dooyoung can only guess he’s either enduring guilt or he doesn’t give a damn. it could be the latter. “you know… mom’s dead. did you know that after all? even after all of these years, do you even give even the slightest shit about the woman you loved, supposedly?” he pauses before narrowing his eyes, “maybe not, i forgot about all of those nasty whores you slept with. they gave into your bullshit. do you feel good about all that? huh? why aren’t you talking?” of course, this is far from what dooyoung would approach this subject. it’s the anger about his mother’s death resurfacing after so many years. why does it feel like her death only happened yesterday?

the moments of silence motivates dooyoung to harshly grasp the man by the throat, dragging them both down to the ground. the impact is strong; the man’s evidently choking, attempting to gasp for air. “why the fuck aren’t you talking?” dooyoung doesn’t waste any time conveying his intense emotions, “do you feel good right now? are you… comfortable? because to be quite honest, i haven’t been comfortable my entire fucking life. you tainted my heart in so many ways, i’ve lost count.”

a tear races down dooyoung’s cheek before it ends up falling on the man’s face.“…i don’t even want to acknowledge you as my father. i’m surprised you haven’t been rotting in hell yet, is god really giving you more chances than what you deserve? is that it, huh? are you tainting more lives by the day?”

the man is provoked beyond belief—without a word, dooyoung impales his father with the pocket knife kept in his right pocket. slowly, slowly, slowly. he can tell that the knife is working its magic as the man gasps as an initial reaction. it’s not long before he’s coughing up droplets of blood, soon turning into trails. “you lost your chance to speak up, but honestly, i’d rather not hear you speak. i did all of the listening before. you know, all of those words that annihilated my self esteem.” the grin he was fighting earlier—it’s now presenting itself very well.

“are you comfortable now?”

instantly, dooyoung pulls himself up out of the deepest sleep he’s had in ages. he’s gasping for air as the fear really impacted him, practically clinging to his bedsheets as a coping mechanism in the moment. his limbs—numb. dooyoung’s mind is completely flooded with both confusion and… passion, you could say. he could only wish that the nightmare was real, but at the same time, it’s better not to confront his ultimate fear. even after fourteen years, dooyoung is convinced that his life will remain as a lingering nightmare for the rest of his days. there’s no escape.

reliance is the epitome of the devil. relying on the bitter taste of vodka burning the enclosure of his throat, liquid confidence in a bottle just waiting to be finished. nothing mixed with it, the liquor would remain how it is. dooyoung would rather strike harder than the pain that’s deliberately gashing the valves of his forsaken heart. not only that, but relying on the bittersweet touch of another human body pressed against his own, intimacy becoming a comforting feeling under the sheets in pitch darkness. dooyoung would know their name to say at the least, so perhaps they’re an acquaintance. considering them a stranger would be a stretch but of course, it’s all the vodka fueling the thrill.

in the back of dooyoung’s head, he’s fully aware of the consequences. despite the adrenaline, despite the intoxication, despite the dying need to feel touched. reckless, idiotic. so unlike him. dooyoung knows that when he wakes up the next morning with an empty side on the bed, his heart will shatter into a countless amount of pieces. he’ll realize that this feeling of adequacy is only a momentary abstraction. nothing is meant to last. the other person utilizing him to fulfill their own desires? not that he needed another reason to vomit, but it definitely worsens the pain in his stomach. dooyoung would, once again, break down his security to someone meaningless. a toxic lifestyle dooyoung lives, but he’d rather live a moment of gratification than not at all.

rinse and repeat.

#sp #tw blood #tw knives

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mercy-burning · 4 years ago

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Cold Feet (Alternate Version)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: After receiving a letter from an old flame just days away from her wedding, Reader wonders if she should call it all off. —Inspired by the song Cold Feet by Tenille Arts Category: Angst (unhappy ending) Content Warnings: An almost kiss that isn’t with Reader’s fiancé Word Count: 1.8k

Read the other version of Cold Feet here!

MASTERLIST

***

She should be happily wrapped in a dream, Safe in a warm bed and sound asleep. So why is she walking back home From a long night down by the creek, With cold feet?

Y/N is currently finding it difficult to breathe.

It was easier a couple days ago when she knew exactly what she wanted. Her husband-to-be was more than excited to marry her, and she'd reciprocated that feeling entirely. Everything was ready to go. Truthfully, they could have gotten married right this second if that's what they wanted, that's how ready to go they were.

But now? She was questioning everything.

She still felt the thin paper in her hands, even with its folded body currently tucked away in an old book she knew was never going to be opened again- a gift from the man who'd written the letter in the first place.

The first time she read it, her heart sank. And by the third time she'd read it, her heart soared.

And then her fiancé walked in, asked her about what to make for dinner, and her heart sank all over again.

Honestly, damn him for choosing now to finally confess. Damn him for making her question everything, after she'd finally moved on and found someone who would always be around.

But then again, she'd ended up choosing to live in a house in their hometown, just blocks away from that creek he'd mentioned in his letter. So... Maybe she hadn't moved on entirely

She hated that she even had to think about it.

She hated that her thoughts were so consumed with this man she hadn't seen in years when the man she was about to marry slept next to her every night, unaware of the start to her inner turmoil. Each night since then, she dreamt of dances with both of them, alternating between the two until they made her choose which of them she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. And every morning she'd wake with an even bigger tear in her heart than when the old flame had burned it alive and left her alone in the aftermath to piece it back together.

Her fiancé helped her do that, though. Day by day he taught her to love again, to trust in somebody again, and he was truly a good man.

So why was it absolutely destroying her, thinking of getting married to him when there was someone else in the picture to think about? Someone who'd had a hold on her for well over fifteen years?

Again, she hated that she even had to think about it.

But she wasn't about to get married with all these conflicting thoughts, so whether she wanted to or not, her only real option was the one that would also be the hardest on her tattered heart.

She'd sent him a text message this morning that read, Midnight, and tucked her phone away for the rest of the day, drowning herself in mindless work and looking to keep time moving forward.

Now, she struggles to breathe as she makes her way down to the creek.

It's cold, having just rained fifteen minutes prior, and she wraps her fiancé's cardigan tightly over her her arms, searching for warmth and comfort. She would have settled for one of her own, heavier pieces, but in some strange way she thought maybe having something there that belonged to her fiancée would ground her, something to remind her of the gravity of the situation at hand.

Nothing could have grounded her upon seeing her ex boyfriend after all these years, though, especially when she finally shows up to their old spot and sees him perched on the big stump right next to the water, relief and joy flooding through his features at the sight of her. His smile is just as bright and familiar as she remembered, and it just about knocks the wind out from under her feet.

"Hi, Y/N," he greets softly, standing up and stretching his hands out over his legs. It's obvious that he's nervous to meet up with her after all these years apart, and she couldn't blame him in the slightest.

She's just as nervous as her feet take baby steps towards him. Meanwhile she's hugging her fiancée's cardigan around her body tighter than before. "Hi..."

"I... I can't believe you actually wanted to meet. Truthfully I thought I wouldn't hear back from you."

"Well... Your letter kind of rattled me... You rattled me. I guess I just had to know..."

There's a long pause before he takes a small step towards her and tilts his head. His words are hesitant, like he thinks she might say something he doesn't want to hear. "And... What do you know?"

"I know that I love my fiancé. After you, I didn't really think I'd ever love anyone the same way again, but... He makes me happier than I've ever been, and I... I can't just discard that feeling because you decided too late that you still love me. You know?"

"I do, Y/N, I really do," he answers earnestly, and this time his hand reaches out to grab hers. "But... I mean, you showed up here, didn't you? That has to count for something..."

She isn't really sure how to respond after that. It's true that seeing this man in front of her for the first time in years has brought back a wave of feelings that she'd repressed and even experienced with someone new.

But it's also true that with those feelings comes an inevitable aftertaste of bitterness. He'd left her, decided ultimately that his career was more important to him, and now that she has someone new he's asking her to leave behind this peace she's found. And for what? For him? What's to stop him from leaving again, or deciding years or months down the road that he'd made a mistake and gotten her to leave her one shot at happiness after him?

Nonetheless, she sits with him for hours, listening to him explain... Giving him a chance. He apologizes for the past, he promises to do better in the future, and in between he makes her laugh. Their hands brush, their breaths mingle as they huddle from the cold, and with every passing minute, the cardigan on her shoulders becomes looser and more forgotten.

Slowly but surely, he's lowering her defenses and gaining her trust. He's showing her bits and pieces of the man she fell in love with until they're laughing at close to 3am.

And then, for a moment, it's quiet. Absolutely quiet, save for the crickets and the soft rolling of the creek behind them.

Y/N almost lets him kiss her then.

But then her heart hammers in her chest, and not in a good way. Suddenly, she's imagining the pure heartbreak that would surely manifest on her fiancé's face if he found out- if she really decided to leave him for this old flame that had barely started to kindle once again years later.

She has to be absolutely certain of her decision.

So she pulls back and wraps her fiancé's cardigan tightly around her arms. "I should go home."

There's disappointment in his eyes, and it twists her gut a little. "Right... Um... I-I can take you back, if you want."

"No, I, uh... I think I'm gonna walk. I have to think."

Y/N avoids his gaze just quickly enough that she doesn't see the disappointment in his eyes fizzle into a tiny sliver of hope.

Rain on the sidewalk, doubt in her mind. One thing's for sure, she's running out of time To decide what's right, And who's heart she's willing to break.

She climbs into bed some time later, the cardigan still wrapped tightly around her body, and she can't quite bring herself to face the man sleeping next to her. It feels wrong, like somehow she's betrayed him by even thinking of spending the rest of her life with another person. She doesn't feel worthy of his love.

When she wakes up the next morning, she'd somehow ended up facing him anyway. He's staring at her with adoring eyes, and under his gaze she can't help the guilt that washes over her.

"Quit looking at me like that..."

Her words are grumbly and soft because of having just woken up, and because her face is half hidden behind blankets and his cardigan, her fiancé doesn't know anything is wrong.

Instead, he laughs. "What, you're beautiful... And before you start arguing with me, yes, you're even beautiful when you wake up."

She only grumbles, feeling anything but.

It's quiet for a moment or two before he speaks again. "You're wearing my cardigan..."

Peeking her eyes out from the mountain of fabric, she can see the enchantment in his eyes and it makes her warm. "I was cold..."

While true, she mostly means I had cold feet.

"Come here."

Two simple words, two syllables, and yet it's the softest declaration of love she's ever heard. Her body instinctively nestles into his, face going straight into the crook of his neck while he wraps her up in his arms.

"There," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You feel warmer yet?"

"Mhm..." She sighs into his skin and then takes in a deep breath.

He smells like home.

He feels like home.

And as he starts softly humming her favorite song, rubbing soothing circles into her back as he holds her close, Y/N wonders why she'd ever doubted her love for him.

He is home.

Spencer never was— he was almost always gone.

Letting him go is hard given their past; The good in their relationship was really good, but... it wasn’t enough. It isn't enough for Y/N to leave behind this new, pure love that had reopened parts of her soul she hadn't realized could be repaired after Spencer.

While James makes coffee in the kitchen, Y/N wanders to the bookshelf, gently removing Spencer's gift from the dark wood and swiping her hand over the bound leather exterior. The letter enclosed inside, handwriting that matches an inscription on the front inside cover of the book, beats softly like a heart.

Later that day, as she makes her way five towns over, that heartbeat slowly diminishes— until, finally, she drops it off at the local bookstore for donation, and it stops beating altogether.

And Spencer, somehow, can feel it. He feels it deep in his bones, that she'd given up on them— on him.

He feels the beating of his heart slow down day after day, so quiet and barely tangible, that once the day of her wedding finally arrives, it shatters altogether.

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanficiton #criminal minds angst

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praesidioest · 7 years ago

Text

Gladnis Week - Day 3

for @gladnisweek

Day 3 - Gladio and Ignis get tricked by Prompto and Noct into going on a date

Chapters: 3/7 Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, gladnis Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, fluff, domestic, slice of life, domestic angst, jfc can they kiss already (no never), slow burn, iono man Summary: Gladio and Ignis get tricked by Prompto and Noct into going on a date. A bad time is had by all.

AO3 link: here!

“What if we went to—”

“Don’t say Dorsia,” Ignis snapped, his hand immediately clamped over Gladio’s mouth to preclude the possibility that he would.

The two held a tense moment, sat tangled on Gladio’s couch, the metronomic tick-tock of the clock on the wall marking the moments during which Gladio watched for every nuance of displeasure in Ignis’s face, aimed very pointedly at him. When finally the silence had dragged on too long, sure that Gladio would comply, Ignis had raised a brow in menacing question before letting his hand fall away from its occupation.

“Why not Dorsia?” Gladio blurted out, as soon as he was free to, and precisely because he was not at liberty to. “I’ve heard you mention their menu more than once. And that whole—” He gestured frantically here. “Just kinda seems like your scene.”

Plans for their six month anniversary always started with enthusiastic intentions to make arrangements, but often devolved into half-hearted suggestions of restaurant venues, which then turned into somewhat heated discussions of little relevance to their topic at hand, and ultimately resulted in no decision made. Exhaustion on Ignis’s part was sometimes to blame, or hungry irritation on Gladio’s, genuine inability to think of any passable suggestion in the moment, or sometimes the distraction of each others’ lips or hands or suggestive whispers that ended in decidedly unproductive exploits. And the closer they came to the date, the more distinct the tension of expectation grew, the more desperate the need to finally hammer something out.

Ignis gave a sharp sigh of irritation. “Firstly, it would be impossible to make a reservation this close to the date—”

Gladio’s face screwed up in disbelief. “You don’t think we can’t pull a few strings? As Crownsguard?”

“Secondly,” Ignis continued loudly, ignoring his question as though it were too absurd to acknowledge (it wasn’t, entirely). “I believe they, as a reputable establishment, would have a strict ‘No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service’ policy in place that I’m sure you’ll flout spectacularly, so I rather don’t see the point.”

Gladio threw up his hands in exasperation, slumping petulantly down into the cushions of his sofa. “Gods, I’d put on a proper shirt if we went somewhere nice, Ignis. I’m not a caveman.”

“Tell me that next time we make love,” Ignis quipped flatly, without missing a beat.

Gladio sat bolt upright, a facetious menace to his voice. “That’s it! We’re broken up for the rest of the day,” proclaimed, smacking a pillow for emphasis. “Tryn’a be productive here, there is no need to be giving me the business …”

It had been a half a year now, spent together in an impossible idyll between them. There were times it seemed to them that they were so comfortable around each other they might have been together for years. Other times when the novelty still surprised them, caught them unawares, left them stupid and giddy like they were the boys they once were when they first fell in love.

In spite of Gladio’s enthusiasm to espouse all the commonplace conceits of dating (dinner dates and movie nights, the pride of being able to publically call Ignis his own, emphasised by the occasional but healthy smattering of some truly repulsive overwrought public displays of affection), he’d come to terms with Ignis’s preference for secrecy in the matter, and eventually came to prefer it. No one meddling, not having to worry about anyone else’s opinions on their private relationship, no scrutiny under watchful eyes that inhibited and undermined them. Was it wise, for the Sword and Shield to commiserate? Would it compromise their commitment, their devotion to their offices, to Noctis? Questions that had every right to be posited, given the significance of their jobs, but unnecessary and unpleasant to address, in both their estimations. It was nice, therefore, having something that was clandestine and private, and all their own. So they kept it that way.

Keeping it a secret from Noctis and Prompto had been difficult, though, as neither of them were the sort to have any proclivity for deception. But it became a sort of poorly-played game to them, wherein Gladio would slip and say something suggestive, which Ignis would then have to shut down, and the two would have to pretend to be mad at each other. Ignis would sometimes be so convincing that he’d need to spend a fair amount of time petting the bewildered Gladio later that night. Ignis, therefore, was adept in the art of soothing Gladio’s hurt feelings, a skill which he utilized now, with dazzling aplomb.

“Broken up for the rest of the day?” Ignis repeated as though he had never before heard anything so appalling. His hands found Gladio’s shoulders like an anchor, and he slipped neatly into his lap. “I disagree.”

Gladio’s knee had begun to bounce with impatience, and he turned his face away to avoid the sight of Ignis’s face, which would surely compromise the resolve of his protest. “What do you mean, you disagree? There's nothing to debate here. It’s not a matter of opinion. I stated a fact.”

Ignis’s hand smoothed up the thick of his neck, fingertips tracing the line of his jaw, pinching lightly at his chin to hold him in place as he delivered a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Is it not up for debate, the veracity of this fact?”

Whatever protest Gladio had intended to cling to had died when his hand found the curve of Ignis’s ass, and he hated himself a little for how amenable he was to the surrender. “That’s not fair, you know.”

“What’s not?” Ignis asked, feigning innocence as he shifted very pointedly in Gladio’s lap.

Gladio’s hand smacked at his ass sharply, grabbing hold of it and jiggling it for emphasis. “This.” He kissed him quickly on the mouth. “That, too. I mean, basically all of this.” He ran his hands frantically up his thighs, his backside, in demonstration of this fact.

Ignis laughed. “Eloquent.”

“Yeah?” Gladio grinned, kissing him meaningfully. “You expect me to think when all the blood that should be going to my brain is rushing my dick right now?”

“What was that protest about being called a caveman?” he asked, saccharine-sweet as he touted his own victory.

“Yeah, I concede,” Gladio announced into the fabric of his shirt, where he mouthed at the jut of his collarbone. “Woof.”

The distinct sound of a key pushed into the lock preceded the swing of the front door, and without a thought, Gladio had hoisted Ignis up and tossed him inelegantly to the other side of the couch, where he quickly arranged himself into a picture of composure: hair smoothed, shirt straightened, legs crossed artfully, while Gladio attempted to think of the most disgusting things imaginable to tamp down the ridiculous boner already presenting along his thigh.

Noctis and Prompto bounded in, stopping short of the corner they’d rounded to find them in the living room at the sight of them. Noctis’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, though Prompto gleefully threw himself on the couch between them, propping up his boots on the coffee table with a sated, theatrical sigh.

“I knew you’d be here!” Prompto laughed, with something like triumph in his voice, as he tucked his hands behind his head. “Noct thought you’d be at Ignis’s place, but I had a feeling. Anyways, I won! I think that deserves a meal of some sort. Or at least an ice cream!”

Noctis gave one of those scoffing, sardonic laughs. “You didn’t win anything. We didn’t make a bet.”

Prompto sat up, indignance bright in his eyes. “Hey, man, I’m hungry! I’d honestly settle for a questionable hot dog, like, even one with sauerkraut on it—”

“Is there something you require?” Ignis interrupted, standing to inquire with a gravity to his voice serious enough to catch the pair of interlopers off guard. “It isn’t often that you seek me out, so I’m inclined to worry that you’re not here for purely social indulgences.”

“Well, you’re wrong,” Noctis informed him, in that too-grave way of his, the slightest arch of his brow the only indication of amusement in his expression. “I just thought you guys could use this.” He reached into his front pocket for a folded paper, which Gladio received and opened to read aloud.

“ …. A Groupon?”

“Yeah!” Prompto piped up, nodding enthusiastically along. “My mom bought it, thinking it would be a great way to strong arm my dad into taking her out on a date. You know, pre-paid dinner, pre-determined time frame that basically demanded he take her or else! … It was a real good effort on her part, but you know my dad and his love affair with work …”

Gladio looked skeptically at the paper, lined in exuberant red hearts drawn in Prompto’s undeniably sure and romantic hand. “So why would we want it, exactly?”

“Why not?” Noctis countered sharply, almost aggressively.

Prompto’s eyes went wide, and Gladio watched him scramble to find some more amenable explanation. “We thought it would be a nice change of pace! You know, something relaxed and romantic—”

Noctis shoved him.

“I mean, relaxed and …. Relaxed …. Yeah!” Prompto added hastily, his voice high with the strain of forced cheer. “Anyways, it’s about to expire, so why let it go to waste, you know?”

Gladio peered at the paper. “Doesn’t expire until next month.”

Noctis snatched the paper from Gladio’s hand, holding his gaze with unwavering displeasure as he pawed at Prompto’s vest front to retrieve one of the pens he kept there (just in case I get a number!). The pen scratched out the date with a pointed viciousness and scribbled in nonsensical numbers, before Noctis tossed the crumpled paper back at Gladio. “Look again.”

“Ah,” Gladio said, clearing his throat. “There it is.”

“There what is?” Ignis asked.

Gladio gave a soft laugh as he settled back in triumph, smacking Ignis’s thigh with the Groupon. “So looks like we’re going to Dorsia.”

In spite of all the misgivings he’d harbored over Gladio’s inability to dress for the occasion—any occasion— he had scrubbed up rather well, outfitting himself smartly in charcoal slacks tailored to the gods, a fitted white oxford left unbuttoned at the collar (and only the collar), finished with a surprisingly stylish jacket of a simple cut but in a luxurious silk satin that looked expensive to the discerning eye. Ignis had been pleasantly surprised, enough that he elected not to inhibit or disguise his pointed appreciation as he’d run his hand over the broad bow of his shoulders, the length of his torso, letting his hands roam inquisitively to discern his boyfriend’s surprising sartorial salience. Even now, sat a the table across from him, Ignis chewed quietly at his bottom lip, to Gladio’s distraction, who knew exactly what that tell meant.

The waiter that attended them looked politely nonplussed to the inconspicuous tension between them, as he waited for Gladio to inform him of his choice.

Distracted (more than normal) over the sight of Ignis, Gladio had paid little more attention than a cursory glance at the menu, reluctantly tearing his gaze from Ignis to finally regard the waiter beside him. “So this … vol-au-vent of braised sweetbreads in a black truffle madeira sauce,” he read off, with a stunted facility of confusion. “What exactly are sweetbreads?”

“Offal,” the waiter replied dutifully.

“Awful!” Gladio barked out a laugh that surprised the waiter enough to preclude any further explanation. “Hilarious. We got a joker over here. I’ll have one of those and a glass of whatever wine you would recommend to pair with it.”

“The sommelier recommends a wonderfully complex white wine,” the waiter recited. “It’s a newer vintage, but boasts an unusual minerality, with sweet notes of peach and honeysuckle, and a hint of sea salt which balances the flavour beautifully.”

“Perfect,” Gladio said, handing the menu back to him, absolutely unsure of what the waiter had just said. “Ignis?”

“I’ll have the duck confit with the cranberry, orange and cardamom glaze,” Ignis said smartly, as he snapped the leather-bound menu shut (purely for the indulgent satisfaction of the sound of it) and handed it neatly to the waiting waiter.

“Excellent choice,” the waiter agreed, nodding before retreating to put the order in.

“You look … really incredible,” Gladio informed him, once they were alone again, in that indulgent way of his. “If I haven’t said that already.”

“You have,” Ignis replied, a little smugly. Gladio was always full of compliments, and always so genuinely meant that it was difficult to tire of them, even for the most self-effacing. “But I still appreciate the sentiment. And the reminder.”

Gladio grinned, his eyes dropping demurely to the complex spread of cutlery and crockery, and wracking his brain to remember his formal eating etiquette from so long ago. “Do you think the boys have any idea?” he asked, distractedly, his fingers worrying up the length of a champagne flute’s stem.

“Probably not to the degree they think they do,” Ignis replied. “Noctis certainly has an idea, I think.”

“That kid made direct and un-fuck-with-able eye contact with me, I was shocked!” Gladio laughed. “Shit, I honestly have never been scared of him in my life until that moment. That was the most intent I’d ever seen from him since that one time you tried to force him to eat his brussel sprouts when he was ten. Do you remember that?”

The food came, and Gladio had waited until they were both served before tucking in excitedly, the delighted smile on his lips turning strained as the mastication of his mouth slowed to discern the ungodly texture of the sweetbreads on his tongue: spongy, but also a little grainy, with a strange, bitter aftertaste like bile.

“How’s your food?” Ignis asked absently, cutting into his duck, unaware of the personal turmoil in Gladio’s mouth.

Gladio waited a moment, too distracted by the ungodly taste to think of a euphemistic assurance for Ignis’ benefit. “Good,” he lied through gritted teeth, voice strained as he pushed the offending plate away. “Yours?”

“You sound wholly unconvincing,” Ignis pointed out lightly.

“Okay, but what is this texture?” Gladio demanded, leaving off the pretense of being okay about the morsel of hell in his mouth, leaning forward in a conspiratorial stage whisper, like a hiss. “It tastes clotted or rotten, like an over-boiled blood sausage, and then the aftertaste like a colon—”

“You’re eating pancreas,” Ignis supplied helpfully. “It’s an organ. It’s not technically meat, and—”

“I’m going to be ill on myself.”

Ignis laughed, covering his mouth with the heel of his hand in propriety, a peal which devolved into shallow coughs of growing desperation, and then no sound at all as he flailed for Gladio’s attention. “Epi-pen,” he managed to choke out. “Coat. Pocket.”

“Your what?” Gladio asked, jumping up in his panic and rounding the table to paw clumsily at his coat. “Shit.”

His fingers closed about the rigid epinephrine injector, pulling it frantically from the tangle of Ignis’ coat and instinctively tearing the blue safety cap with his teeth, and jamming it hard into Ignis’s thigh. Gladio’s eyes were trained on Ignis’s form, noting, waiting for the anaphylactic shock to abate with the injection.

It was a full few minutes of rubbing his shoulder and back and cooing words of comfort until Ignis seemed to regulate, and Gladio became acutely aware of the audience about them. It seemed all the eyes in the restaurant were on them, raking down their backs with invasive, proprietary inquisition. Gladio could feel the hairs at his neck stand at attention, raised in reflexive defense of him and his, and knew that if he disliked the exposure, Ignis would hate it more. “Come on,” he urged, bending to slip an arm around his waist and pull him up to standing. “Let’s go freshen you up.”

Ignis seemed to sink into his side, the strain of his arm, as Gladio walked him to the quiet of the bathroom’s vestibule, sitting him down in an overstuffed velvet armchair. “Thank you,” he said hoarsely, his breath coming labored still. “I’m allergic to a very specific strain of clove. It’s rare enough that I never think to be wary of it. But cloves are often paired naturally with cardamom, I should have inquired …”

Gladio pulled a disbelieving expression, kneeling at his side. “But you have an epi-pen on hand anyways. Seriously?”

“Precisely,” Ignis replied, with the bright ease of one stating something obvious. “One must be prepared for every eventuality.”

Gladio shook his head. “I’m too baffled to be turned on. But listen.” He laid a heavy hand on Ignis’s knee. “Now that this fancy dinner is obviously a bust, what do you say we take a trip down to the quay and eat some shitty burgers and some corner store wine? It’s no Dorsia, but after this little debacle here, I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.”

A little smile curled at the corner of Ignis’s mouth as he felt Gladio raise his hand to his lips to kiss. “No. That’s perfect. What are we waiting for?”

An hour later, and the two were sitting on the beach with their slacks rolled up to their knees, feet buried like ostrich heads in the sand, eating greasy burgers and taking swigs from the boxed wine like teenagers. The wind sang where it sailed upon the crests of the waves, to caress them like a lover under the inky night sky punctured with stars. It was highly romantic, in Gladio’s opinion, and inspired a particularly affectionate mood in him.

“Ever been skinny dipping?” Gladio asked, a rakish smile on his face that Ignis could not see, but was certain was there by the prodigal cadence of his question.

Ignis turned to him to deliver up the most wry of smiles, wriggling his toes delightedly in the sand at the eventuality of the question waiting to be asked. But still, he played coy. “I think you of all people should know that I have not.”

Gladio laughed, wiping a spot of ketchup from the corner of his mouth and sucking it from his thumb. “First time for everything.”

“No,” Ignis laughed, without reproach. “There isn’t.”

“Fine,” Gladio conceded easily, wiping his hands off and tucking them behind his head as he leaned back in the sand. “Ever play truth or dare?”

“Is your objective to wait until I ask or a dare, and then tell me to go skinny dipping?” Ignis asked pertly, grinning wide at his bold-faced and unabashed tenacity.

“No,” Gladio lied, scoffing loudly in poorly-disguised offense. “Not everything I do is intended to see you naked. At least eighteen percent of my feelings for you are purely idealistic, intellectual admiration.”

Ignis neatly folded his food wrappers and discarded them in the grease-lined paper bag. “You’re a terrible liar and a worse tactician,” he informed him evenly.

“Be nice to me,” Gladio laughed good-naturedly. “I’ve waited a long time for you. I’m used to taking what little I can get.”

Maybe it was pity. Maybe it was the rush of adrenaline malingering in his veins, inciting him to bad decisions without the rashness of thought. “Alright,” Ignis assented, his fingers already undoing the line of buttons on his shirt. “I’ll indulge you. For the occasion.”

Gladio’s eyes grew wide at the flash of collarbone. “Oh shit …”

There was something ephemeral about the way Ignis wore moonlight, and the quintessence of the stars. His pale skin glowed like a cynosure, like some celestial body whose gravity Gladio was impotent to resist. Even if he’d wanted to. “Come here,” Gladio murmured, even as his hands already reached to grasp his slender face with all the care and carefulness he could muster, to pull him into a kiss.

Their skin chilled by the pelagic winds prickled artlessly, and Gladio drew Ignis to him, their bodies flush with one another. Gladio’s broad hand smoothed down the elegant slope of Ignis’s spine, warm and proprietary, and Ignis folded himself against the muscled breadth of Gladio’s frame with a sigh.

But the sigh gave way to a sharp yelp and Ignis was snatched away from him abruptly, hissing with a writhing, flailing pain that kicked up sand and salt as he suddenly scrambled to his feet to escape the wash of the shoreline. The whole occurrence was so uncharacteristically clumsy of him— desperate even— that it had Gladio following in almost the same manner, chasing after Ignis's limping form with frantic haste.

“What’s wrong!” Gladio demanded, reaching out to steady him with an arm around his waist.

“Jellyfish." Ignis's voice was a strained thing seeping out through his teeth in a hiss as his leg buckled and pitched him into the sturdy hold of Gladio's arms. "My leg. Just above the ankle—"

“What?" he blurted, leaning to look. "Are you sure?”

“Seaweed doesn’t quite have the same acerbic affect,” Ignis snapped without meaning to, his fingers a vice on Gladio’s wrist. He tested his weight on the leg again and the failure of the attempt only heightened the inconsolable edge in his voice. “Gladio, do something!”

The lights of the Emergency Room were unforgiving, ascetic and harsh, casting long, sharp shadows and a preternatural sallow to their skin. Not the first place Gladio would have thought this anniversary date might have ended up, or even the last. And for someone who prided himself on being really fucking good at the art of spoiling a date (as in pampering one), more than just his pride and Ignis’s leg was wounded.

“I’m sorry our anniversary dinner was literally the worst,” Gladio confided quietly.

“You should be,” Ignis said smartly, affecting a brightly clipped tone that he was sure would denote his facetiousness. “I fear this might be indicative of exactly how flawed our relationship is, and I can’t understand how stupendously you failed in your efforts to commemorate our anniversary with something momentous.”

Gladio said nothing, and Ignis grinned as he imagined the abject horror on his face, mouth gaping like a floundering carp.

“I’m kidding, Gladio,” he assured him with a laugh, turning his palm up where it rested on his thigh, and which Gladio grasped like a man drowning to a lifeline, threading his fingers within his and holding on for dear life. “If anything, I’m glad for it. I think it’s a testament to the mettle of our relationship, that we could handle hardships the way we did. It’s easy, to get along. In a sense, at least. Relationships are easy when nothing at all goes wrong. Thus far we’ve never allowed anything to mar our happiness. And while it wasn’t the most harrowing of experiences—no death or financial ruin to speak of— I do appreciate your willingness to stab me with a needle and try to make me laugh after. I’ve never had anyone look after me before, and never would I have dreamed anyone would do so so wholly and holistically.”

He leaned back against the steadying warmth of Gladio’s chest. “If I didn’t love you then, I’m fairly certain I love you now. Irrevocably so.”

It had been the first time since they’d dated that Ignis had said those words to him. They’d been friends for so long that Ignis had had occasion to tell him so, but in a purely platonic sense: a reflexive response when Gladio would thank him for something with a pat on the shoulder and an off-handed ‘love you, man,’ or those many nights he’d indulge Gladio’s inebriate enthusiasms and slurred words, coupled with too-familiar cheek nuzzlings. Those instances had never waned in their frequencies, but there was an obvious reticence between them, a palpable precaution to the way they were conscious never to say those loaded words, now that they had different meaning. But Gladio was always sure he loved Ignis, in every rare and rarified form. And to hear that reciprocated from the man he’d loved for all his life was nothing less than a beautiful devastation.

“You have the worst romantic timing I’ve ever witnessed,” Gladio laughed, kissing just behind Ignis’s ear. “At least I attempted a lead up here.”

“Then you're to blame for the jellyfish,” Ignis quipped, and pointed to his wounded leg. “And the fact that I smell like an indigent’s trash bin.”

Gladio’s lips pursed then rolled as he bit back a rueful smile. “I’m to blame for us even being together, you wanna hold that against me too?”

“I’d rather hold other things against you, given the option,” Ignis replied pertly.

“Aw no, you can’t break out innuendos here,” Gladio laughed, circling an arm around Ignis’s shoulder. “I’m weak, you know this. And now I only want to take you home harder.”

“That sounds like a capital idea,” Ignis said softly, turning his face into the hollow of Gladio’s cheek and kissing there. “I can’t think of another place I’d rather be.”

#gladnis #gladnis week #day 3 #Gladio and Ignis get tricked by Prompto and Noct into going on a date #IM LATE #like a real asshole

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