#ill answer the other ask soon! that one just takes a lot more thought collection to make it even semi readable
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
heya! i also saw your tag about aro maria and ace natasha. i'm very fascinated about that. what's some of your takes on that dynamic? i've personally leaned towards ace/aspec, but it's always interesting to me when someone who identifies along there but more into sex or adverse to romance. just shows how diverse that spectrum is!
This is such a fun question and I'm going to preface it by saying these HCs are purely based on vibes and my own projection as someone on the aroace spec. I like to play around with their sexualities a lot bc it makes for interesting dynamics, but I'll stick to my thoughts about them being aspec for now haha. I can't promise this will be coherent and make sense but I'll try my best!
This got pretty long, so I'll put the rest of this essay under the cut:
A lot of my opinions of marvel characters are influenced by the comics, especially for Maria since we were given so little of her in the MCU. She has an interesting vibe to her that just... sort of screams being entirely uninterested in anything romantic. She's a very private person anyway, but never expresses interest in wanting romance, but she still wants so desperately to keep those she cares about safe. It's not that she doesn't care, because she does, a WHOLE lot. She just cares about everyone in a very platonic, dutiful way. And yet, somehow, she gives off the biggest lesbian vibes in the world. Therefore, aromantic lesbian. It also somehow just makes sense to me that casual physical relationships would be easier for her to keep as a crucial member of an international secret organisation. Outside of her own team who is she going to date? She goes to a nice bar and she drinks a scotch and she waits for the nearest femme to take her home only to disappear in the middle of the night. Satisfy some urges, and prove to herself that she isn't an evil monster to the naked eye, two birds one stone. There's no real evidence to her having any sexual relationships (that i can think of anyway) but the vibes just sort of work to me, or at least that she would have them. Sometimes i think she's too much of a loser to ever actually go home with anyone. So, in that respect, I can also see her as being aroace too. She just generally has more important things to worry about and isn't necessarily interested in things she deems so personal and unimportant.
I wish I could beam the vibes in my head directly to you because I'm doing a terrible job of explaining them with words, but generally Maria comes off as a very cold character who actually cares very deeply about those around her and that can hit home for a lot of aspec misconceptions and stereotypes. As far as I know, she's never been in a relationship either, which for marvel comics is practically an olympic feat. In one comic she says Natasha is the person she trusts most in the world because shes lonely too, and that shes the only person that scares her. what is that if not lesbianism aspec solidarity
As for Natasha, well we all know what her past is like, and I don't think it's a stretch to say that she might have some trauma around it. But honestly I just like to think she would always be asexual bc it's fun. She's really the character I have less evidence for, but I'm a sucker for the trope of a character who is sexualised by everyone around her actually being a big softy who would rather cuddle. That woman could count on her hands how many times she's been hugged in her life, I think she'd truly get the most out of a relationship where she is shown innocent affection. She's been treated as a physical asset her entire life and I think she deserves to be wined and dined outside of that. Maybe its just me trying to break her free and projecting at the same time but let that woman be the little spoon.
IDK man, she just gives me vibes. She's a cutie. She's a hopeless romantic thrown into a world of people that think she's hot. She's been forced to live up to a role that feels like an act, and is only able to play it so well because none of it has felt real from the start. Sexuality has always been a game, and she's so good at playing because she's always been outside of it. The second someone shows her genuine romance she doesn't know what to do with herself. She likes to give people flowers.
In terms of dynamics together, I don't actually tend to mix them together in this way, I usually pick one or the other because the fic is focussed on them having a functional relationship. I do, however, think Maria would be very accomodating of Natasha if they were in a relationship with this specific dynamic, because as characters they have a very similar need of wanting to be loved for who they are as a person. And to Maria any sexual drive is always going to be second to a real human connection for the first time in her life.
Honestly, the dynamic should be great for angst but I can't find a way to make it work because theyre very similar characters to me. Even if Natasha needs someone to love her whole heartedly for herself, someone to love her innocently outside of her body, Maria is still going to give that to her. It might not be romantically, but she is desperate for human connection anyway. The worst I can think of is that Maria becomes frustrated with the fact that Natasha wants more from her, whilst not being able to tell her the full extent of her own attraction, so theyre both stuck at a bit of a stalemate. Suffering in silence through their friendship because they both want something the other isnt able to give and both of them are too soft hearted to ever force it
I think that's about all that I've got in the tank right now, so I hope that answered some of the curiosities you had! Let me know if you have any more specific questions, because i'm always happy to talk about them :)
#ill answer the other ask soon! that one just takes a lot more thought collection to make it even semi readable#i hope this makes any sense but unfortuantely it is literally entirely vibes when it comes to sexuality HCs#ramblings#answers#maria hill#natasha romanoff#blackhill
15 notes
·
View notes
Note
hiii i just breezed through that slutty drarry reclist wheww you’re doing god’s work what a wonderful list!!!! i see you’re getting a lot of asks lately so feel free to answer this (or not!!) whenever you feel like it, but i was wondering if you knew of any fics where harry gives up his slutty lifestyle for draco, sort of like “harry potter gives a shit” by talithan. i would prefer if it was harry but the vice versa is also fine! we’re so lucky to have you in this fandom and i feel grateful every time i see your posts on my dash, thank you so much for everything!!! <3
Hello my friend! Love that for us, I’ve had lots of fun putting that slutty reclist together and am always happy to find taste twins when it comes to smut 😏 personally I’ve been more into open relationships lately but you might enjoy these fics where either Harry or Draco have casual sex before getting together:
Harry:
Amber by @slytherco (E, 4.7k)
Despite his numerous flings, Harry's thoughts keep circling back to Draco, only half-aware of his perpetual draw where they're not strangers, not-quite friends, but definitely something. When they both get played by the same person, Harry and Draco find a way to get back at him, and maybe get something extra out of it as a result.
100 Beats per Minute by @oknowkiss (E, 14k)
When Draco left the Magical World behind at nineteen, he didn't expect the cusp of thirty would find him comfortable and secure, with a stable life and a successful career as a sex columnist.
Five Weddings and a Potions Accident by lauren3210 (E, 19k)
In which Harry thinks he’s a playboy, everyone else knows better, and Hermione will kill Seamus if Ron tries to collect on that bet.
Famous by @fw00shy (E, 24k)
It's a couple of years after the war, and Harry's bored of models now, the same way he's bored of Ron's constant nagging, bored of his Weasley monogram knitwear, bored of the same fucking grin that greets him when he hands his fire-truck red Bugatti over to the valet every night. He wants to find—well, he isn't sure what he wants. Anything but models.
Terrible People by wolfpants (E, 53k)
What happens when Harry and Draco end up on the same Muggle gay cruise? They certainly didn't plan for it to happen (but their friends might have). They're stuck with each other for a week, they might as well make the most of it, right? Featuring a holiday-long game of Truth or Dare, a very ill-judged FWB proposition, decades-long pining, lots of gin, and a small pair of green swimming trunks.
A Secondary Education by Thunderbird587 (E, 234k)
Fleeing the aftermath of his recent divorce, Draco Malfoy takes up a post as the new Potions Master at Hogwarts. At first he believes his hopes for a fresh start are dashed when he sees that a certain boyhood rival is on staff there as well. But Harry Potter is being weirdly nice to him, leaving Draco no choice but to play along.
Draco:
Hourglass Heart by @bixgirl1 (E, 5k)
It only happened once — depending on how Harry counted.
Death Dreams by @writcraft (E, 9.5k)
Draco likes to keep things casual, or at least he did before Harry Potter barged back into his life.
Keep your hands on me by @tenthousandyearsx (E, 21k)
Malfoy binds himself with a sex curse. Harry cannot get enough (but would much prefer to keep Malfoy for himself).
The Things We Need by @Kbrick (E, 25k) - established Drarry, polyamory
Three hundred and fifty-three days out of the year, Harry is in a monogamous, fufilling relationship with Draco Malfoy. Then there are the other twelve days.
I Bet That You Look Good on the Dancefloor by birdsofshore (E, 28k)
Harry felt lit up from inside as soon as he entered the bar. There were blokes dancing together, their bodies close to one another, not keeping a wary distance as Harry was always careful to do when he was near another man. God, he wanted this – wanted it so much he could taste it, a metallic tang of heat and desire. He suspected nothing would ever be the same again – especially when he saw who else was in the room.
64 notes
·
View notes
Note
hello ~ hello ~
Hope you're feeling better! I, personally, have been a bit dead to the world since late April. This past May was kinda odd, honestly. I think everyone I know and know of just. died for the month. Collectively. At once.
I actually wanted to slide in here and pick your brain about your ongoing Monster Mayhem stuff, if you're up for it? Just like a general status overview question, since I feel kinda out of the loop 😭 And also because I know that I tend to like talking about my feelings on my current wips, so I figured maybe you might too? If not, dw!
I'll put these in bullet points since it's kinda easier for me to organize my thoughts that way
Jack: I remember you saying awhile back that you expect Part 2 to be the final part. Is that still holding up, or does it feel like it'll be longer?
Rook: From the pacing, I'm getting the vibe that this one might be another 4 part story? mayhaps? Or maybe Rook isn't like the other girls TM and gets something different.
Vil: I haven't read this one yet, but I'm excited to sit down with it soon! What's the overall length/number of parts you're planning for at the moment?
I'm pretty sure this was asked at some point before, but what's your stance on epilogues? There has been... discussion. about a Leona epilogue before, I recall, but are you considering epilogues for all of them, or only specific characters?
What's like. your vibe, rn? With each of the stories? Like in terms of "I'm really feeling this, so I'm working on it and it might be posted in the nearish future, assuming no disasters" to like "I plan to continue this, but not rn. I've got a different worm chewing on the brain lettuce atm". Ik you literally just answered an ask similar to this, and said Leona part 4 & Vil part 2 are the one's you're focused on, so I guess this is more so geared towards the Jack and Rook ones? Or other stuff you're secretly planning. I have a vague memory of a "forgot your birthday" scenario that was on a poll a few months back
I'm honestly just curious, really. Back from the dead and wanted to catch up
Also I. have a third Monster Mayhem Azul brainrot. It's not a fluffy one. If I can wrangle it into something more coherent, I may send it your way. Not dissimilar to the fashion of throwing a pebble at someone's window to get their attention, but accidentally putting a hole through the glass, and taking off running.
-Reaper
I'm gonna put this all under a little cut thing just because I feel like there's quite a lot! So here we go~
Jack -- It would still only be two parts I think! I only had short plans for that going forward, and it's currently at the bottom of my bucket list so to speak, not for any big reason just because Jack isn't one of my favorites so he falls behind on what I actually want to write.
Rook -- Was a bit more up in the air in terms of what I wanted to do. Had started writing a third part for it, but Rook's in particular felt very like, episodic? If that makes sense? Rather than an overarching cohesive arc. So I could write so much more little random side stories! But aside from a bit I had sort of planned regarding Riddle, there wasn't too much specific I had in mind.
Vil -- Probably one or two more parts to wrap up what I wanted with him; most likely one of the same length as the first. But that one of all of them may get a separate little piece because I am such a sucker for mermaids/sirens soooo that may get some special love
Epilogues -- bit of a mish mash. Really depends how I'm feeling tbh. If I want to write something, I'll word vomit like no one's business, but if I'm not overly invested then I probably won't bother writing one. But again
Vibe Check -- I’m absolutely wiped. Not with these stories, because I do genuinely love them. But like, back to back tough placements on top of illness is a trip. So I’m a bit more tired and less motivated than I normally am, just because most of my brain is chewing on actual school work and case reports and trying to not make myself look like an idiot every time I’m asked for a diagnosis list and go “uuuuhhhhhhhh.” But! I have some brain worms. Right now — big thing I’m working on is the second half of a very long commission. Which is loads of fun but also there’s so much to chew over there, so that takes a lot of my brain. On the side, I was really also writing my Vil Siren Part 2. Because that’s also a lot on the brain and it’s very different Vibe to the commission, so like it’s a good one to go back and forth between depending on what mood I’m in. Jamil is also very On My Brain right now oddly enough. I think because I read a short little Naga piece a while ago and it reminded me how much I love them. So that's on my brain a lot. As for the others, Jack has sorta fallen to the wayside admittedly. Mostly because I adore him as a Bro, but he’d just not usually a character my brain swoons over, so he’s sort of just… existing. I also wasn’t entirely sure where I wanted to go with that other than just “oh wow we fixed it together!” And that’s a factor too. As for other things, the birthday one comes back and forth depending on my mood, but idk if that’ll ever go up. I have lots of it written, but not enough to post or really toss together straight away. If that makes sense
35 notes
·
View notes
Note
another ask mentioned sickness and now the gears are turning. how would scar deal with sickness during tcd? like, it's not the undead disease, just a common illness. it starts out with a sore throat as it always does, and he's immediately afraid. shit. he hadn't thought about what he'd do if he got sick before. he'd sort of been running around the snowy plains for a while now, he's lost track of time, and running with his mouth open in the cold air probably didn't do him any favours. but he tries to ignore it, it's fine. maybe he's just having a bad morning, it happens.
But it doesnt get better, and by the end of the day he has a slight cough, and by the next morning he wakes up with a headache. he tries to wait it out until it passes and goes back outside because he needs to look for resources, there is no time for taking a break during the apocalypse. he has to keep working. but that only makes it worse and turns it into a full on fever.
he's bed ridden within the next couple days and he's freezing because he has no bed. his 'room' is a rather unsheltered part of his base, higher up in the air where the wind blew more harshly, with low walls that don't insulate well unless he's pressed up right against the wall. the wall is cold, but at least the wind can't reach him there. he can't even go down to look through his supplies for medicine, he isnt sure if he even has medicine for illness. he doesn't remember seeing any, only bandages and blood packs. that probably was an oversight when his mind his occupied survival against zombies.
the nights are scary. having spent the whole day bundled up in spare material and bags, tossing and turning, he can't sleep, and he hears the zombies groaning over the wind. they can smell human but can't find him. hopefully. by everything good left in this world, he hopes they can't find him. did he block the dirt back up at the entrance? surely he did. he'd be dead already if he hadn't. surely.
as soon as he feels better, that's when he revamps the entrance to jump over and sets up a lot more barbed wire.
it takes him a while to recover, with no healthy conditions or medication, his body fights it back on its own. these few times he got sick during the apocalypse helped him develop a pretty good immune system, but he still fears getting sick even after tcd. when he feels a sore throat coming up, he immediately panics, trying to think whether he'd just talked too much or yelled too much, he doesn't know. he immediately makes sure he has everything he needs in his base: tones of blankets, tones of water, food, comfort foods as well, heat, closed doors and any other possible entrance. he isolates himself for those few days of being sick as a habit, even if it's just a cold. and the isolation only reminds him of the solitude during the apocalypse even more, and brings him back. when he struggles to sleep at night, the groaning outside sets his heart racing.
[other hermits probably learn a bit about scar's habits regarding him being sick and try to come around his place if he's been gone for a day or two, to make sure he's okay. they come knocking, and don't know how similar it sounds to broken knuckles pounding against rotting wood.]
Oh my god. The hermits trying to help and come over to check up on Scar only to make him feel worse- only to help him remember the awful days where he had no one but the zombies for company.
Okay imagine one day, Scar feels that he's gonna be sick- he starts gathering his supplies, he's all anxious, running around collecting stuff and someone notices.
They ask him what's wrong? Does he need any help? And Scar just tells them he's gonna be fine.
And maybe the hermit presses on and Scar admits he thinks he's gonna he sick.
"So what's will all this running around? Shouldn't you be resting?"
And Scar doesn't know how to answer. How does he explain that he has to be prepared? How does he explain that he still fears the zombies will come for him when he's most vulnerable-
The hermit offers to help.
And for the first time in forever, Scar has someone there to look after him. Someone there to help him and calm him down and give him warm tea.
And Scar cries because he doesn't think he's ever been taken care of like this.
#and after that the hermit makes scar promise to tell someone when he feels suck#sick#and scar agrees#it takes some time but eventually he gets there. and he asks for help when he needs it#asks#stiff talk#im giving you all some comfort here#gtws#tcd scar#goodtimeswithscar
38 notes
·
View notes
Note
hii a longg while back I had sent a long ask about how much I enjoyed the answer and had asked about what other cults/writing/media had inspired you when developing the storyline and its characters. In your response you had recommended a list of books that you enjoy/inspire you and I just wanted to share that I bought two of the books you recommended:) The Secret History by Donna Tartt and The Long Walk by Stephen King. It was so exciting and I thought of you as soon as I saw them at Barnes and Noble lol. It meant so much that you replied and recommended some great books because I really do enjoy your work and reading about how you come up with stuff when you write. This is so silly but I got so excited and wanted to tell you haha. You inspired me to start my book collection!! If you have any more recommendations please feel free to share if you would like🫶 I hope you have a great weekend!
OMG!!!!!!! im literally honored seriously this is so awesome !!! i really hope you enjoy the books and pls lmk what you think after you read them :] im actually touched for real thinking about you thinking about me hehehe <33 putting a read more before more recs !!! hehe
im gonna be so real with you i REMEMBER answering your ask and i remember giving some recs but i have scoured my blog (as well as i can w tumblrs shitty search mechanism) and i cannot find it to save my LIFEEEE so ill give some more recommendations but pls forgive me if i repeat a couple bc i cannot remember ... what i said ... LOLLL
so in no particular order here are some more books !! hehe
a canticle for liebowitz by walter miller jr (this book is from 1959 but its actually so funny and the vibes are immaculate)
the langoliers by stephen king (technically a novella but tell me why i have an urge to write an au like this LMAO)
giovanni's room by james baldwin (not like other books i recommend but very good)
chaos by tom o'neill (if you feel like learning about charles manson and the corruptness of the us government)
people who eat darkness by richard parry (if you feel like learning about a japanese serial rapist)
(this one is controversial but. we're adults.) a mother's reckoning by sue klebold (if you feel like learning about the columbine school shooting from one of the shooters' mothers' perspectives)
i probably recommended this BUT if you find yourself really liking stephen king (or even moderately liking him lol) i would. H I G H L Y highly recommend the dark tower series. it is amazing and incredible and i loved every second i spent reading it.
im gonna be so honest rn. i read the entire acotar series. do i think they're good books. no. but did i enjoy reading them and laughing at sarah j maas's writing style. yes. so [shrug].
and to finish i am currently reading dune (like everyone else) and its quite good along with a clash of kings which is. game of thrones. so. hard to read but fun.
but yeah !!!! thank you so much for thinking of me and taking my recommendations hehe it really means a lot !! like i said pls lmk what you think of the two that you got bc those are truly some of my favorite books ever :] <3
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Succession Chapter 1 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fic
Here is chapter one of my new fanfic!
Title: Succession
Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader, OCs
Rating: PG-13 for language and intense scenes (for now, this is a slow burn, but it will get very hot and spicy in later chapters)
Summary: You discover a long lost relative from Moldova that you didn’t know existed has died and you are his sole beneficiary. You are on board a plane to collect your inheritance when your plane crashes in a village in Romania.
Author’s Notes: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village. This is a work of fiction. Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.
Chapter 1
The music blasted from the car speakers as you drove down the main road towards the highway. You had your phone plugged into your car stereo, your favorite Spotify playlist on shuffle. Despite the A/C being on full blast, beads of sweat formed at your brow and rolled down your temple. You adjusted the vents on either side of you, making sure the cold air directly hit your body. The song that was playing had you tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, your head bopping to the beat.
The fridge at home was close to empty and it was beyond time for you to go grocery shopping. The grocery list was secure in your purse and you were determined to stick to the items on the list and not make any frivolous purchases. Money was tight and you only had so much money left before payday next week.
The song shut off suddenly followed by your ringtone. Looking at the screen of your phone, UNKNOWN stared back at you. Probably a spam call, you thought to yourself, reaching to press the red Ignore button. Unfortunately, your finger slid at the last minute and mistakenly tapped the Accept button. You watched as the call came through and the seconds ticked off. FUCK!
“Hello?” you greeted with a hint of exasperation in your voice.
“Hello, am I speaking with Miss Y/N?” a heavily accented male voice responded.
“Yeah, this is she,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. You tried your best to avoid these calls, ignoring them and letting them go straight to voicemail. Very rarely was it followed with an actual message, which was more than fine with you.
“Miss Y/N, my name is Ron M. Dathermi. I am a lawyer residing in Chisinau, Moldova in Eastern Europe…”
You raised your eyebrows at that. Moldova? Who the hell was calling you from Moldova? Chalking it up to a scam, you were about to interrupt the man when he continued.
“...I wish I was calling under better circumstances, but I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your great uncle, Serghei Popa, has passed away from a short illness and has named you his sole beneficiary…”
You couldn’t help the amused huff that came out of your mouth. This must be some very elaborate scam.
“Umm...sorry, but I think you have the wrong person. I don’t have family from Moldova and I have never heard of this man in my whole life.” You were about to hit the End button when Mr. Dathermi continued.
“Am I speaking with Y/N, born on (your birthday) to (your father and mother’s full names) and the granddaughter of (your grandfather and grandmother on both sides of your family)?”
Your eyes widened at that. “Yeah, that’s me…” you answered.
“I know this may sound unusual, but Mr. Popa was the brother of your grandmother on your mother’s side. He was given up for adoption at birth and taken in by a Moldovan family. He did not have a spouse and had no children, and according to the genealogy report I have before me, your grandmother and your mother are both deceased. Your mother was an only child, yes? It appears to me that you are the last of his living relatives.”
You pulled off the road and into an empty parking lot. The information you were being given was a lot to handle. You didn’t have that large of a family. You were an only child and raised by your parents and both sets of grandparents. Both of your grandfathers had died before you turned 10. Both grandmothers died within 5 years of each other and your father and mother died of illnesses, cancer and pneumonia respectively, in the last year. Grief was a feeling that you knew better than anyone. You kept to yourself mostly and you didn’t have any close friends or a significant other.
“Listen,” you began, “you are correct about all of your information, but how do I know this is not some kind of scam?”
The man on the other end of the phone cleared his throat and the sound of shuffling papers met your ears. “I can imagine that this information is sudden and unusual. What I will do is send a copy of his will and a copy of the genealogy papers to your address. I encourage you to take this to your lawyer and have them look over the information. The reason I am calling is because I need you to fly to Moldova, sign these papers, and accept the monetary inheritance that he has left you.”
Your jaw dropped as you looked down at your phone. Fly to Moldova? Is this true? The only thing you knew about the country was that a foreign exchange student from high school was born and raised in Moldova. That about sums up your knowledge of the country. This seemed incredibly asinine and ridiculous. But the word that settled in your train of thought was “inheritance.” What inheritance?
“Mr...what was your name again?” you asked.
“Mr. Dathermi, but you can call me Ron,” the lawyer responded.
“Ron...umm, how much monetary inheritance are we talking about?”
More shuffling of papers was on the other side of the phone, Ron clicking his tongue as he looked through the information. “He has left you 53,806,746 Moldovan Leu...which translates to $3,000,000 in American currency.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!?!” you exclaimed before clamping your lips shut. You heard Ron chuckle. “I’m sorry, pardon my language. It’s just...wow...this sounds insane…”
“I can imagine it does,” Ron replied, “which is why I want to mail this information to you and have your attorney take a look at it so you know this is a legitimate will and testament. If you would like, I can mail the information straight to your attorney if you are still leery.”
“No, no, that’s okay,” you said, shaking your head. Your mind was whirling. None of this sounded remotely true. You felt as if you were dreaming. This felt like something that only happened in books and fairy tales...a girl who had nothing and nobody suddenly inheriting millions of dollars from an unknown distant relative. What are the odds of something like this happening in real life? You gave Ron Dathermi your home address.
“Thank you very much, Miss Y/N. I will send this as soon as possible. I’ll also include my business card so your attorney can contact me and we can iron out the details. Thank you very much, Y/N...I’ll be in touch.”
You thanked him as well and ended the call. All alone in your car in the empty parking lot, you let out an excited squeal and started hopping up and down.
*
You adjusted the messenger bag that was slung across your shoulder as you heard the overhead speaker call for the boarding of your flight. Taking a deep breath, you got in line, extended your ticket to the airport employee, and walked down the tarmac and into the plane.
Butterflies were fluttering in your stomach. Your hands gripped your bag tightly as the flight attendant looked at your boarding pass and pointed down the aisle to where you were to be seated. You had never flown before and your nerves were on alert. Scenes from Final Destination flashed in your head as you walked down the aisle towards your seat. Taking a deep breath and willing your body to relax, you located your seat next to the window and sat down, plopping your bag onto your lap.
The small window was close to the wing of the plane and looking beyond that was a long expanse of grass that met a vast forest. You were thankful that you had the window seat and your headphones so you could tune everything out and relax in your own little world.
Once the papers from Mr. Dathermi arrived a week prior, you immediately called the attorney that helped you with the probate and will from your parents’ deaths several months back. He was more than happy to help, knowing that you were all alone in the world after your parents had passed. Two days later, he called to inform you that all of the paperwork was, in fact, legitimate and that Mr. Serghei Popa was the brother of your grandmother. He showed you the adoption papers, confirming that your great uncle had been put up for adoption and the family that took him in had relocated to Moldova when he was two years old. He had remained in the country until his death. Your attorney contacted Mr. Dathermi, who in turn secured a round trip plane ticket in order for you to come to Moldova to finalize the paperwork and collect the inheritance.
At the thought of the money you were about to acquire, another surge of excitement flowed through you. Your parents hadn’t left you much after their death and you worked at a dead-end job that had no room for advancement and no possibility for raises. All of these recent events sounded like something out of a fairy tale.
“This is your captain speaking,” the voice sounded from the speaker above your head, “we will be departing in the next ten minutes. Please make sure your seatbelts are secured, your tray tables are up, and all electronics are off until we are at the appropriate cruising altitude. I will inform everyone as soon as the coast is clear. Thank you for flying with us and enjoy the ride.”
You fastened your seatbelt and laid your head back, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.
“Don’t be nervous…” a voice sounded next to you. You opened your eyes and looked over to see an older gentleman with wide rimmed glasses and a nice smile.
“Is it that obvious?” you asked, returning his smile.
“It’s pretty obvious,” he chuckled, “my name is Bruce Williams. I’m the air marshal on board this flight.” You told him your name and shook his hand. “Just relax,” he assured, “we’ll be flying for the next 10 hours. There are lots of movies and tv shows to watch on the screen in front of you, or you can listen to your music and read a book if you brought one.”
You patted your messenger bag. “Yeah, I have a few books to choose from. Thanks,” you smiled.
Within minutes, the plane had backed away from the tarmac, turned towards the long expanse of runway, and increased speed before leaving the ground and soaring up into the clouds.
*
The steady hum of the plane’s engines provided a relaxed soundtrack as you slept. It was close to early morning, according to the clock on the tv screen, but your watch was still on your regular time zone. It read early afternoon and that threw you through a loop. You had heard that jet lag could be a bitch and you wondered how bad yours would be once you landed. Bruce had passed you a pillow and blanket once you were ready to sleep and he assured you that your bag and belongings would be safe while you slept.
You were so thankful to be seated next to him. Not only was he the air marshal, but he was a really cool person as well. You two talked about movies and actually watched a couple of them on the tv screen in front of you. Bruce was kind and nice to talk to. The crinkle of crow’s feet around his eyes, his laugh, and his hair color mixed with hints of gray reminded you of your father...maybe that’s why you liked him so much.
You shifted in your seat and let out a soft yawn. Stretching your arms above your head and arching your back, you wondered how much longer it would be until you touched down in Moldova.
“You weren’t asleep that long,” Bruce murmured. You looked over to see a book in his hand and his glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom and then go back to sleep,” you replied, standing from your seat. Bruce stood up and allowed you out into the aisle. You made your way to the bathroom towards the back of the plane. The cabin was dark with little lights dotting either side of the aisle on the floor. Soft lights were shining here and there from people reading, watching the tv screen, or messing with their phones while most of the passengers were asleep.
Once in the bathroom, you did your business, flushed the toilet, and began washing your hands. The mirror in front of you showed a tired and weary version of yourself. Some of your eye makeup was smudged. You told yourself once you returned back to your seat, you’d retrieve the makeup remover wipes in your bag and do away with the dirt and oil.
Just then the plane hit an air pocket and dropped several feet, throwing you forward towards the sink and mirror. You let out a shriek as the plane quieted and went still. “God dammit,” you muttered, putting your hand over your heart, “that scared the shit out of me!”
Once out of the bathroom, you slammed the door shut and walked back to your seat. You tapped Bruce on the shoulder and he moved aside.
You lifted the window shade and looked outside. Natural light from the start of the day began to show. The plane was amongst the clouds so it was fairly cloudy and hard to see.
“How much farther do we have?” you asked Bruce. He shifted the book to his left hand and looked down at his wristwatch. “We should be there in three hours. I think we are flying over Romania right now…”
You nodded your head and thanked him, turning back to the window. The clouds gave way momentarily and provided the opportunity to see the ground below. Tall, snowy mountains came into view. You smiled and marveled at their beauty, wondering what mountain range this was. You cursed yourself for forgetting the basics from your World Geography class in high school. Hell, all you knew about Romania was that it was the setting for Dracula and the real life territory that was once owned by Elizabeth Bathory, who allegedly killed upwards of 650 maidens and bathed in their blood. You shook your head and smiled to yourself. You really did enjoy some morbid and fucked up stories.
Your train of thought stopped short when a large and spacious castle came into view. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. It looked like something out of a Disney movie or from ancient castles that still sat throughout Europe. The place looked like it stood on several acres of land and who knows how many square feet. What a gorgeous and breathtaking place it was. You wondered just what was inside a monstrosity like that and who was lucky enough to inhabit such a place. Maybe there were castles in Moldova that you could explore and visit while you’re conducting your business.
The castle fell out of view and not far from it stood what looked like a village. You were too high up to see any people or any traces of lights or torches. You took everything in with total awe and appreciation. It looked like a small and sleepy storybook town.
A sudden movement close to the village caught your attention. You squinted your eyes and tried to look closer, pressing your forehead to the window. What the fuck is that, you wondered. It looked like a black tree, naked of leaves or any type of growth...and it was moving. It looked to be swaying in the breeze, but the size of it looked way too sturdy for any kind of gust to move it with such fluidity. As you focused on the tree, it appeared to be growing...getting closer to the plane. Was the plane descending? Were you getting closer to Moldova?
One of the branches of the tree slowly drifted to the ground before extending long and rigid, slinging itself up into the air like a bullwhip, hitting the wing of the plane. The plane suddenly tilted as the slithering limb wrapped around the wing and broke it off. You let out a loud scream as the plane turned on its side, Bruce falling against you, squishing you to the wall. “WHAT THE FUCK??” Bruce screamed as yelps, shrieks, and screams echoed in the cabin of the plane. Dozens of people were knocked from their seats, flight attendants falling into the aisle and rolling towards the cockpit. The plane shook and quaked as it dropped several feet in a matter of seconds.
“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!” you screamed, grabbing hold of Bruce’s arm. The air masks dropped from overhead and Bruce grabbed yours, making quick work of putting it over your face. “HOLD ON TO IT! HOLD IT OVER YOUR MOUTH, Y/N!!” he commanded, reaching for his own mask.
“THE WING OF THE PLANE HAS BEEN DAMAGED!” the pilot yelled from over the speakers, “WE ARE LOSING ALTITUDE! BRACE FOR IMPACT!” People screamed and panicked, holding on to whatever it was they could. Panic surged through your body as your fingers dug into Bruce’s arm. The plane shook as it fell. Your stomach dropped and it felt as if you were seconds from impact. You looked out the window one last time before the ground came into view and everything went black.
*
He leaned over the body on the metal table in the lab of his factory. He fastened the bolts with a wrench and tested the strength of the metal against the rotting flesh. A soft horn sounded in the distance along with the various turns of chains and clangs of steel against steel. He wiped the sweat off his brow and walked to his desk, looking over the blueprints and sketches he had devised the previous day.
Despite the different array of sounds, nothing could mask the loud crash that sounded off in the distance. He lifted his head, silently trying to figure out what the fuck made that noise. Leaving the body laying on the table, he exited his lab and made his way down the stairs and to the factory doors.
With a grunt, he slid the doors aside and looked off into the distance. Black smoke billowed from an area that looked to be close to the village. Other than the crows squawking and flapping their wings in retreat, everything was dead quiet. He looked off to the right just in time to see the long, spindly limbs of mold retreating back towards the earth. Karl Heisenberg’s face tightened in a disgusted grimace.
“Mother Miranda...what have you done?”
#resident evil village#resident evil village fanfic#karl heisenberg#karl heisenburg x reader#daddy heisenberg#house heisenberg#heisenberg#karl heisenberg fanfic
316 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi !
How are you doing ? ^^
Can I request something angsty but maybe (if possible) with an happy ending for whoever you want ?
My idea was that their crush has hanahaki (because they think they don't love them)
I'm sorry, I don't really know how to explain the idea clearly ^^"
I hope you will have a nice day ! :3
I can totally do that for you! :3 I'll write for Red because that's my boy =w= But if you want someone else, feel free to request again! Hope I did it right! ;w;/ I may have gone overboard ;; Reader x Redd - with Hanahaki TW: Medical stuff, illness things, hospitals, angst, no proof reading oops, and swearing You plucked away a last petal from your shoulder, as you returned your gaze to the mirror, looking yourself over for a moment. Of all the people for you to fall for, it had to be him. When the monsters started to come from the underground, you never thought you'd be friends with them, let alone had fallen so head over heels for one of them. But something about this bone boy really got to you. Despite the rough and tough personality he put up, you could see who he was truly. But that's why you knew they wouldn't be interested in you. How could a monster be in love with a human? You looked your face over for a moment more in the mirror, your hands gripping the sink tightly. Once you felt that you had gathered yourself enough to be around others, you sighed and pushed off the sink, giving the mirror a last glance on your way out the bathroom door. Once you entered the living room, a pair of sockets shifted to look at you, as Red's constant smile seemed to grow more at your sight. "Was starting to worry ya fell in the toilet." He teased, his sockets shifting back to the video game he was play, that you had brought over to play with him. You simply forced a smile, that you wore well to block out any prying questions about how you had been, despite the fact your features has slowly worsen over time. Your body finally giving way to display how sickly you had been feeling as of late. You gave the other a soft chuckle and shifted to sit back in your spot next to him in the floor. "Where's your brother?" You asked, peeking over your shoulder, where the taller skeleton monster had been when you left. But it simply earned a shrug from Red, not even looking up from his game. "Didn't ask, he just said he had ta go." He gave a chuckle and shifted a socket to you again. "You know how he gets." You returned a chuckle, the smile you forced felt as constant as the skeletons smile. But you think your cheek muscles were making you have less of an advantage in that department. Your face hurt from smiling. Your body hurt from breath. And being around him just made it worse, you could feel your body react the second you're around him. It felt like you were dying slowly next to him, but that was okay. At least it would be next to him. Lost in your thought, your vision blurred, not even hearing Red as he starts to talk about the game. Your frame wobbled softly in it's spot as the room danced around you, just to swirl into a never ending blackness. You felt your lungs failing yourself, but now you could hear him, because he was much closer now. Your eyes weakly trailed up, to see his bone fingers gripping your shoulder tightly, but you couldn't feel his touch. Your eyes continued up to meet the sockets of the other, his yelling seemed muffled by the fog in your head, he look frustrated, his sockets narrowed at you, his eyelights reduced to pin pricks. But that expression changed once your eyes finally met his, you could see his frustration leave like a flash, the second he locked eyes with your dull ones. He was sweating now, his eyelights gone, leaving his deep sockets staring blankly at you. His worry was quickly amped as your eyes finally fluttered shut and you toppled over in the floor beside him. He gasped now, scrambling to your side and stroking a boney hand across your face, calling out your name, but getting no answer. You awake later, to the sounds of beeps, and the uncomfortable feeling of a cold, sterile room closing in around you. You blink groggily as you try to sit up, but your body refused to let you do more than softly shift around. But you soon stopped your movement, hearing a familiar voice in the next room. It was Alphys, and another more loud voice you also recognized as Sans. You stopped shifting so
you could listen to them in the other room, they seemed upset. But you thought you'd pass out again when you heard Alphys mention a word far too familiar for you. Hanahaki Disease. You knew you had it, you knew that's what was happening to you, it's an easy search. But no one else did, not them, not your friends, not a soul but you knew this. You could feel tears prick your eyes, as you heard Alphys explain it to Sans, your body shaking hoping he wouldn't catch on. But another voice rang out, this time from the room you were in. It was Papyrus, you hadn't even noticed he had been sitting in a chair on the other side of the room, arms folded over his uniform. "Alphys, Sans, they're awake." He barked almost as a command, and they funneled into the room as though it was one, locking eyes with you. Alphys went to spoke, but before she could even attempt to speak, Red's hulking frame was stomping toward you. "Why didn't ya tell me? D... Did ya not know? That's it right?" His tone sounded pleading, like he wanted more than anything for you to not known you were dying, than to not have told him, to hide something like this. You shifted your teary eyes away from him, you knew the longer you stared at him, the more they would fall. "I knew." You finally spoke after a while, making him stare in stunned silence, before his sockets screwed up in anger again. "Why the hell didn't ya tell us? Or at least me?" He sputtered out, his hands waving as he spoke. But when you didn't answer he simply let out a grumble and moved closer to your bed side. "Then tell me at least..." He started, causing you to look at him out of the side of your eye. He hung his head for a moment, thinking over everything he had learned today, before raising his head with a snap "Who the fuck is it then? Who are ya so in love with that it's doing this to ya?" He was shaking at this point, and he didn't know if it was anger, or fear. "And why the hell don't they love ya back?" His voice cracked at those words, and hearing it sent you over the edge as well, tears rolling down your face now, your body trembling to keep from letting out shaky sobs. "Because.." You started for a moment, bringing your hand up to wipe your eyes, the IV in your arm feeling weird as it moved. "I haven't told them." This caused Red to stare blankly, and finally shut up for a moment. Giving Alphys the perfect moment to finally speak. "But Y/N, you will die if you don't tell them soon. Or get the surgery." You winced and tried to choke back another sob. "I don't want the surgery. I know what comes with it... I rather be like this than lose my feelings for them." You said blankly, Alphys looking from you to Sans again. Who was now angered again, hands balled into a fist. "Then tell them! I'm sure they're going to love ya back. They have'ta!" he spat, shaking his skull. You couldn't reply at first, you just softly sobbed to yourself, before taking a deep breath and collecting yourself. "It wont matter if I tell them. They wont feel the same." You weak mutters just fueling his anger more, as he finally had enough, he closed the rest of the space between you both, gripping the bed rails. Alphys reached out to stop him, but simply let him get it out, noticing Papyrus keeping a close eye on him. "Why the hell wouldn't they? Ya great! I should know, I spend almost every day with you!" Alphys blinked and looked at him for a moment. "Sans.. You've been around them a lot lately right?" Sans snapped his head to look at her. "It's what I just said, innit?" Alphys shifted her gaze to you again. "When you met them.... Did they look this sick?" You winced, you knew she had figured it out. Red was staring at you now, you could feel it, his sockets scanned you, before turning back to Alphys. "N...No, I don't think they did.. They had a lot more colla to them." Alphis nodded and looked to again, Red's gaze trailing back to you, his boney fingers still wrapped around the bars of your bed. "Is it a monster? Is that why ya don't think they will like ya? Y/N, monsters fall for humans all the time, you
really-" Sans was cut off by the bellowing of his older brother, causing all three of them to jump and instantly give him their attention. "Sans, you absolute moron." Sans gulped nervously, loosing his grip on the bed, as his brother continued. "It's you they like, how can you be so dense? I saw this ages ago" His eyelights rolled in his skull, as though he had just made another pun. Sans just stared at him, jaw slack, his large frame rumbled from the laughter he let out. "Come on Boss, it's a good joke, but this is serious." He shifted his skull back to look at you. "There's no way someone like them-" He stopped, your eyes were wide, and you face was flushed, and he realized just how pale you've gotten from this sickness. He blinked softly for a moment before letting out a panicked grunt, leaning over the bars, a foot from your face. "Yer fucking joking? T..." His skull flushed a bright cherry candy red, his eyelight finally appearing again for the first time since you passed out, they seemed to vibrate softly, flickering as they scanned you. You couldn't stand to look at him anymore, you felt destroyed, you were going to get rejected in front of everyone and slowly rot away. But instead you were surprised when you felt him clambering over the rails, into the bed with you, spooking both you and Alphys "S.Sans! Careful with them-" She blubbered as he managed to nestle his large frame, mostly sitting on the railing. His grin was larger than you've ever seen, his eyelights looked almost like they had turned heart shaped, and he was giggling like a dork. You scanned him, as you scooted in your bed to make space for the large skeleton monster. "Yer as big of a moron as me I guess, because I liked ya for a while too." He finally, said with another giggle. Your eyes went wide, and you suddenly felt dizzy, actually too dizzy, the room spun as you put a hand to your forehead, leaning back with a huff. Sans jumped again, trying to back away to give you space. "Fuck! Sorry uh.." Sans muttered, and Alphys simply snickered and walked over to the free side of the bed that didn't have a bone boy perched on it. Softly fanning you with her clipboard. "It's okay Sans, it's the blood flow coming back to them. They shouldn't be showing anymore signs of the illness in the next 24 hours." Sans beamed at you, watching the color come back to your face slowly. "Guess I'm ya new medication hun. Take as needed." He snicked and slumped into the bed beside you, pulling you to his lap. You sunk into his large frame like a bean bag. You had no idea how it happened, but you were fine with the out come. "Dork.." You muttered as you snuggled into his chest.
#x reader#underfell sans x reader#sans x reader#sans x y/n#underfell#underfell sans#undertale imagines#hanahaki disease#undertale#sans
315 notes
·
View notes
Text
『 لąҽհվմղ / ᎠҽӀմʂìօղ 』
warnings: mental illness implied, hallucinations, meds, aggressive jaehyun, implied sexual relations.
taglist: @nakamotocore @jisooapproved @la-ra-rumi @winwiniee @yijiujiujiu @nctlovesme
loveholic masterlist.
Lies.
That's what Jaehyun hated the most in the world, lies.
He hated the way you'd smile at him during class, only to pretend he wasn't even there as soon as you exited the room. It wasn't fair. He wanted to confront you, wanted to ask for an explanation for your uninterested attitude, but anytime he'd try, words got stuck in his throat, choking him uncomfortably.
Jaehyun wasn't sure when his interest in you began growing. He was never one to have secret crushes, so then, why you? What made you special enough for him to like you?
The answer came one lucky day when the professor paired you up together for a project. While people usually whined when being put in the same team with someone other than their friends, you seemed all but annoyed, smiling with your white, pearly teeth and waving at him as if he were your very best friend.
“Guess you’re stuck with me.” It was his first time speaking to you, beads of sweat collecting on his upper lip. “Jaehyun, right?”
He hated small talk almost as much as lies. Almost. But when it came to you, he could do it all day long if it meant listening to your delightful voice. All of his pent-up frustrations scattered as you started planning your schedule to work on the project. He’d only hum in approval, still too shy to speak to you.
“So tomorrow's okay with you?” Your head was tilted to the side, the tender skin of your neck looking awfully tempting. He pictured himself kissing it, having you struggle under his weight while he kissed it for hours on end. “Jae?” He was pulled out of the scenario his mind was working through by a gentle hand on his wrist.
There were no mirrors nearby, but the tips of his ears were surely tinted red by now. But most importantly, his pants were becoming uncomfortably tight in his crotch area. A touch from you was all his body needed to go insane.
“Sure.” You smiled, removing your hand from its previous spot. His skin itched for more contact, but he was too shy to initiate anything. “I need to go to the restroom.”
He rushed out of the classroom with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, pushing the fabric forward to conceal his growing boner. He relieved himself inside the small cubicle, his own heavy breathing muffled under the sound of a couple doing less than appropriate things inside the following stall. Would that be you and him one day? Probably, but not quite yet.
Your kindness had no limits. That's what Jaehyun thought when you sat down to have lunch with him, the guy who no one ever liked enough to hang out with.
“Why?” He asked on the second occasion you sit with him.
“Because I like you.”
You started hanging out more often not long after that. Even after you handed in your work, you were keen on staying by his side, and he had nothing to complain about. It was as if the universe was finally smiling at him, all the times you'd ignored him after class now long forgotten. He was happier, brighter than usual. He told his roommate, the closest friend he had, about you. He was happy for Jaehyun, of course, but a feeling in his gut told him something was off.
The night before your spring break started, you invited him to a frat party. He’d never been to one, he didn't like them. But you were so insisting that he had no other choice but to oblige. The entire house smelled like sweat, alcohol, and drugs, disgusting, he thought. However, it was all worth it when he finally got to see you, tucked inside a tight dress that showed the figure you'd so thoroughly hide in baggy shirts. He approached you, wanting to greet you, but one of your friends dragged you away. He didn't mind it, the night was still young and he'd have plenty of time to be with you.
Not even five minutes later, you reappeared by his side, giving him one of your signature eye smiles.
“Having fun, pretty boy?” A light blush crept up his face, settling at the tip of his ears. “Let’s dance.”
His hands were firmly gripping your hips as you rubbed your body on his, causing a more than an obvious problem in his pants. Before his brain could register the current events happening, your lips were on his. It all felt too sudden, yet, he enjoyed the way you'd nip at his lower lip. It sent him to frenzy.
“I’m so wet, Jae.” You mumbled seductively against his fleshy pillows. “Want you to make me feel good.”
You dragged him to the closest room, increasing under his adoring gaze. You were so beautiful, and all his. The promise of your union was sealed that night, as you fell asleep between his arms after three intense rounds of pure bliss.
“Jaehyun?” He felt someone shaking his shoulder, it was a male voice. His arms instinctively closed tighter around your naked body to hide it from whoever was calling him, only to realize it wasn't you who was between them, but a mere pillow. “Dude, get up.” It was his roommate Johnny, picking him up after he got a call from one of the frat members. “You got so wasted yesterday, let's go, I'll take you for food.”
Wasted? He hadn't drunk anything the previous night. Nonetheless, he left the house after dressing up. He tried calling you as they waited for their waffles to no avail.
“Jaehyun, I saw your pills today in the trash bin. Have you stopped taking them?” Johnny seemed truly concerned.
“I’m better now, John. For real.” The sincerity in his words put his roommate’s heart at ease. “I found someone, I like her a lot and it seems like she does as well.”
“Dude, that's awesome. We should hang out soon, I'll invite my girlfriend.” A double date, it felt like you and Jaehyun were finally official. But the question remained, why had you left the house early in the morning?
“Sure.”
Because you wouldn't pick up any of his calls, he had to wait until Monday to confront you. During breakfast, Johnny had crushed some of his pills and sneaked them into his eggs, you can never be too safe, he thought. And, oh boy was he right.
You were picking up your belongings from your locker, getting ready to go back home during the break.
“Hey.” He leaned against the closest wall, flashing you a dimpled smile.
“Oh, hey...Jay, right?” Was that a joke?
“Sure, whatever you want. So, my roommate wants to meet you, just let me know whenever you have time and I'll tell him. By the way...” He leaned in, lips brushing against the shell of your ears. Some curious eyes were looking at you, eager to know what was happening. “I really enjoyed that night, but it would've been better if I'd woken up with you between my arms.”
“Excuse me?” You backed away abruptly, escaping his proximity. “I think you're taking me for someone else.”
“What do you mean?”
Realization hit him like a truck. You were ignoring him yet again, but he wasn't gonna take it this time. He hated lies.
“Come with me.” He gripped your forearm, easily dragging you all the way to the janitor's closet. “You don't get to play dumb with me anymore. Stop fucking lying.” You looked like a scared little mouse about to be eaten by a cat.
“I-I’m sorry, but I'm not lying, the only time I've spoken to you was when we worked together. We haven't been in touch ever since.” Even in a situation like this, you still pretended to be kind.
“Lies.” His hands closed against your neck, slightly choking you. “I don't like them, so you better be good and tell me the truth before I do something we'll both regret.” Your eyes welled with tears as you begged for your life, his grip getting tighter with every second. “Come on, angel.”
“I’m sorry, I'm a liar!” Your air supply was running short and your only option was to say what he wanted to hear, even if it was just a lie. “Please!”
“That’s a good doll.” He let go of your bruised neck, letting you fall on your knees as you coughed. “Now, you better stop lying for your own good, are we clear?”
“Yes!” You choked out, unsure of what was happening at the moment.
“I’ll call you later, have your phone by your side.”
You had walked into a trap without even knowing it.
#nct au#nct imagines#nct ot21#nct smut#nct x reader#nct#nct 127#nct scenarios#nct angst#nct jaehyun#nct yandere
262 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! I’ve been reading a bunch about your new batch of oc’s (it’s really cool how they’re all super distinct from each other—that’s pretty hard to pull off, but you do it so well!) I was wondering (only if it’s ok!) to ask/req about how your new batch would react to a mouthy/sassy s/o who’s really not interested in a relationship? Thank you for your time and have a wonderful day!
merci!! ;w;
Leo
"I love you too much to let you push me around."
he may be domesticated, but there's no way he'll let your mouth run him away. he hates how much your laughter pisses him off in this moment, how it reminds him that you don't take him seriously enough to even consider his confession. nobody else makes him so crazy, so angry, so needy like the dog he's accepted that he is. you can barely collect yourself, and it's humiliating. it's all he can do to keep himself from baring his teeth and sink them into your neck to take you down and show you your place.
"are you serious, Leo?"
your voice cuts so deep into his chest, deeper than any knife of the most dire sharpness.
"this has to be a prank. you're not my type, puppy, and you know that."
you reach out to ruffle his ears, you think it's all just a joke at his own expense. you won't even look him in the eyes long enough to see how dark and cold they've become. if you don't see that he loves you now...
well, he'll just have to make it clear to everyone, so you'll never doubt him again.
Mel
"Mh? Is that an attitude I sense?"
it is. undoubtedly. but it's of little importance to him--he knows how to play this game, and he'll play it better than you ever will. you mouth off like you've never been shut up before, that much is very clear, and he didn't mind so much at first. thought it was just a little teasing back and forth, which isn't unnatural considering his personality.
but you don't wanna be his, and that's not allowed! haven't you realized by now that you're special? what the two of you have is rare, impossible even--he loves you so much he would give up his own life, and he knows you would do the same if you just admit it to yourself.
but you're so closed off. you serve back every flirtation with sass, get mouthy with him when he tries to be real and honest with you about anything, much less those times that you've been alone together and he tries to tell you how he feels.
this isn't how things are supposed to be. he won't let you shy away from the most passionate love he'll ever let you experience.
Noel
"Please, just listen to me....I love you."
how could you do this to him? just stop, pause, and stare right into his soul....and give him attitude? you're gonna make jokes like he didn't just pour his whole heart out to you?
what else can he do, now? he feels so lost, and for once your smile can't comfort him when you're holding back saying something rude to him. he doesn't want to cry, he wants to be strong, but the tears spill down his cheeks whether he wants them to or not.
"c'mon Noel, you know I don't want to be with you. is it really such a surprise?"
oh, now you've done it. his tears will abide soon, but only because he's realized what you're doing now.
you're just trying to string him along. test him to see if he's worthy enough to deserve being yours. and with that in the back of his head, he can find the strength to smile through the pain in his heart--because nobody has more patience than he does, and you'll understand just how much of your abuse he'll endure for the sake of your love.
Vivi
"So feisty, so cute! That's all I need to hear. You're mine."
it's adorable how you think a little brattiness will get you off the hook. don't you realize she's the master of this little game you've got going on? a few little scathing remarks aren't gonna make her run with her tail between her legs--in fact, quite the opposite. she loves the chase, after all.
"yeah right, Vivi. I don't think so, but thanks anyway."
aww, are you getting a little scared? she can see the twitch of your fingers against your arm, that look in your eye that befits an animal of prey. you couldn't get rid of her if you tried, and even if you did it would just end up pissing her off. so you keep hiding behind that wall of words you always put up to protect yourself, but she's gonna tear it down in seconds and take you for herself if you're not careful.
oh, dear. she didn't just say all that out loud, did she? your eyes are really struck with terror now...but it's such a cute look, isn't it? it really suits you more than all that attitude you like to give.
"just be still, darling." it'll hurt a lot more than your words ever could, otherwise.
Avi
"Settle down, little red. Don't make me bite you."
he's always liked playing with his food, but you bring a whole new meaning to that. you distract him with your little remarks and snarky comments, sometimes so much so that he forgets how perfect you would look with his teeth against your throat. he could choke you down and spit you up, churn you up from the inside out and leave you wanting more, absolutely ruin you so nobody else would even think of picking up such a filthy little pet.
and you still give him the best view of that pretty little mouth of yours. just that one comment alone has you giving him lip like your life depends on it, but all he can see is your energy wearing down bit by bit, your breaths getting slower with every passing word you spit back at him with more sass than you should be allowed. maybe he'll suit you up with a muzzle if you get this mouthy on your way back to his place.
just wear yourself out, he thinks to himself. you can't keep up the chase forever, little red.
Leigh
"I think you need to wash your mouth out."
does it not sound as serious when it comes from him? you laugh like you think he's joking, but he couldn't be more sincere. you like to tease him but this is different, this stings right in his heart and you know exactly how to twist the knife so it'll hurt the most. he can already imagine the expression you'll make when he grabs you by the jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks so you'll open up and he can squirt a bit of soapy foam on to your little pink tongue. just so you know he's really serious...but he can't stop thinking of sticking something else in there too, something that will really show you how serious he is.
he doesn't remember every little comment or ill-spirited jab, but the pang in his chest when you brush off his compliments and flirtations is enough for him to know it happens more often than it needs to. you're just being difficult for attention, and that's okay. you just need more of it, that's all, and who better to give it to you than him?
who better, darling? he'll wait for your answer, as long as it'll take to hear his name on the tip of your tongue.
Thorn
"Are you sure you wanna play this game with me?"
it's less of a question, more of a test. Thorn likes to drop these little riddles into your lap, and stand back to see how you'll react when he does. it's field research.
"you're gonna lose anyways, so what does it matter?"
oh, how cheeky. you always surprise him no matter what he throws at you, and this is no different--but this time he's just sick and tired of the answer. it's always the same no matter which way you phrase it, like unwrapping a candy and finding each one to be your least favourite flavour. there's always a part inside of him that thinks you're gonna change your mind one day, as if by a magical transformation--but no, you refuse, and to be honest it's really starting to irritate him.
you really don't know how good you could have it, do you? you don't understand how much he's been doing out of sight, and for you out of mind, just to ensure your happiness. you're royalty, and you don't even know it even when your prince is staring you right in the eyes, begging for the smallest scrap of your attention.
but you'll be the one begging soon. he knows it for sure.
Ilya
"That's enough out of you."
you may find it funny, but he doesn't think the same about you mocking him. sometimes he dreams about slapping that stupid little smirk off your face, but he's swiftly reminded that that may garner him the opposite reaction that he wants. people don't often take kindly to violence, that's right....but oh, you make it look so tempting. perhaps one day he'll get the chance to feel your throat bend beneath his palms, and listen to those sweet cries sputtering off your lips as you gasp for air....but you have to accept his love first, and you've promised him that it's never going to happen.
don't you realize how it breaks his heart? that your rejection time and time again is enough to make him feel like he may just die without you? why do you always do this to him?
he just has to collect himself. breathe. remember that your constitution is much weaker than his--you can't keep up this fight forever, and once you realize that he has no intention of letting you be loved by another soul on this earth, that's when he'll swoop in and claim you all for himself.
#yandere ocs#multi tag#leo lechance#mel mimiya#noel apsaras#viviya selle#avi ming#thorn echo merneith#leigh delilah#ilya windwheel#leo x reader#mel x reader#noel x reader#vivi x reader#avi x reader#thorn x reader#leigh x reader#ilya x reader#anonymous#love-toxin
83 notes
·
View notes
Text
vulnerability. – chap. 3.
Story info:
Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader
Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)
Genre: angst, smut
Chapter info:
Release date: 29th July 2021
Word count: 4 219
Warnings: none
Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi
Taglist:
@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi–kpop–fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512 @bloopbloopkai @byuns-asscheeks @baekyeonoreo @devotedexolnhottest @mingxia-nikki04 @velvetjongin @ssssssul (won't let me tag you T_T) @nemi-mei @buttercupbbh
Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you’re shy – feel free to leave a note this way.
Previous (Chap. 2.)
Chap. 3.
The tension that appeared the moment you received the phone call from Baekhyun did not dissolve with time. In fact, the opposite happened – it grew as the time passed, and as Saturday came closer and closer. Finally, once your Friday to Saturday night shift came to an end and you stumbled into your flat around 4 in the morning, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep easily. Yet, you forced a whole cup of green tea into yourself in an attempt to soothe your nerves before sleep. Your alarm was set for noon, and you were supposed to meet at 3 PM.
You woke up feeling energized, but you knew this pattern all too well already – the tiredness would come and hit you with its whole power the day after, and you’d spend Sunday sluggish and drained. But that was okay, because Sunday didn’t matter half as much as Saturday did.
You felt a small urge to dress up; even more, actually, you felt a need to pay attention to details rather than looking fine at the first glance. Some common sense hyped up by years of watching other people and reading stories – a thorough shower, shaving, paying attention to not only what you wore outside, but also your undergarments. You lacked things that could be considered “sexy”, but – let’s face it – you didn’t think it mattered much; not after what you’d found out so far. Yet, it would be a shame if your panties had a hole in them. Wearing something neutral, but fresh was your best bet. Every few minutes, you kept reminding yourself – you don’t even know what will happen, you don’t even know if anything will happen at all. There was no reason to think that he’ll want you to undress in the first place, you said it yourself that you’re not ready for sex.
But then, it still helped you gather confidence that you definitely needed at a moment like that. Details allowed one less thing to worry about, and a better ability to focus on others, and so, you made sure the details were worked out well, and that you didn’t overdress, either; a beige shirt and jeans, all wrapped up with sneakers and another knitted cardigan of yours – neutral and polite, maybe a bit school-ish, but these were the things you mostly wore on daily basis, and you felt that going in the other direction – of tight pants, mini-skirts and see-through shirts – would not be appreciated. Your hair was pulled up into a loose bun, nothing like the ones you admired in YT tutorials, but the best you could do on your own. Maybe it was the age difference that made you feel obliged to show respect rather than expose yourself. You trusted your instinct on that, and so far, nothing happened yet to prove it wrong. The weather was starting to get warmer; these days were particularly sunny and dry, so you felt at ease without an extra jacket. It couldn’t get that bad in the evening, and you put faith in your cardigan.
Baekhyun must have thought similarly.
You stood in the bar’s entry, looking up at him for a moment; he leaned back into his usual couch, not aware of your presence just yet. He was wearing a black button-up and jeans as well, something he still looked pretty well put-together in, but not too formal – similar to your own thought process, noticeably.
You inhaled deeply, and took your time to exhale the air – until you felt ready to walk up to him.
“Hi there” he spoke as you approached his couch; as expected, he was there alone today.
“Hi there” you replied with a slight nod and a smile; your voice was quiet, as quiet as it could be without trembling in anticipation.
“You want to drink something before we go?”
You considered it for a second, and then nodded again. Baekhyun moved a bit to the side, encouraging you to join him on the couch, and you took the offer with gratitude.
“Beer? I don’t want to get you drunk, but we may sit here for a bit just to relax.”
“You can tell I need it?”
“Yes. I can tell. Your shoulders are very tense. May I?”
His hand reached to your shoulder and you nodded slightly, a bit unsure what you agreed to just yet.
He suddenly squeezed your muscle, and you whimpered. He kneaded it, and you found the tension dissolving gradually as he went on. Even with only one hand and unfavorable position, he managed to find some of the spots that required touch; that touch was welcome, slight pain coming along with it was desired for the best outcome. You didn’t notice when Baekhyun must have given the bartender some sort of a sign, but the man soon came with a beer and water that he put on the nearby table. That was when Baekhyun’s movement slowly ceased, cautiously letting go of your shoulders. You felt as if you were in a different body, the tension in your body almost gone, just as the one in your mind – the moments of physical interaction were enough to chase some of your worries away.
“You don’t drink?” You reached towards the table – it was closer to you than to him – and took the two glasses, handing him the water and keeping the beer for yourself.
“Not before,” he explained curtly, which you accepted without further questioning.
“So… what are we gonna do?” you asked carefully, sipping the beer through a metal straw, trying to give off a casual vibe despite focusing deeply on what you were about to hear.
“Depends. On how much will you allow me to do.” Baekhyun focused his gaze on something in the crowd; you felt as though it was his habit to avoid a direct gaze in an attempt to sound collected. “I had the idea of showing you some things. Just so you feel it out a little. It’s not final, but it may help the both of us figure out how we feel about it. Like a free trial, you see my point?” You nodded, but didn’t say anything, so after a moment he continued. “I won’t introduce you to everything, and it won’t last as long as usual sessions, either. I’ll talk to you a bit beforehand so we figure out some basic things. It shouldn’t make you uncomfortable. I won’t be trying anything beyond your comfort zone.”
“So, no deals a’la Fifty shades?” you felt silly the moment these words left your mouth. Baekhyun laughed awkwardly.
“No, it won’t be necessary. If you want to draw a comparison to that, I definitely won’t be dumping the whole scheme on you when you don’t even know what it’s like.”
And you won’t fuck me first thing in the plot, you added in your thoughts.
“There are a few things that I may ask you here, so that we have those out of the way,” he spoke; his tone lowered a little. “I need you to tell me if you have any illnesses or old injures that could influence your physical capacity.”
You thought for a bit; the answer was important, but you couldn’t recall much.
“I don’t think there’s anything important.”
“Is there anything unimportant?” His gaze pierced through you as he caught on your wording.
“Uh… I’m taking pills for my thyroid, but it’s nothing very dramatic” you explained. “Nothing else that I know of.”
Baekhyun nodded slowly.
“Fair. Next question, is there anything you’re particularly scared of? Phobias, or things you’re scared of in general, anything overly triggering that you want to avoid at all costs?” You already revealed some of these during your first conversation. But now you felt more at ease, and you thought you could be more detailed without sounding overwhelming.
“I’m… scared of fire. And hate my hair being pulled. I don’t know, why. I can’t explain it. It’s just…”
“It’s alright. You don’t need to explain yourself to me” Baekhyun looked at you with his eyebrows slightly furrowed. “You sound like it would stress you out to share. You don’t need to be afraid of that. You don’t owe me anything, keep that in mind. It’s not supposed to feel like an obligation.”
“I-I know.”
“I’m scared of heights, by the way.” You stared at him in confusion. “Hm? Just thought it’s fair to share if you did.”
“Oh.”
“Chill out.” He nudged your glass with his hand to urge you to drink some more of the beer you managed to forget about by then. It was halfway through – you didn’t want to leave the glass with some of it still inside, although it managed to make you feel just a bit sick already.
His own drink was at around the same level too, and as you finished yours, he drank the remaining water in one go as well.
You weren’t the best at handling alcohol, and even the small amounts made you a bit weak in the knees. But you felt sober enough as the two of you finally got up; Baekhyun paid for your drinks and you left the bar.
The weather was nice, as expected. Going out into the sunlight again startled you, somehow; you felt as though a lot of time had already passed. But no, it was still the same afternoon.
It was true that Baekhyun lived nearby. His apartment was in a different direction than your place, though, and you estimated it would take around twenty minutes to get from one place to the other. You knew this area, although not too well – there were only some tenement houses, but no stores or academic buildings that could gain your attention or regular presence. It was on the more expensive side, although not a place a well off office worker wouldn’t afford; just maybe not suitable for a student. The tenement houses were old, but well-kept, and you knew that the apartments were way bigger than in a place like yours.
Opening the door for you, Baekhyun invited you into the dark hallway of his apartment. There were no lights, as every wall had doors to other rooms: two to the left, one at the end of the corridor, and two more to the right, perfectly symmetric.
“Kitchen, my office, bathroom, my bedroom, and the living room,” the man told you, starting from the left. One glance into the living room on the right made you realize just how big the rooms were; enormous, in your honest opinion, with the area of something around a classroom at school, but with ceilings that reached far up, almost twice higher than in your own place. Heavy curtains hung from the top of the tall windows like limp branches of a willow tree, giving the most dramatic effect, and – likely – gathering tons of dust throughout their lifetime. Wooden, carved furniture added to the effect, and you, in all your sincerity, would not dare to ask how much such a set cost, although it would be a lie to say that you weren’t curious. Wooden panels on the floor were already worn and grey, giving you a thought that the interiors were kept in this particular shape for long years before Baekhyun began to reside in there.
“That’s huge,” you only uttered. Your eyes rested on a painting in the middle of a wall on the left side of the room, above an eclectic-green, velvet couch, in front of which was a wooden coffee table, and which gave a perfect sight into an old TV on the side of the room, as it was one of the old-styled, small models that would be hard to look at from the distance between one wall and the other. The painting looked old, but you wondered from the distance, whether it was not just printed in good quality, with all the details of lights, people and nature making it look like a piece of national heritage rather than a small private property. It portrayed a battle scene coming to an end, warriors in shining armor stained with blood resting upon trees and a small pond of pinkish water, at either sunset or sunrise – you weren’t sure.
“You like it?” He caught your stare and followed it, giving himself a few seconds to adore the painting as well, as though he hadn’t looked at it enough despite living here.
“It’s too violent,” you decided after a moment. “But it’s nice to look at.”
“It’s not that violent in itself, I think. But it does conjure the thought of it.”
He left the living room with you still in the doorframe, staying to look at the painting just for a few more seconds. When you turned around, he was entering the kitchen – this room also looked old, but less well kept; it was cleaned up perfectly, however the furniture was shabby, with the surfaces often partly rubbed off and grey; this room simply screamed for renovation. But you felt way more at ease with the fact that it looked similar to yours – the one that was over twenty years old when you moved with and you had no way of changing it without getting in trouble with the landlord. And not like you’d want to do it at all, since you’d move out right after your studies anyway. The only difference was that you tried to make your apartment look a bit warmer with colorful lights and other cheap ornaments here and there, while Baekhyun’s kitchen was just left as it was, as though he gave up on it the moment he moved in.
“Hungry?”
“Not much.” You were still full of the freshly consumed beer.
Out of the fridge, Baekhyun took a bag of half-eaten potato chips. You stared at him with your eyebrow raised as he ate a few of these, and then extended the bag towards you, to which you only shook your head and he put the bag back in the fridge. He caught your look.
“Food moths,” he explained. You slowly nodded in understanding. That’d be a useful tip if you ever got those. The summer was slowly coming; soon, your small apartment would also be filled with bugs, and fruit flies, mosquitos, and sciarids because you kept a few plants in (discovering that sciarids and fruit flies were not the same thing was an important step in achieving perfect harmony in your adulthood).
You sat awkwardly by the table, observing him as he reached for the bag he must have left on the counter before he went to pick you up, and took out leftovers – probably from work – putting them back in the fridge.
“You worked today?” you asked.
“Yeah, just an average thing, a strategic meeting with co-workers. My working hours are not regular, so I didn’t really know I was gonna be out today.”
Once he was done, he sat by the table as well, and you leaned a bit forward, resting your chin on top of your hand.
“You could have postponed it with me, you must be tired,” you said.
“Don’t worry, I’d rather have a chance to relax with you.”
That didn’t sound as innocent as he probably tried to make it, and he looked over his shoulder to make sure he didn’t scare you with the choice of words. You only laughed awkwardly.
“Anyway. Since, as I said, I don’t want to intimidate you, I think we’ll stay in the living room since you seemed content with that,” he spoke casually.
“So, no playroom?” you uttered. Baekhyun choked on the chip in his mouth.
“I don’t own such a place. I just usually use the bedroom. Or the bathroom,” he explained.
“Or the office?” you felt bold enough to suggest, giving him a small smirk.
“No, I assure you the office is for what offices usually are.”
You smiled innocently as Baekhyun stared at you, probably trying to mask sudden shyness.
“Either way,” he cleared his throat. “I told you some about what I want to do, but you haven’t told me if there’s anything you’re interested in trying out. I assume you did see some things, so… Is there anything that you’ve been particularly interested in?”
The harmless way in which he phrased the question absolutely didn’t change the fact that he was, basically, asking what kind of porn you watch.
“I uh… I like watching different things, just out of curiosity, but I’m not really sure if there’s anything I like particularly more than other things… I suppose bondage is the biggest basic.” You tried, you really tried to sound neutral, but your voice trembled a little. “But I’m not really sure, to be honest. I’m quite open-minded, I suppose…” You felt silly; how could you not be able to answer the most basic question – what do you like? But Baekhyun seemed to understand that very well, as he only nodded slowly.
“What about, let’s say, pet play?” You blushed slightly. “You know what I’m talking about? I feel like a lot of young women start from there.” It took you a moment to realize that you, too, were a young woman. “Behavioral training. Humiliation. Regression. A bit of pain, if suitable. Trying out a few things to see how you respond. What do you think?”
“I think it may be fun” you said slowly. “Does it have something to do with the…?” you motioned your neck, hoping he’ll get the cue. You remembered the collars the other people wore – they were the main reason you got interested in the first place, after all. Baekhyun smiled, catching on your observation.
“Sometimes, but not necessarily. It’s just a thing I like. Do you?”
“…I may,” you answered carefully.
“Gotcha. We may try it out. You know, everyone is different. The collars are different too. I usually order them after I’m sure the person’s gonna stay, and when I know what type will be the most suitable for them. I can’t do that for you yet, but I have some spare items.”
“Do you have the ones of people who you’re not with anymore?” you asked, out of pure curiosity.
Baekhyun was silent for a moment.
“I do. But I’d rather not use them. They’re there for memory, not for use.”
“Gotcha. I was just curious,” you quickly explained.
“Do you have a safe-word?” Baekhyun’s gaze rested on you.
“…Not really. Never needed one,” you uttered sheepishly.
“You have anything on your mind?”
“Um, the… thing with lights? The red light, yellow and green?” you proposed carefully.
“That’s a good one. Tell me how you understand them.”
“So, the green one means everything’s alright, the yellow is when we need to slow down, and the red stops the scene,” you recited, as if you were reading from a book.
“That’s right. It’s easy to remember, so we can go with that.” You bit on your lips to prevent yourself from getting too excited with the apparent praise; it wasn’t anything big, of course – but you felt as though it was a praise in itself, being acknowledged for saying something right. “Another thing is that I need you to know a few rules, before we start.” You were all ears. “First, I don’t want you to be reluctant for the fun of it. Whether you want to be a brat later or not, today we’re just trying things out and I don’t want to mistake your attitude with actual discomfort, do you understand?” You nodded slowly, memorizing the words and waiting for him to continue. “Second. No pain that I will impose on you will be a matter of punishment, unless I specify so. If you don’t enjoy it, you need to tell me so. It doesn’t mean I’ll stop right away, unless – of course – you use the safe-word. However, I still expect honesty. During, as well as after the scene, when we review it. Do you understand?” The breaks in between the points gave you enough time to acknowledge the information and encode it in your memory. You nodded once again. “And for the last. Do you trust me?”
The tone made you look up at him, finally focusing on his person rather than the words alone.
“I do,” you finally decided; knowing very well what this answer would lead to.
Baekhyun’s eyes sparkled as he smiled at you warmly.
“Well then, shall we start?”
* * *
You stand in the middle of the room, the cardigan and shoes are off, your feet feel cold against the floor despite socks wrapped around them comfortingly.
Don’t move a finger, you’ve been told, and so, you stare at the painting before you, the warrior in the front staring at you back with contempt you haven’t noticed before.
Your breath trembles in anticipation as you try to hear sounds from other rooms – you do hear some shuffling, but nothing that you can figure out for sure. He must be in his bedroom, you think. What is he preparing? Which tools out of many that you’ve seen on the screen of your phone all these nights that, despite spending perfect eight hours in bed, did not end in getting perfect eight hours of sleep?
Your arm itches, but you fight the urge to scratch it; be obedient, he said.
Steps echo in the corridor and you hold your breath. Your head snaps to the side the moment you hear him enter the room again.
“Eyes down,” he commands without sparing you a glance; you haven’t had enough time to see what he brought, but you instantly obey his words. “Don’t look at me unless I allow you to.” His voice is stern, and it makes your stomach clench nervously. But it’s not a bad sensation, not at all – you grow excited. “Down. On your knees.”
You try to comply, but he still scoffs at your apparent sluggishness. You almost fall over as you let your knees bend and you finally kneel down as well as you can, eyes facing down as well, although you feel awkward as you do so.
“On your toes,” Baekhyun commands; something small but hard hits your heels, startling you, and your head whips around to see a wooden pointing stick. You swallow the gasp of surprise at the sight.
You fix your posture, your toes instantly begin to cramp; that’s uncomfortable, and your toes aren’t too flexible, it seems.
“Straighten your back. You’re slouching.”
The task turns out almost impossible to do, the whole weight lands on your toes and you frown in discomfort.
“Is it necessary…?”
“Look at me.” It feels unnatural to do so now, but you oblige, turning your head to the side where he stands. “What’s wrong?”
“My toes hurt,” you admit quietly. Baekhyun watches you for a moment.
“Straighten them. Kneel as you did before.” You bite your lips and nod, uttering a small thank you that you find suitable enough as the position gets a bit more comfortable. “Back. Straighten.”
You automatically snap back into the position. But it does feel a bit silly – like something your teachers would say, don’t slouch! A laughter comes out at the comparison, but you attempt to stifle it.
Apparently, not well enough.
The pointer hits the nape of your neck; not too hard, but the message gets through.
Baekhyun stands in front of you and, most likely, stares you down – you can’t tell; your gaze is fixated on his lacquered shoes. The shoes then move, kicking the middle of your thighs.
“Spread.”
You feel a bit awkward as you oblige this command; you only glance down to make sure your pants aren’t ripped – you never know. To your relief, they’re not. Then you try to glance forward – but, what’s in front of you, makes you more shy than anything, so you just fix your gaze on his knees instead.
“You’re slouching again.”
“Pets often do,” you note before you manage to bite your tongue; you do remember your conversation from before – wasn’t it what he was aiming for? You thought so at first. But the words were not thought through at all; you just felt a need to say something, anything, just like you’d talk back to a teacher when they became too annoying in their remarks.
You hold your breath as Baekhyun crouches down to your level.
You feel his eyes on you, and you unwittingly tremble under his gaze, forcing yourself to look even lower, not daring to break the rule. The seconds seem to last hours as he doesn’t speak a word – and he doesn’t have to. You feel intimidated.
“You want to be a pet?”
He stands up; he’s right in front of you, if you so much as leaned forward a little bit, your forehead would touch his thigh. You slightly crave the touch; but not enough to move, not when you grow petrified. The question is rhetorical. You wait for him to finish the thought.
“Then I’ll treat you like one.”
Without waiting for your reaction, he steps behind you. You hear shuffling in what had to be a box placed behind your back; you see nothing.
But you hear the harsh, recognizable clink of metal and your stomach drops.
* * *
Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch!
Author's note: Hello, have you missed me??? I'm sorry it took so long to upload, it's hard to find time among exams I had in June, and now my (first) new job! The next chapter is already being written, so hopefully, won't take that long. Remember to reblog if you liked, and I'll be really happy to hear what you have to say about this so far. Stay safe!
Next (Chapter 4.)
#exowritersnet#kdiarynet#bbh-net#exosnet#exo baekhyun#exo bbh#bbh x reader#bbh#exo#byun baekhyun#exo fanfiction#baekhyun fanfiction#exo x reader#baekhyun x reader#vg: vulnerability#vg: exo#vg: baekhyun#vg: series
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
The things we never tell.
[[Zuko x Reader]]
Summary: After the war Y/N strays away from her friends, and her relationship with Zuko seemed everytime more distant, slowly she starts to fall into a darker place.
A/N: I took a very extensive but very needed break, I’m incredibly sorry to anyone who sent me a request before I disappeared and was left waiting for me to post it but my mental health was not the best during this past few months and it’s been hard to do anything at all. But I’m back and I hope writing again gives me a sense of purpose or something lol. Talking about mental health, this fic talks about heavy topics like depression and isolation, if you’re not confortable with that or are going through this stuff I recommend skipping this one, I will have lighter fics coming soon. Remember you are never alone, no matter how much you feel like it. There’s always someone to reach out to or ask for help.
Requested: Yes!!!! By a lovely blog that deactivated but went by the name of aristasiaclarke :( (yes that’s how long I’ve been away) But side note, if you sent me a request before my break and would still like me to write it send it to me again I’d be more that happy to do it!
Warnings: Depression, Anxety, Isolation, Angst
~IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS DONT HESITATE TO ASK ~
The war was over, it had been for months now, yet some things hadn’t gone back to normal . You decided to stay in the palace after Zuko was crowned since your relationship with him had only grown stronger by being so close to losing eachother. Your friends on the other hand all went their separate ways. The friend group you’d spent so many days with, planning on how to defeat the firelord, training, camping, going on missions, it all became just memories and it had been so long since you’d all been together last. You couldn’t complain though, you understood after everything that had happened all your friends were left with many responsibilities laying on their shoulders and, in a way, none of you were the same kids you were when this adventure started. You had all grown up.
Zuko and you spent a lot of time together those first few months since you moved in, that period of time when his people understood his need to settle into his position and take charge of his nation, but after that was over the workload was relentless, Zuko had been left with a broken nation and the full responsibility of fixing it. At first he always made sure to eat every meal with you, chat and update you on everything new that had happened, little by little he started to miss lunch and then it was dinner, soon breakfast and any midday break was gone as well. It came to a point where you rarely saw him at all, him working so late you were usually asleep by the time he came to bed, if he did at all, and you waking up to an empty bed every morning.
Slowly but surely a feeling you knew all too well started reappearing in your chest, something you hadn’t felt in years and were too scared of to even acknowledge. You tried to figure out what to do with all the free time you had in your hands so the feeling wouldn’t consume your mind, you remodeled at least fiver rooms in the palace, picked up several hobbies, offered your help to servants all around just to be rejected, anything and everything your mind could think of, but nothing was enough. That darkness and emptiness inside of you seemed to be determined to conquer your every waking moment once again.
Last time this happened you had your old friends around you, back at home. You family did everything they could to help you, and little by little you learnt how to heal. But this was different, all you had now were empty hallways that lead to even emptier rooms, and the ones that weren’t empty you weren’t permitted to go into.
Days were longer and shorter at the same time; on one hand, a day seemed to last ages, all you did was wait til night fell so you could go back to bed and rest, on the other you started spending more time inside your room, taking naps here and there turned into sleeping most of your days, taking baths became a task harder than any of the ones you’d had to complete in your adventure days, the curtains stayed closed and the bed unmade, day and night slowly started to blend in together.
Servants noticed first, they knocked on the door several times a day to ask if you needed anything at all, to which you would always answer no. When you stopped going to the dinner hall they started to bring food to you, most of which you didn’t eat. One too many times they even had to drag you to the bath so they could get a chance to clean your room.
It was your personal maid who had decided to finally bring in the palace medic. After running some tests on you he concluded there was nothing wrong with you and all it could be was hormonal changes. But hormonal changes weren’t supposed to last weeks, not to mention months.
The maid tried encouraging you to go out to town, visit some new boutique that had opened or a restaurant with great reviews, but all you ever said was “maybe tomorrow”. She came to understand that tomorrow wouldn’t come.
—————————
One day she decided to not stand by and witness a girl who had once been the light in every room wither away. It took all her courage to approach the fire lord,. Even though she knew of his kindness and how different he was from his predecessor he was still an intimidating ruler.
“Fire lord” she called as the young man walked through the palace surrounded by his officials, discussing some political matter she assumed. He didn’t seem to hear her so she sped up and stood in front of the group of men.
“I’m sorry but any issue at the moment will have to wait, important matters need to be addressed with urgency.” He informed her with his usual formal tone.
“Your majesty, it’s miss Y/N, she-” the maid started but was soon interrupted
“Yes, well if she requires my presence please inform her I’m occupied at the moment, but whatever she needs she can ask the help to do it for her.” Zuko attempt to walk past her but the maid stopped him once again.
“Your majesty, I hope I’m not being too bold but I don’t think you understand, she’s very unwell.” the maid saw as Zuko was about to protest her audacity, but once his eyes fell on her he seemed to realize the seriousness of the matter.
Zuko’s heart sank, all kinds of thoughts went through his head, had you gotten injured? Had one of the rebellious groups he’d been dealing with infiltrated the castle and taken you? had you fallen ill with a terrible condition? He soon turned to his second in command and said “You can take charge from here”
The man rather surprised replied after a few seconds “Your majesty, this matter requires your presence, it can not wait.”
“Well it will have to, I’m going to be unavailable the rest of the day. I’m sure you all can manage without me.”
———————
Nothing could’ve prepared Zuko for the sight he encountered when he entered the royal chambers. He hadn’t sleept there a few nights in a row, not wanting to wake you up at late hours when he was done with his workload of the day, but even when he did sleep there he was too tired to even notice anything wrong. Now, at broad daylight, he saw it all.
You were cuddled up under the covers, your hair matted and messier than ever, very dark under eye bags and an extremely pale complexion, even laying down and under blankets and covers he could tell you’d lost a worryingly amount of weight. He’d never seen you in such state.
“What happened to her? Is she ill?” Zuko asked the maid who stood next to him.
“The medic has been called, your majesty, he wasn’t able to point out anything wrong with her. Said it was just hormonal changes, but I don’t think that’s what’s going on.” she said softly.
“Well then bring another doctor in. Someone has to know what’s wrong.”
“Yes, your majesty, we’ll being someone else in first thing tomorrow.” she bowed and was about to leave the room when the firelord stopped her.
“Thank you... for bringing this to my attention and for looking after her.”
The maid just bowed once again and made her way out of the room. Zuko walked up to you, your eyes were closed and even in your sleep an uneasy expression was plastered on your face.
“Love...” he cooed stoking the side of your face slowly. “Hey, darling... wake up.”
He made sure to rest his hand on your forehead to see if you had a fever, but on the contrary you were rather cold. You barely opened your eyes, but it was enough for Zuko to see how the light that had once been there was now gone.
“Zuko?” you asked, your voice barely audible and raspy as you tried to blink the sleepiness away slowly.
“Hey, do you feel sick Y/N? Does anything hurt?” Zuko’s hand had moved from your forehead to your cheek and his thumb was now sweetly caressing your skin.
You hadn’t felt a loving touch in what felt like so long, you’d almost forgotten that you could feel something good and not painful. It was all it took for tears to slowly start forming in your eyes and eventually rolling down your face.
At the sight of your partner’s concern, you forced yourself to smile a little and respond “Nothing hurts.”
“Y/N... something’s not right. I’ve never seen you like this before, i need you to tell me what’s going on.” Zuko’s voice was almost breaking, you could tell how hard he was trying to be strong and keep collected for you, this broke your heart even more.
You took in a deep breath, your mind running while trying to find an answer for him. You knew what was wrong, you’d ignored it so far, pushed it away even though it now consumed your every waking moment, but you knew you couldn’t do this anymore. “I don’t feel well, Zuko. I haven’t for a while now.”
“Are you ill? We’ve called a doctor already, he should be-” He said before you cut him off.
“Zuko... It’s not that kind of unwell.” you almost whispered. “A doctor can’t help me with this.”
The firelord seemed lost for a while, not quite sure of what you meant. You took a second before sitting up on the bed and pressing your back against the headboard. You decided to recount the events of the last time you’d gone through this to him, every sleepless night and every full of sleep day, the multiple crying sessions, the pain and hopelessness, the ever changing appetite, the heavy chest you couldn’t seem to get rid of. This was all terribly hard for you to do but needed to be done, for your sake and for his. Zuko didn’t seem to understand at first, his eyes looking at you attentively, waiting for the moment where the pieces of your story would fall into place. It took you saying how what was wrong with you wasn’t physical but rather emotional for him to get what you were referring to. His face had fallen into a heartbreaking expression, you didn’t know if it was guilt or pity or something in between.
Once you were done and the tears that pooled in your eyes while tellling your story had fallen, Zuko held your hand tightly. “This is all my fault. You should’ve been my priority.”
“Zuko...no. This isn’t your fault, it’s nobody’s fault.” You assured him as your hand went up to his cheek.
“I’m so sorry. You shouln’t have had to deal with this alone. You were there for me when no one else was and I want to do the same for you, always.” He tilted his head into your palm before turning slightly to kiss it.
“I’d like that... I really would.”
For the rest of that night, you and your partner opened up to each other like you’d never had before. For the first time since the war had ended you didn’t feel so alone, you were together and that made you feel like you had the strength to get better, maybe not today or in the days to come, but someday. He gave you hope.
#zuko au#zuko fic#zuko x reader#atla zuko#zuko angst#zuko fanfic#avatar zuko#prince zuko#zuko x you#fire lord zuko#zuko x y/n#zuko x oc#atla imagine#atla fanfic#aang#katara#sokka#fanfic#fire nation
236 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi hi hi got another story!
so I was doing another run of doors with some other players I didn’t know but THEY WERE CRACKED. Speed through Figure 50 in like 3 minutes (password included) so there was me, cracked player one, cracked player two. Current on level 100 (my first time there but I knew the figure skip) and I’m trying to put in the technical code thingie but then one of them puts it in.
And I didn’t notice.
SO I ENDED UP DYING AND COULDNT REVIVE CUASE I SPENT ONE AFTER AMBUSHED GOT MY ASS LIKE 4 ROOMS AGO
So that was sad :(. Losing door 100 by not noticed we’re already done and ambush took a life.
But now I’m no longer as terrified of Figure and can quickly get 4 books which is good :D
—
Also, The Eyes are my least favorite entity as my reaction time is very bad so I’d end up looking at it for 2-3 seconds and lose so much hp
—
yesss Seek is so chill and professional with the other entities but around Hide/Rush he’ll start chucking paintings around in a fit of anger whilst cursing to hell and back.
I feel like Rush’s dumb energy was what drawn Seek into it. Loud, carefree, and also it runs into their room when they’re busy raging, then leaves soon after. Doesn’t bring it up during the next meeting.
conversely, Rush was super curious about this Seek guy since it had consistently barged into Seek’s rage sessions at full force before zipping out, but 30 minutes later Seek is all put together and calm and totally not what it had saw.
Hides also joins in the rage session by chucking out all the wrappers and other junk past players had dropped into the closet. damn why is it so fucking dirty. Which just fuels Seek and Rush’s shenanigans by giving them more things to throw.
—
The Eyes and Figure friendship :D (<—— fucking hate them both in game)
The eyes being a collective of identity all just chatting with each other which sometimes means it’s hard to talk to them as there’d be 17 different opinions on just this one topic and their voices overlap.
Luckily, Figure’s hearing allows it to be able to pick out each conscience’s voice and slowly answer them all. Figure can also get more voices for whenever they ask a question like “What does the outside look like?” Then the Eyes would be like, “just like silence! Feels like Seek a lot of the times. Very reminiscent of Halt during the day. Also warm like the fire. Without the hurting part!”
—
I have another ask being written, just taking time to properly word things out and such. It’s about Lights this time :).
NOOOOO OUGH that so sad rip, dying at 100 must SUCK... well, i mean, if you got there once, you can get there again! good luck lol
also hell yeah rush and seek being chaotic together sounds so fun lol, i can imagine seek just like getting rlly mad and punching a hole in the wall just in time for someone to walk in and rush is like "....oh no... a hole in the wall that I PUNCHED and am BEING SCOLDED FOR BY SEEK whatever shall i do.." and seek just rolls with it and they kind of have this solidarity of rush is the one who usually gets into dumb situations and seek is insecure about its angry side so they kind of cover for each other i guess. or something. like rush covers for seek and in turn seek will do favors for it.
i'd imagine rush and ambush also have a system like this but instead its "ok who knocked over the bookshelves when speeding past this time" and its a 50/50 of "ok ill cover for you" or "ok im going to wrongfully blame you because lol"
i absolutely love all your ideas and about the collective consciousness thing YES YES YES figure being able to handle all the voices bc of its better hearing is definitely something that helps whenever they talk.
also OOOH honestly i rlly need to give the lights much more thought, theyre so cool but like. oogh. my brain must dust of its gears and get thinkin.. see you in the next ask lol
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
FIREWORKS AND STREAMERS
Request: I have been insecure about my curly hair lately and was wondering if you can you write something with one of the weasley twins where the reader is insecure about her curly hair and one of the twins makes her feel better.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Hufflepuff!Reader
Genre: fluff
Tags:
Requested by: @wildcat1434
Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn
Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog
Warnings: none
A/N: So like, incoming fluff bc this idea was cute and sometimes I do be needing fluff, that's about it, enjoy <3
Rogue-durin-16 masterlist
The relationship between me and my hair had always been... Bumpy, you could say.
There were periods in which I would find it quite lovely; during those times I would let my curls free, showing them off with a proud demeanor, knowing my hair was unique. Those times began to turn less and less usual since the middle of third year, though they were still there.
However, after the summer prior to my sixth year, those moments had banished; I only wished to hide my hair, and my friends ended up noticing. They told me surely there would be a spell or potion able to change my hair.
As if they had summoned it, the next day in Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall introduced us to what seemed like my salvation; Crinus Muto, an advanced spell that modified the caster's hair with no restrictions.
My best friend advised me against using it, claiming it wouldn't help my insecurity— if only, it would worsen it.
I really wanted to do as she had told me and completely dismiss the spell's existence, but two nights after I had a big mental breakdown about it, caused by the most stupid thing ever.
"Is Weasley staring at you or am I blind?" One of my friends whispered, her eyes trained on the Gryffindor table.
I didn't even bother to look up, not wanting to know whether it was true or not, before responding with a quiet "You're blind."
"I mean, it's hard to tell with two rows of students between us but," She nudged me, urging me to avert my gaze from my dinner and redirect it to Fred. "it kinda looks like he's... staring."
Curiosity killed the cat, I guess. My eyes finally left my plate and were, in fact, met with Fred's brown ones. As soon as they met, though, he looked away, pretending to be focused on his food, just like I had been doing seconds ago.
"Of course he's staring." Hannah Abbot, who sat right in front of my friend, commented with her mouth full. "Have you seen your hair?" She swallowed her food, looking me up and down before adding, "No offense, but it's an absolute mess." My eyes opened widely in shock at her bluntness. "You should take care of it, really."
"Has someone ever told you you're an ill-mannered bitch, Hannah?" I heard my friend talking back at the younger girl while I got up and started to make my way out of the Great Hall.
Of course, I didn't see Fred shooting up and attempting to go after me; ultimately he decided to stay in his place, since he saw my friend walking out too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was very aware of all the pair of eyes that had been laid on me the very moment I entered the greenhouse where we would be doing the Herbology tasks.
When I had met my friends at the Hufflepuff common room that morning, I had received divided opinions about my straight hair. At first I had been very convinced that it looked way better than my curly hair, but seeing my friends' reaction, I wasn't that confident about it anymore.
I didn't have time to undo the spell before class, so I decided to go along with it and see how the day unfolded.
I took a deep breath, my eyes trained on the ground as I made my way to an empty seat; maybe there weren't that many people staring, maybe it was just my anxiety.
I finally gathered the courage and looked up, nervously scanning the glasshouse so I could shake off my fears.
There was only a couple of my peers staring, which would have put me at ease, if one of them wasn't Fred Weasley.
On top of it, of course, he wasn't even trying to be subtle, it was almost as if he wanted me to notice his judging eyes; I could feel his gaze on me for the entire class.
The instant Professor Sprout dismissed us, I shoved everything in my bag and left the greenhouse, thanking a couple of Gryffindors who complimented my hair on my way out.
Again, I didn't notice Fred leaving the class as soon as he could to run after me.
I threw my bag against a tree near the lake shore and, as I fell against it, I heard someone jogging in my direction.
"In a hurry to sit by the lake, Y/l/n?" I followed the tall ginger with my eyes while he circled me and sat down by me. "You alright?"
"I just needed a break from... People." I vaguely explained, focusing on the water instead of on the boy besides me.
"Understandable." He hesitated for a second before adding, "Do you want me to leave?"
"No, it's fine." I surprised myself at how calmed and collected I sounded, as if I wasn't chatting with my crush.
"What happened to your hair?" His genuinely curious inquiry took me aback, and I struggled to find something to answer.
"Why?" My heartbeat picked up, anxiety inundating me once more. "You don't like it?"
"It looks weird." Fred looked at me up and down with a grimace. "You don't... Look like yourself." I was about to enter fight or flight mode, but he seemed to notice, and panic made its way to his face. "But it doesn't matter what I think," he was quick to add, his eyes wide open as if he knew he had said something he should have not. "I mean— I think it shouldn't matter, if you like it, that's great— I mean, you don't need my opinion about that either!"
"Calm down, I understand." I tried to reassure him, before his rambling drove the both of us crazy. "Can I tell you a secret?" He nodded with pursed lips, surely afraid he would fuck up if he spoke again. "I've been very insecure about my hair lately— like, very." I sighed. "My best friend told me not to straighten it, but last night I got a not so nice comment and—"
"So that's why you left?" I nodded, tugging my sleeves. Fred went silent for a moment, and then cleared his throat and scooted closer to me. "I know this won't do much, but I really love your hair. Kinda reminds me of fireworks and streamers." He gestured around his own head, mimicking the fireworks' movement. "Dunno I think is fun and pretty awesome." I raised my brows at him in surprise. "Like you."
"Aw, that's very sweet." He offered me a sheepish smile as I felt my cheeks blushing. "It does a lot, actually." I confessed, fidgeting with my rings. "I guess I kinda needed to hear something positive about my hair."
"Well, whenever you need to hear something positive about your hair," he pointed at himself. "I'm your man." He winked at me and I let out a chuckle. "I can also tell you positive things about you in general, but that has a price."
"And what is it?"
"You'll have to let me buy you a drink at The Three Broomsticks this Saturday." I tried not to let panic slip through my recently eased demeanor; was he asking me on a date? "And give me a kiss after." He wiggled his brows at me and my face turned red. "the kiss is negotiable."
I casted my gaze down, fixing it on my shoes, not sure of what I was supposed to say at that. His foot tapping mine snapped me out of my thoughts.
"So?" My eyes traveled to him once more, only to find his studying me already. "What do you say, Y/l/n?"
"Well," I shrugged, trying in vain to play nonchalant. "Seems like an affordable price, so it's fine by me."
"I'll pick you up after lunch, yeah?" Before I could agree, he gasped, his eyes going wide. "I'm a genius."
"Come again?" I frowned, confused as his sudden frantic behavior.
"Don't mind me, love." He jumped up and jogged towards the castle, leaving me puzzled in there. I was about to grab a book from my bag when Fred rushed back, crouched down and pecked my cheek. "Your hair's amazing." He assured me. "See you!" My fingertips graced my now flushed cheek as he headed off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was finishing my lunch when two towering redheads entered the Hall running; while George, slowed down, Fred made a beeline to the Hufflepuff table, his casual clothes already on.
"Ready?" He asked breathless.
"Yeah— you didn't have lunch, did you?" I pointed out, getting up to stand in front of him.
"No, but I'll eat something later—" his eyes roamed over my carefully picked outfit before stating, "You look... very pretty."
"Why, thank you." I offered him a smile and looked over my shoulder at the Gryffindor table, where his friends were very attentive to all we did. "You sure you don't wanna eat something?"
"Hundred percent." He tilted his head towards the gates. "shall we?" He prompted to walk before him, and it was then that I realized he had his hands behind his back. Once we were out in the yard, he tugged my hand and made me turn to him. "I made something for you."
"You didn't have to." Was the first thing that came to my mind when I heard his words. Then the wording dawned on me; he didn't get me something, he made me something. "What is it?"
"So, you know that I told you your hair reminded me of fireworks and streamers?" I nodded, not quite knowing where he was going with that. "Well—" he then showed me what his back was hiding; a delicate, tiny firecracker with my name written on the side. "George helped me so I could finish it on time."
"I'm—" at my loss of words, I could only let out a happy laugh. "This is so cute— am I supposed to ignite it?"
"Duh!" I gently pushed his shoulder in response to his teasing. "Do you know how to do it?"
"I've seen you do it plenty of times." I admitted, grabbing the firecracker with one hand and my wand with the other; it looked so pretty, it was a pity I'd have to ruin it.
With a brief firemaking spell, the firecracker set off. Fred pulled me back slightly before it happened, though.
I was in awe at the beautiful fireworks before us, which looked like a color-changing, expanding version of my hair.
When the colors died out, I turned to Fred, whose attention was already on me, awaiting for a reaction. Surely, he was not expecting the kiss he got, but he didn't complain either; while my hands rested on his chest, his traveled to cup my cheeks before I could pull away.
"So you liked it?" He questioned quietly against my lips.
"I loved it." I whispered back with a wide smile. "You're a sweetheart." I pecked his lips before retreating. Holding his hand in mines, I made my way back into the castle. "We're not leaving until you have lunch."
"You are a sweetheart." He responded, following my lead without offering resistance. "By the way, your hair looks gorgeous." The corners of my lips twisted into a bigger smile at the sweet words he spoke only for me to hear as we went back into the Great Hall.
Maybe my hair wasn't that bad after all.
#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley#fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader#fred weasley x you#fred weasley x gender neutral reader#fred weasley fanfics#fred weasley fluff#fred weasley fanfiction#fred lives au#fred x y/n#fred x you#fred x reader#fred x hufflepuff reader#gryffindor x hufflepuff#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter#fred weasley masterlist#fred weasley aesthetic
203 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Things You Give Pt 14
Steven Hyde x Read
Happy Holidays and New Years everyone! I can’t believe we’re already 14 parts in. I’m so glad you guys are loving the story! Tag list is open if you want to be a part of it :)
Beep, beep, beep.
The sound of the heart monitor was the only noise resourcing from the room. Hyde sat beside y/n, watching as her chest gently rose and fell, and listened to Red interrogate Eric from the hallway.
“What do you mean you don’t know what happened?!” Red asked him in his usual gruff tone.
“I don’t, Dad!” Eric defended. “All I saw is that she was sick and she was trying to get Fez and Hyde to stop fighting and she just dropped!”
“And you didn’t catch her?” Red fumed. “She could’ve gotten hurt!”
“Well, I didn’t expect her to fall!” he responded.
“Red, honey, your yelling isn’t making anything easier,” Kitty said quietly.
“For me it is!”
“Red,” she said more sternly.
“Well, have they figured out what’s wrong with her?” the worried father asked impatiently.
“No, they haven’t,” Kitty answered calmly.
“What’s taking them so long?” he grumbled. “We’ve been here for hours!”
Kitty blinked at her husband. “We’ve been here for twenty-five minutes.”
“And our daughter has been unconscious for forty! My little girl is in there now and I want answers, dammit!”
“Red, she’s fine,” Kitty said, trying to soothe him. “She’s tucked in a bed right now with monitoring and her breathing is normal. They drew her blood and we’re just waiting on the test results.”
“They need to come faster!” he shouted, causing Kitty to frantically look around and smile nervously as her coworkers stared at them.
“Hey, Mom, if Dad has another heart attack, at least it’ll save us another ambulance bill since we’re already at a hospital,” Eric said grinning, sarcasm bleeding into his tone.
“Can it, dumbass!” Red snarled.
Inside the room, y/n groaned, hearing the arguing from outside and slowly opened her eyes, seeing nothing but white. Her head felt someone was taking a jack hammer to her skull. Steven noticed and waited anxiously by her side.
“Why do they have to be so loud?” she mumbled.
Steven sighed in relief and grabbed her hand. “Are you okay? How’re you feeling?”
“I think so,” she croaked. “I feel like crap and I’m tired.”
Hyde chuckled softly and leaned over, kissing her head softly. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“What happened? Am I in the hospital?” she asked, not letting go of his hand.
Hyde paused, searching her face. “You don’t—? You fainted and hit the ground pretty hard. They think you may have gotten a concussion.”
“Well, that explains my headache,” she grumbled and rubbed her head. She looked at Steven who was still looking at her with worried eyes. “Where is everyone?”
“Your parents are out in the hall with your brother, Fez is here but went to find ice cream.” He rolled his eyes at the thought but continued. “And everyone else is on their way.”
“How long have I been out?”
“About forty-five minutes. I’m glad you’re okay,” he answered and pulled her hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss.
If it wasn’t for her head screaming at her, her heart would be fluttering away like butterflies, but all she wanted to do was numb the pain. A sharp pain surged through her skull, causing her to hiss.
“What’s wrong? Are you alright?” he asked her.
She tried to nod, but that caused more pain to her skull. “My head hurts. A lot.”
“That’s what happens when you smack your head on concrete,” he answered. “You have a pretty good-sized knot on your head.”
Y/n reached up and felt her scalp until she felt a painful bump behind the side of her head. She winced at her own touched. “Ow.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t do that,” Hyde chuckled. “I’m going to go get something to drink. Do you want anything?”
Her stomach churned at the thought of liquids and scrunched up her nose. “No, but I probably should. I’ll take a ginger ale if they have any.”
“You got it, doll,” he said and walked out just as the doctor was stepping in.
“Good afternoon, Miss Forman,” the middle-aged, dark haired man said. “I’m Dr. Kipp. I’ve been looking over you while you were out. How are you feeling?”
“Not gonna lie, Doc, I feel pretty lousy,” Y/n responded. “I’ve been sick for the last couple of days. Not being able to keep anything down, I’m achy all over…I’m starting to wonder if I have the stomach flu or something. On top of that, my head is killing me.”
“Well, you passed out due to your blood pressure dropping which caused a lack of blood to the brain, but it’s definitely not the stomach flu,” Dr. Kipp answered casually, setting down his clipboard as he went over to the sink to wash his hands.
“How do you know that?” Y/n questioned him.
“Well, it can’t be because you’re pregnant.”
--Time Skip—
“How’s y/n doing?” Donna asked as she got to the waiting room, flowers in hand.
“Oh, that’s so sweet that you got her flowers!” Kitty gushed, making Donna smile. “And she’s awake. The doctor is in there right now with her.”
“Oh, good,” she said and sat down next to Fez who was quietly eating ice cream. “Where did you get the ice cream?”
“Oh, I told them that y/n was my wife and they let me get ice cream!” he replied stoically.
“So, you’re telling me that you hit on her and now you’re telling people she’s your wife?” Hyde seethed, holding a cup of coffee in one and a ginger ale can in the other.
“Can you kids not fight for five damn minutes please?” Red asked impatiently. “It’s bad enough that we’re here, I don’t want to have to hear about your petty drama.”
“Hey, don’t get mad at me. You’re the reason she’s here in the first place,” said Fez.
“Why would it be your fault?” Kitty asked Hyde.
“It’s not!” Hyde replied. “He’s just saying crap so I can knock his teeth in.”
Kitty and Red squinted their eyes at the teens for a moment. “What on earth is going on here?” Kitty asked, growing frustrated.
“Nothing,” Hyde answered through gritted, glaring daggers at Fez.
Fez returned the glare. “You know, Hyde, I often wonder what it would be like to hook up with my best friend’s sister. Don’t you?”
Hyde’s expression hardened. “It’s a good thing we’re in a hospital because when I break your bones, you’re already here!” Hyde aggressively moved towards Fez, but was stopped short by Eric getting in between them.
“Okay! That’s enough,” he sang-song. “Hyde, why don’t you sit over there quietly and don’t beat up Fez.” He turned to Fez. “And Fez? Shut the hell up.”
Hyde jerked himself away. “I’m going to go give this to y/n.”
Back in the room, y/n felt like the wind had been knocked out of her lungs. “I’m…what?”
“Pregnant,” he responded in a faux enthusiastic voice. “That was through the blood test. We’re going to have you take urine test as well. So,” he pulled out a plastic cup. “You’re going to pee in this cup and when you’re finished, pull the string and a nurse will come in and collect it. Then, we’ll do a full examination on you to make sure your head is okay.”
Y/n nodded numbly and mindlessly grabbed the cup in her hand. “Okay…”
“Probably not the news you were expecting, huh?” he asked.
Y/n chuckled weakly. “No. Not at all.”
“Well, I’ll be back soon with your test results.”
He walked out the door, leaving y/n alone in the room. Her hands felt numb and she felt like there was static all around her. How could she be pregnant? How did she let this happen? And oh God, what was she going to say to Steven? Her eyes widened. Her parents?!
A sudden heavy weight was shattered onto her chest and her eyes began to water. How was she going to tell everyone? What if her dream came true and she truly was alone? Could she raise a baby on her own? Where would she live? What job would she have to do to support her baby? Was she even going to be a good mom? Will her children grow up to be decent people? What if they’re born with health conditions? Or they fall ill? Can she even count on herself to get out of bed at 2 AM to go to the 24 hour store to buy cough medicine when they get sick? How do you even change a poopy diaper? How is she going to react when they’re teenagers and they’re learning how to drive or get their first boyfriend or girlfriend? What kind of mom was she going to be? What kind father was Steven going to be? Will he even stick around?
With all these questions swimming through her head, she didn’t notice Steven walk back in. “I got that ginger ale you—hey, you okay?”
Y/n snapped her head up as she was yanked out of her thoughts, which she silently thanked heaven above for. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.”
“You sure?” he asked as he set down the drink on the table next to her. “You don’t look fine. In fact, you look kinda pale.”
“Yeah, um,” she stuttered, swallowing hard and waved her hand casually. “The doctor says I passed out due to lack of blood to the brain. Blood tests came back normal, but he wants me to take a urine test just to be sure.” Not a total lie. Just left out a part.
“Oh, okay. Do you need help getting to the bathroom?”
“I think I got it,” she answered truthfully and slowly got out of bed, barley able to feel her legs. She ambled her way to the bathroom, dragging the IV along with her. She felt Steven’s stare burning a hole in the back of her head, but she couldn’t think of what he was thinking right now. She couldn’t. It would drive her to an anxiety attack.
She closed the door quietly and baby stepped her way to the toilet. She passed by the mirror and did a double take to her reflection. Her ponytail was a complete rats nest, her eyes had dark circles under them, and her normally rosy cheeks had lost all color. She looked half dead and she wanted to cringe away. She turned her head to the side and saw the swelled up bump on her skull. She winced when she saw it and let out a sigh. She really wanted to curl up into a ball and sleep for 72 hours.
She made her way to the toilet and shakily did her business in the cup. When she was finished, she left in on the counter in the bathroom and pulled the string. After she was finished washing up, she walked out to meet Steven sitting in the chair.
“Hey,” he said gently whispered.
“Hey,” she answered in the same manner. “Where is everyone?”
“In the waiting room. Do you want to see them?”
Her heart dropped, but she needed to play it cool. “Yeah, that would be nice.”
He nodded and opened the door to call them in. She got back in bed with Hyde’s help, making sure her IV wouldn’t get pulled out of her arm.
“Oh, y/n,” Kitty sobbed and rushed over to y/n who was sitting up fully and wrapped her arms around her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Y/n barley reciprocated the hug. “I’m okay, Mom.”
“When we saw you being loaded up into the ambulance, I thought I was going to die right there,” Kitty responded, stepping away from her daughter.
“I’m fine, Mom. Really.”
“What did the doctor say?” she pried.
“Uh…they don’t know yet,” Y/n replied. “They’re taking a urine sample.”
“Well, a person fainting is never a good thing,” Kitty stated matter-of-factly. “It means your blood pressure dropped and you weren’t getting enough blood flow to the brain. Those things just don’t happen.”
“I know. They’re running tests right now,” Y/n said and leaned back against the pillows.
“When will we find out?” Red pushed.
“I don’t know,” Y/n responded growing annoyed. “I don’t know anything.” Lie, lie, LIE.
“Well, we better find out soon,” Red said. “This place gives me the creeps.”
“If you wanna leave, you can. I’m a big girl, I can leave on my own,” Y/n responded.
“No, no, I wanna be here in this room when the doctor comes and tells us what’s wrong,” Kitty said stubbornly.
Y/n’s heart and stomach dropped. There was no way anyone was going to be in this room when the doctor came back with the results. Positive or not, she didn’t need her parents asking questions and then finding out about her and Steven.
She kept her face and voice as calm as possible. “No, no it’s okay. Really. I don’t know if I want everyone in here anyway. In fact, it’s probably best that I’m alone.”
“Oh, nonsense. I—”
“Kitty, if she wants to be alone, then we’ll leave her alone. She’s an adult now. She doesn’t need us in here,” Red said, signaling to his wife that they leave. “Besides, the Packers’s game is on and I wanna go home.”
Kitty sighed, annoyed. “Fine. Fine, I’ll leave, but I want to hear everything, missy.”
Y/n’s eyes widened a fraction and her heart beat violently against her blood cage. She could practically feel her blood pumping through her veins. She nodded numbly. “Okay.”
Kitty nodded and kissed y/n on the head before leaving. She felt some tension leave her body as she watched her parents leave. She leaned her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes, feeling completely drained.
“Are you okay?” Donna asked.
“Yeah,” she mumbled. “Just…feeling depleted.”
“Well, you can’t go to sleep yet,” Hyde said. “You might have a concussion.”
“I want sleep,” she whined.
“I know, but I’d rather you be exhausted than not wake up at all,” he responded.
She glared at him through half open eye lids and grumbled, “I hate you.”
He chuckled lightly. “I know.”
The door to the room opened revealing Kelso, Fez and Jackie.
“Hey, y/n, how are you feeling?” Kelso asked.
“Bout as great as I look,” she replied, a weak smile playing her lips.
“So, super sexy,” Fez responded cheekily but that smile quickly faded when Hyde punched his shoulder. “Ow.”
“Remember: Respect,” was all Hyde said before sitting back down.
“I heard what happened,” Kelso responded. “And Brooke made me bring you these.” He handed her a small bouquet of yellow daisies and lilies.
Y/n chuckled, accepting the flowers. “Tell Brooke I said thank you for the nice gesture. And tell her to bring the baby around soon. I want to meet my niece.”
Kelso’s face brightened. “You…you really think of her that way?”
Y/n nodded. “Why wouldn’t I? We’ve all been best friends since we were little and it only makes sense that we look at each other more than just friends now.”
“Like lovers?” Fez asked her seductively.
“Do you have a death wish?” Hyde spat.
“Okay, Steven that’s enough,” Y/n said as sternly as she could. “And Fez, shut up.”
Fez pouted and went and sat in the corner of the room.
“You know what? My mind is made up,” Kelso said. Y/n stared at him curiously, everyone joining in.
“Kelso, in order for your mind to be made up, you have to have a brain,” Eric commented.
Kelso shot Eric a glare before turning his head back towards y/n and Hyde. “I’ve been spending a lot of time with Betsy lately and Brooke is really starting to trust me.”
“Okay, and that makes up your mind for?” Y/n asked him.
“Hang on, just let me finish,” he said smiling. “Brooke is starting to trust me so much she’s even allowing me to pick the godparents.”
“Oh, that’s great!” Y/n gleefully responded. “I’m so happy for you.”
“And there’s only one rule. It can’t be Fez,” Kelso added on.
Fez nodded. “That is a good rule.”
“Godparents?” Donna mumbled to Eric. “Like we need any more responsibilities.”
“I know,” Eric whispered back, rolling his eyes. “Such a burden.”
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot and it’s a big deal. So,” Kelso said, stepping closer to the bed where Eric and Donna sat. “Eric, Donna.”
“Uh, oh,” Eric sang-song.
“Please scooch over so I can ask Hyde and y/n if they’ll be Betsy’s godparents?”
Y/n looked at Hyde with excited eyes. “Really?!”
“What the hell?!” Eric exclaimed.
“Hyde and y/n?” Donna asked insulted.
“You picked Hyde and y/n?” Jackie asked, equally insulted. “Why didn’t you ask someone else? Like me?”
“Because you’re single,” Kelso deadpanned.
Jackie crossed her arms. “And?”
“And you need to be in a relationship to be a godparent,” Kelso responded slowly like he was scared to continue speaking. “That’s why they call it godparents. You can’t be single and be a godparent. That’s just stupid.” He laughed and rolled his eyes.
Jackie stared at him in disbelief, trying to make sense of what he said. “That barley makes any sense, you moron.”
“Hey, hey, hey, he chose us. Let him speak,” Y/n said not trying to contain her glee. “Not that I’m questioning your choice because, you know, you chose us, but why us?”
“Because I really trust you and I think you’d be fantastic with Betsy,” he responded sweetly.
“And you don’t think we won’t?” Eric asked.
“Yeah, you don’t trust us?” Donna chimed in.
“Well, to be fair, I’ve seen you drop almost everything you’ve held in your hands,” Kelso responded. “And you’ve never really taken care of a baby.”
“Yes we have!” Donna defended. “Remember that time last year when Laurie had to babysit that one baby and I ended up changing her diaper when she couldn’t? I was a freakin’ natural!”
“Yeah, I mean, if you gave me the honor of being godmother, I would be popular, head cheerleader, and voted best legs. This would give me another title,” Jackie argued.
“Would you guys relax?” Hyde asked everyone. “It’s not that big of deal.”
“Yeah, it’s not like he’s shunning you guys,” Y/n responded.
“You’re all still going to be aunts and uncles,” Kelso defended.
“Yeah, that’s easy for you to say,” Jackie grumbled and joined Fez in the back.
“We can be good godparents,” Eric argued. “You can trust us.”
“Eric, remember Goldie, the goldfish?” Y/n asked.
“Yeah,” he responded.
“Remember how you killed Goldie by taking him out of the fish bowl?”
“I needed to hug something,” Eric answered coldly. “Besides, I’m not going to have to flush a baby down the toilet!”
“Either way, man, thanks. I’m honored,” Hyde said and clapped his hand with Kelso’s and pulled him in for a bro hug.
“If I have another kid, I’ll make you two godparents. I promise,” Kelso said.
Eric huffed. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Alright, I have to take a leak,” Hyde announced.
“And I’m going to go find some more ice cream,” Fez said.
“Can you guys make sure y/n doesn’t fall asleep?” Hyde continued.
“You got it pal!” Kelso responded and watched as Hyde and Fez walked out.
“I’m not a child,” Y/n responded once they were out of ear shot. “I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, thank you.”
“Kelso!” Fez called out and barged back into the room. “Kelso, come quick! There’s a hot nurse fight happening downstairs! Hurry before it ends!”
“See ya,” Kelso said and scrambled out the room, leaving Jackie, Eric, and Donna alone.
“Yeah, I’m leaving too,” Jackie said pouting. “I don’t want to sit here and be reminded that I wasn’t picked for godparent. I may have to do some shopping therapy to get over it. Bye!” She squealed and walked out, leaving just the twins and Donna.
“Do you need anything sis?” Eric asked. “Some water? Fluff up your pillows? Relinquish your title of godparent over to me?”
Y/n gave her twin a look before scoffing. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”
“Fine. I’ll just go see if they have any teddy bears in the gift shop that reads ‘Not Quite the Best Godparents’ and maybe it’ll be tear absorbent!” With that, he stormed out the room, leaving Elena in stunned silence.
Donna rolled her eyes. “I better go after him. Last time I left him alone while he was upset, he thought I didn’t care about him anymore and didn’t speak to me for three days.”
She left, leaving y/n alone in the room. Again. She leaned back once more, enjoying the silence, but now that she was alone again, she realized just how loud the silence was. All she could think was pregnant, pregnant, pregnant.
“What am I going to do?” she mumbled to herself.
The door to the room opened again; Dr. Kipp entering once more.
“Hi Miss. Forman,” Dr. Kipp greeted. “We got your test results back.”
She gulped. “And?”
He sat down on the stool next to her bed and looked her in the eyes. “It’s positive.”
Her heart dropped completely, and it felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. “I’m pregnant?”
“I know this is a lot to take in, but we need to gather some more information from you so we can determine how far along you are. But first the basics. What’s your full name?”
“Y/f/n y/m/n Forman.”
He scratched her answer down on his clipboard. “Birthday?”
“May 18, 1959.”
“So, that makes you eighteen years old, correct?”
Y/n nodded.
“Okay, and your current address?”
“416 Edlebrook Ave.”
“Beautiful,” the doctor responded and looked up from his clipboard. “Do you know who the father is?”
Tears started to burn her eyes as she nodded her head. “I do.”
“What’s his name?”
“Steven James Hyde.”
“When was your last menstrual cycle?”
“Somewhere in mid September.”
“And today is October 19,” he said more to himself. “So, you are about three weeks along. Now, I’m going to give this information to the nurse and have her give you a pamphlet and a referral to an OB/GYN. I’ll have them give you a call to set up an appointment. Do we have permission to leave a message with someone if you’re not available?”
“Uh…no, just me is fine, thanks. I’m not ready to tell people yet.”
He nods. “Understandable. Now, let’s look at your head and see how you’re doing.” As he took out a flashlight and started examining her eyes, Hyde walked back in the room.
“Hey, Doc. How’s she doing?” he asked.
“Well, I’m not seeing any signs of concussion, so that’s good.” He turned off the light and started feeling around underneath her jaw to the back of her head where he felt her bump. She winced and he took note of it. “She seems great besides that nasty bump. Just put some ice on it if it starts to hurt and take some aspirin for the pain. Otherwise, you’re good to go.”
“What about her test results?”
Dr. Kipp glanced at y/n and saw her terrified look. He glanced back at Steven who looked worried. “Test results came back normal and she’s perfectly healthy.” He noticed Steven visibly relax. “Anything else, she may discuss with you at her discretion.”
Y/n mouthed a thank you to the doctor who gave her a subtle nod and finished writing his notes on his clipboard. “I’ll have a nurse discharge you. You have a good rest of your night and rest up.”
Y/n nodded. “Thank you.”
With that, he left the room, leaving y/n wanting to vomit—and not from feeling sick this time. She continued to sit in her bed, not being able to properly process the information. Her world felt fuzzy and she felt like she was going to pass out for a second time. She could hear Steven talking to her, but it was all garbled and muffled as if she were underwater. Was her dream right? Was she going to be disowned by her family? Is she going to disappoint her mother? Oh no, how is Red going to take this? She and Steven are dead. Dead like road kill.
She heard Steven’s muffled voice again, but this time louder. She blinked and looked up at Steven. “I’m sorry, what?”
He knitted his eyebrows at her. “I said, are you okay? Do you need help getting dressed?”
She shook her heavy head and slowly slid out of bed. “I should be okay.” She untied her hospital gown, allowing it to pool around her feet. She shivered as the cold air hit her bare skin and turned to see her clothes balled up in a plastic bag. She slowly started dressing herself and felt Hyde’s eyes burn into her the whole time.
She finally looked up at him as she finished putting on her pajama top. “What’s up?”
“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting different.”
She nodded, not being able to look him in the eye. “Yeah, I think so. Just still not feeling well and feeling a little disoriented from the fall. But I think I’m good.”
He eyed her for a minute. “Okay,” he responded slowly. “As long as you don’t pass out on me again.”
She chuckled. “I think I’ll be okay.”
A knock came at the door and the nurse walked in. “Okay, Miss Forman. Here are your doctor’s notes to help you feel better. Plenty of rest and fluids. And—” She noticed Steven listening to her and she looked back down at the pamphlet in her hands and slid the doctor’s notes over it. “Here’s everything you else need to know. If you have any questions, there’s a number you can call and if you don’t get better or start to feel worse, come on back in.”
Y/n thanked her and quietly gathered the rest of her stuff and headed out with Steven. He guided her slowly into the camino and started up the car. She rested her elbow on the windowsill of the door and leaned her head into her hand, feeling like sleep will overtake her any minute now. Hyde placed a gentle hand on her thigh and lovingly rubber circles with his thumb.
“Let’s get you back in bed, yeah?��
She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, not being able to form words in fear she would start crying.
The drive home was deathly quiet as rain started to fall. The only noise emitting was outside as the rain fell onto the windshield. Not being able to handle the silence, Hyde reached over and turned on the radio, allowing the music to softly fill the car. It eased the tension slightly, allowing y/n to relax.
He pulled up in front of a supermarket and put the car in park.
“What are we doing here?” she croaked.
“Do you want some soup?”
She gave him a small smile. “That would be nice. Thank you.”
He nodded and got out of the car, leaving it on so the heater would warm up y/n. Ever since the hospital, she’d been cold and not able to heat up as fast as she normally would. She shivered, realizing she didn’t bring a jacket or her robe. She looked around the car and noticed a blanket behind the driver’s seat. She wrapped her cold fingers around the soft material and realized it was their sex blanket. She crunched up her nose a little, noticing some stains. “Ugh, gross,” she murmured before placing the clean side on her. The stench of sex filled her nostrils, but luckily it didn’t upset her stomach more than it already was.
She waited in the car for a few more minutes with the blanket pulled up to her chin and listened to the music. Paul Anka came on, singing (You’re) Having My Baby.
“Would you look at that,” she grumbled and changed the station. Stevie Wonder’s Isn’t She Lovely was on playing. “What the…” she grumbled and changed it to another station. A country song this time was playing. One that y/n didn’t know, but it was better than the others, so she left it on. She listened to the lyrics as they went:
The girls in New York City, they all march for women's lib And better homes and garden shows, the modern way to live And the pill may change the world tomorrow, but meanwhile, today Here in Topeka, the flies are a buzzin' The dog is a barkin' and the floor needs a scrubbin' One needs a spankin' and one needs a huggin' Lord, one's on the way
Oh gee, I hope it ain't twins, again.
“Are you kidding me?” She reached over and turned off the radio, choosing to sit in silence.
Just then the driver’s door opened and Steven clambered inside with a container of chicken soup in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other. “Here you go, doll.”
“Awe, thank you, baby.” She grabbed the container from his hands and allowed the warmth to thaw her icy ones.
“You turned off the music?” he questioned and started to beat the pack against the heel of his hand.
“Yeah, there was nothing good on.” Technically not a lie.
“Ah, makes sense,” he responded and noticed the blanket. He snorted teasingly. “Cold?”
“No, no, I’m burning up actually. The blanket was so I could feel like I’m in hell.”
He threw his add head back laughing. “Take it easy, Firecracker. If I hada known you were cold, I would’ve given you my jacket.”
She smirked at him. “Nah, this is fine. Thanks. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to be cold.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said and stuck a cigarette between his lips.
Y/n’s eyes widened and quickly ripped it from him mouth.
“What the hell, y/n?”
“Uh, I’m still not feeling well enough. I don’t want hurl all over your car.”
He scrunched up his nose at her. “Fine. Fair point. But I’m smoking when I get back!”
Y/n shook her head at him. “What a rebel.”
“Damn straight,” he responded and turned the car on. “Don’t forget who you’re with.”
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
He smiled at her before backing up and driving them home for the night.
--Time Skip—
The next couple of days were brutal for y/n. Kitty wouldn’t stop interrogating her and y/n finally told something made up to get her off her back. Kitty didn’t believe her, but she backed off knowing she’ll be back again. She wanted so badly to tell Steven about her pregnancy, but every time she tried, it would come out a different sentence.
“I’m,” she would start, but right when she would look into his baby blue eyes, she would panic. “hungry. I’m hungry, starving! Can we go get something to eat?”
He would give her a weird look before agreeing and leaving to buy her food.
On top of that, morning sickness would rear its ugly head and she would end up being sick at the most random of times. She would be sitting down in the basement with her friends, feeling fine, but then she would feel her lunch coming back up and she would have to haul ass to the nearest restroom.
Everyone was worried about her, trying to get her to go back to the doctor, but she already knew. She had secretly made the appointment with the OB/GYN and wasn’t going to be able to see her until two weeks out. Until then, she had to keep lying and making excuses.
“It’s been almost a week,” Eric said one afternoon as they were all huddled into the basement. “You really should go back to the doctor.”
“I’d rather not,” Y/n said. “Going to the doctors for every sniff and cough is not my thing.”
“But it’s not just a sniffle or a cough,” he pointed out. “It’s like one minute you’re fine and then the next you’re throwing up Mom’s tuna casserole.”
“That was a long night,” she countered, remembering that night as she had to lay on the floor next to the toilet for hours because she couldn’t stop throwing up.
“Well, can you still keep down fluids?” Donna asked. “Like, chicken broth, orange juice, and tea?”
“Yeah, those are fine,” Y/n responded. “I just can’t seem to digest solid foods. But I was able to drink apple juice the other day with some bread. I’m also not nauseas all day anymore. I think I’m getting better.”
“Well, if you’re feeling better, wanna go shoot some hoops?” Kelso asked.
“Nah, but you guys can,” Y/n responded. “Me and Donna can just sit and ogle.”
“I knew you were checking me out,” Kelso purred and rubbed his chest.
“Not you, you dork,” Y/n said. “Hyde and Eric.”
“You ogle at me?” Eric said disgusted. “That’s gross.”
“No! Donna is, you dumbass!” Y/n said and stood up while Eric laughed. “Moron.”
She walked outside to the driveway with everyone behind her. As they reached the driveway, the boys split up into their group while Donna and y/n moved away to watch from the porch.
“So, Hyde, how’s it been with you and y/n?” Kelso asked under his breath, making sure the girls couldn’t hear.
“You know, things are going good, but with her being sick this past week, it’s been kinda hard not getting any action,” Hyde responded.
“Ewwwww! Could you please not?” Eric exclaimed. “I told you I don’t wanna hear it.”
“I know, that’s why I did it,” Hyde laughed and tossed the ball to Eric. “Your play. Go.”
The girls watched from the porch, admiring the way their men looked. Y/n wanted so badly to jump Hyde’s bones, but didn’t want to puke in the middle of it and ruin the mood. She and Donna chatted idly as they watched their men get sweaty and hot.
“Look, I know he’s your brother, but damn does he look hot when he’s all concentrated,” Donna swooned as she watched Eric block Fez’s slam dunk.
“Really? I think he looks constipated,” Y/n laughed.
In the middle of the play, Eric turned, facing them while trying to block Kelso from making his shot. The concentration he wore on his face made Donna drool but laugh.
“You’re right, he does look constipated,” she agreed and laughed even more.
“I know you don’t think so, but Steven just looks so good when he’s moving around like that,” Y/n said and stared at her boyfriend. “I mean, when he gets all sweaty and flushed, it makes me want him so bad.”
Donna chuckled. “So, how have you guys been?”
“We’ve been good. You know with me being this sick, we haven’t really gotten the time to do it or anything.”
“From the looks of it earlier and hearing Eric scream ‘ew’ makes me believe that Hyde already said something like that to him,” Donna laughed once more.
Y/n chuckled. “Sounds about right.”
They fell into a comfortable silence as they watched the four boys play basketball. The entire time, y/n’s heart was hammering against her chest, debating on telling Donna right there. She couldn’t take keeping a secret this big from her best friend. Besides, if she wasn’t going to tell someone soon, she was going to explode.
“Donna,” she said shakily. “I have something to tell you.”
Seeing how serious her tone was, Donna perked up. “What?”
“I need you to promise me that you’re not going to freak out. Because if you do, everyone will hear it and I can’t have that right now.”
Donna’s heart started beating wildly against her own ribcage, now nervous and worried. “Okay?”
“And whatever happens, promise me you’ll still be my friend?”
“Of course! What’s going on?”
Y/n took a deep breath before looking Donna in the eye. At that moment, she wanted to crawl up in a bawl and just cry. But she knew she couldn’t; She had to be strong. So instead she let out a shaky breath.
“I’m pregnant.”
@lieswithoutfairytales @mdittyz123 @n-dg-wm @undead-sierra @random-thoughts-003 @taysirene
#that 70s show#That '70s Show#that 70's show fanfic#Steven Hyde#steven hyde x reader#steven hyde x y/n#Eric Forman#red forman#kitty forman#Donna Pinciotti#fez#jackie burkhart#Michael Kelso
204 notes
·
View notes
Text
WIP... Tuesday?
Just in case anyone was wondering what useless novelty project I’m spending my time on now, may I introduce:
Or more accurately: “Shisui Uchiha and the Saga of the Overly Complex Movie Poster that’s Taking Up all of the Author’s Writing Time.”
Or: “Shisui Uchiha and the One-off Story that Accidentally Turned Into a Trilogy, much to the Author’s Total Lack of Surprise.”
So anyway, I have 30,000 words (3/9 chapters of the first part) so far and as usual, no timeline for completing this story. But I’m definitely in too deep to back out now! My new approach to stories is to write the whole thing, then post week by week. So this one is still probably several months away at least...
But here’s a quick preview:
The list of things Shisui Uchiha regrets in his life is pretty small.
A handful of ill-considered one night stands, several embarrassing bets with members of his family, the summer he decided to turn emo, oh—and one particularly notable fuck-up early in his career that very nearly ended it prematurely. But, for the most part, it’s been smooth-sailing.
Sure, maybe the odd rival takes a pot shot at him here or there. Ancient booby traps try to kill him, or the local wildlife steps in where they’ve left off. He and spiders are categorically never going to get along. But he’s never had cause to regret his career itself. He loves everything about treasure hunting—the adventure, the danger, the intellectual challenge of it all. The way his heart races when he finds some ancient artifact supposedly lost for good.
So, all in all, his current position—perched twenty feet up a silk cotton tree in India, surrounded by about two-dozen armed thugs personally out for his blood—well, that’s just another day at the office.
Two of the men walk below Shisui’s hiding place and he holds his breath, watching. They’re thick-built meat-heads; improbable amalgams of every jackbooted thug to ever grace a movie screen, with jawlines Chuck Norris could break a fist on, and brows that would make a Neanderthal proud. Supressing the snicker that threatens to escape him at the thought, Shisui wonders where Gato keeps finding these idiots. Some sort of steroid-fuelled body building conference maybe…
Comfortable they’re far too stupid to realise he’s here, he swings his legs back and forward, checking his bag to make sure his prize is still undamaged. Thankfully, despite having beaten a hasty retreat through the crowded city streets, the jewel-encrusted golden elephant winks up at him like a winning lottery ticket. One that’s going to pay for fancy canapes, champagne and extra leg room on Shisui’s flight home. Then a lot more afterwards.
But karma, as they say, is a bitch.
And karma, for Shisui, makes itself known in the form of a fluffy grey creature that plops down onto the branch beside him, joined in short order by half a dozen other partners in crime. At first, the macaque just fixes its intelligent gaze on Shisui, as though assessing what to do with him. Then, one very pregnant pause later, after the apparent realisation that no food is immediately forthcoming, the ringleader opens its mouth and screams. Loudly.
Shit.
“No, shhh…” Shisui orders in a loud whisper. “Oh come on, don’t be an asshole.”
The screaming continues, soon swelling to a cacophony as the others join in.
“Shoo!” he pleads, waving his arms around to try and scare them off. “I’ll buy you bag of bananas or something when I get down from here, just please shut up…”
But the little bastards don’t stop and, if anything, Shisui’s heated objection only seems to be pissing them off more. Which is fantastic, because truly the last thing he needs today is to catch rabies or—
From the bottom of the tree, someone clears their throat. “Ahem.”
Or that.
It’s smug, officious, and quite frankly, about the last voice Shisui wants to hear right now. Every part of him sinks. On reflection, maybe it was a bit arrogant to think he wouldn’t have been followed to the temple. To think he was just going to walk in, pilfer a several-centuries old treasure, and walk out again, a comfortable five-figure sum the richer for it.
But then, it wouldn’t be the first time.
Sighing, he looks down to see his least-favourite human approximation of a turd. “Gato.”
“Well, well, if it isn’t my favourite globe-trotting Uchiha. Fancy seeing you here,” Gato says, appearing inordinately pleased. His trademark sunglasses sit awkwardly atop his bulbous nose, straddling a pencil moustache that looks like a worm met its unfortunate end on his face some years ago, and he never bothered to wipe it off.
For reasons he can’t currently articulate, it annoys the shit out of Shisui. Possibly because if there’s anything he hates more than someone getting the better of him, it’s someone who’s as much of a fucking waste of space as Gato getting the better of him.
“Yeah well, you know how it is,” he says, glancing around for a quick exit. “Ancient treasures to find, damsels in distress to rescue…”
But unfortunately, the crowd of highly armed men around Gato is growing by the second, and Shisui’s options are looking somewhat thin on the ground. At least, all the ones that don't end with him riddled in bullet holes. Damn macaques…
Gato grins. In the pre-monsoon heat, sweat rolls down his neck and spreads like an oily stain across his collar. “Oh, I’m well aware of how you operate... You’re a businessman, just like me. Always taking jobs for the highest bidder.” Before Shisui can open his mouth to disagree, Gato holds up a hand, adding, “I know, I know… you don’t see yourself that way. Moral code or whatever it is you like to call it. But in reality, the only difference between us is that you have the air of legitimacy that comes with an academic backing, whereas I’m willing to admit what I really want.”
“And what do you want, Gato?” Shisui asks flatly, already knowing the answer. The tired old game they’re playing here.
“That trinket you have in your bag.” Gato licks his lips, as though he can taste the champagne he’s going to be drinking once he returns the statue to whoever hired him, to disappear into some private collection, never to see the light of day again.
“What do I get in return?” Shisui asks, even though it’s obvious from Gato’s expression that he’s not going to like it, whatever it is.
A mirthless laugh assaults his ears. “I’ll let you live to cross paths with me another day.”
As offers go, it’s not very believable. But as much as Shisui hates to admit when his luck’s run out, even he can see the writing on the wall. Today really isn’t his day. Sure, he might trust Gato about as far as he could throw him, but even Gato isn’t stupid enough to shoot him on a main street, in broad daylight. Probably…
Retrieving the golden elephant from his bag, Shisui tosses it carefully down.
Turning the trinket over in his hands, Gato lets out a hum of appreciation. “Very nice. My client will be pleased.” He hands it off to one of his many thugs to box up, then peers back through the branches, looking more like a slug than Shisui would ever have thought possible. Reinforcing the impression, his lips twist with a slimy smile. “Well, as always, it’s been nice doing business with you Shisui. But I think, unfortunately, you’ve caused me trouble for the last time.”
Far too pleased for Shisui’s taste, Gato steps back, raising his hand in a gesture that looks awfully like it’s intended as a final farewell. Or a smug ‘fuck you.’ Either way, the message is perfectly clear.
Shisui rolls his eyes, mentally scratching off another predictable villainous turn on his treasure hunting bingo card. “All right,” he calls after Gato’s retreating back. “Nice doing business with you too! See you next time...” Under his breath he mutters, “Asshole…”
Truly, Gato doesn't have an original bone in his body. It's like he once read The Idiots Guide to Being a B-Grade Movie Villain, then internalised it on the spot to make up for a lack of anything remotely resembling a personality. But, pathetic imitation of a villain or not, his bullets are still effective.
The leaves around him shred beneath the pop, pop of gunfire as Shisui sucks in a rushed breath, bracing himself for what he’s about to do. The branch wobbles precariously beneath his feet as he races along it, pushing off into air that rushes past, disconcerting and empty. The slender gap to the building seems to widen to the span of a gaping abyss—
He hits the rail of the apartment with thud, clambering quickly over it to fall on his back on the balcony, winded, but mercifully unharmed. A macaque peers over the guttering at him, with a leering grin that clearly threatens more screaming.
“Don’t you start,” he warns, waggling a finger at it.
But there’s barely a moment to catch his breath before the sound of splintering wood below indicates another problem. Or an extension of the same one. Bounding to his feet, Shisui scoops up his hat, settles it back on his head, and checks over the railing. A bullet clips the plaster nearby—a pretty good indication that Gato’s men have every idea where he’s gone. That, combined with the way they’re currently pushing through the lower doors to the complex probably doesn’t mean anything good for him.
“Shit,” he announces to no one in particular. It’s times like these he really wishes he carried a gun…
Forcing his way into the mercifully empty apartment off the balcony, Shisui slips quickly through it. Cracking open the door on the far side, he checks the coast is clear. It is.
Of course, it doesn’t stay that way for long. Halfway along the open air corridor, there’s a cry of discovery from his pursuers, followed by more shooting. Seriously, why are the bad guys always bringing guns to Shisui’s knife fights?
Ducking, he runs faster, bursting into another apartment filled with hazy cigarette smoke and shocked faces before finally making it to an exterior stairwell on the far side. Looking at the next building over, it’s immediately apparent the gap is way too far for him to use the same trick he did before. But with Gato’s men advancing on him from below, maybe he can just make it to street level and bypass them altogether…
A thicket of power cables criss-crosses the span between the buildings, with one nearby running almost to the level of the shop awnings below. Sending a rash of silent prayers to whatever gods take care of Indian power line maintenance, Shisui detaches a length of rope from his belt and flings it over the wire, gripping each side like a makeshift zipline. Holding his breath, he pushes off into empty space. To his surprise and considerable delight, the line holds.
It sweeps him across the street, picking up more and more speed, until the side of the other building is rushing at him like—
Shit.
He impacts it with his shoulder, coming to an uncomfortable and jarring stop. Pain shoots down his arm and he lets go of the rope, crashing through a fabric awning and landing ungracefully in a huge stack of bagged flour. Dust floats down around him and Shisui groans, moving each of his limbs in turn. By some miracle, nothing seems broken. Not even his tantō in its leather holster at his back.
Oh well. Fall down seven times, stand up eight…
Apparently his exit was none too subtle though, because Gato’s men are leaning over the stairwell railing, yelling and pointing at the mess he’s made. Dragging himself to his feet, Shisui evades an angry store owner, brushes flour off of his clothes and resumes running for his life.
Never let anyone say archaeology is boring.
As he emerges back onto the main street, searching for quick and easy exit, the sound of screeching brakes and angry honking carries from the road. Cutting a wild path through traffic is an old open-top olive-drab Jeep with several gold charms dangling from its rear-view mirror. It jerks to a stop just before hitting Shisui, both side wheels riding up on the curb.
“Need a ride?” the female driver asks, grinning.
Her windswept hair hangs past the fashionable silk scarf tied at her neck. Unmanicured nails wrap around the slender metal of the steering wheel, like they couldn’t be more at home there. They’re a stark contrast with the cream suit linen she’s wearing, rolled up neatly to her elbows. Speckled with dirt, it looks like she’s probably travelled halfway across the country to be here, and been up to her elbows in the grease of the Jeep’s engine at some point to do it. She’s a walking contradiction—albeit one Shisui is delighted to see.
“Izumi!” he exclaims happily.
Eyes sparkling, she waves. “Hey.”
“I thought you were practicing on the course in Reno this weekend… What’re you doing here?”
A shot rings out, kicking up dust near one of the tyres. Glancing behind him, Izumi rolls her eyes, reaching across to throw open the door. “What am I always doing? Saving your ass, you idiot... Now get in before one of us gets shot, or I have to find out whether my rental insurance covers illegal firefight damage.”
#uchiha shisui#uchiha izumi#future shisuita#new story#my art#really having fun writing this one#I'm such a sucker for adventure movies#and snarky team banter#and this combines both#aaaaand we've just been thrown into another covid lockdown#so more writing time here I come!#Shisui Uchiha and the Lost Treasure of Asura
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tracing Time
Monday, 15:18
Song: The Neighbourhood - Reflections
The clock at the front of the lecture hall is too far away for Sander to actually hear its ticking, but it feels like it’s louder than the tapping of his pen where he’s drumming it against his notebook. This is propped open with only a few lines of actual notes and a lot of doodles, with a quick, ragged sketch of Robbe on the bottom half of the page. Sander sighs quietly to himself as he fails his futile attempt to listen to the professor, and goes back to the drawing to add on some extra shading and more careful detail.
This is so much easier to get caught up in. Time disappears when it comes to art or Robbe, so combining the two is similar to falling into a black hole. The gravity of it is so strong, making it impossible for Sander to escape as time stops and everything else ceases to exist. He gets eaten up in it, lost until the point where everything whites out but the scratch of pen on paper and the familiar shape of Robbe’s eyes. There is no talking or ticking to make him want to peel his skin off (or at least fidget about in his chair).
It’s not the best plan, however, because he zones out a little too completely. He doesn’t realise that the class has ended until a girl clears her throat next to him, standing in the aisle and waiting to get past. Sander whips his gaze around and notices his other classmates already filing out of the room.
He flushes, muttering an apology as he quickly gets to his feet and presses back to let the girl and her friend slip past him. She glances down at his notebook as she passes and her lips quirk in a knowing smile, but she merely says, “Cute. Nice work on the lips.”
Sander’s blush deepens, but he returns her smile and manages to thank her quietly before she slips away. Her friend raises her brows and smirks at him, but doesn’t say anything as she follows. He lets out a breath and slumps back against his now folded-up chair, taking a moment to collect himself. He snatches up his bag and hastily stows away his belongings, only taking time to carefully close the notebook and tuck it in between the others in his bag. He trots down the steps and almost makes it to the door without any further embarrassment, and then the professor is calling his name.
Lars Coomans isn’t Sander’s favourite professor, only because he teaches art theory rather than anything practical. Sander doesn’t mind learning about history when he finds the subject interesting, but that only happens about twelve percent of the time. (Again, this isn’t Lars’ fault.) The man is not his favourite professor, but he might be one of his favourite people. He’s a tall man in his late forties with a tiny bald patch on the right side of his head and a soft voice. He’s relatively laid back and certainly kind.
For this reason, Sander doesn’t even feel the need to groan as he hangs back, even while the last stragglers shoot him curious looks on the way out. Lars waits until they’ve left to smile at Sander and lean back against his desk, head tilted as he considers his student.
Now, Sander begins to feel a bit nervous.
“How are you, Sander?”
The question is kind, careful, and it baffles him. He knows that all of his professors are aware of his illness, but none of them make a habit of checking up on him. They’re aware, from when he misses a week or two of classes or, on the rare occasion, needs to ask for an extension on an assignment. They’re aware, but beyond that, it doesn’t come up. No one makes a fuss about it and he’s grateful. And maybe Lars isn’t, either, maybe it’s just his kindness sprouting in the start of the conversation, nothing more than a mere courtesy. But the searching way he’s looking at Sander makes him hesitant, and he clasps his right hand around his left wrist and shifts on his feet before clearing his throat. He decides to take the casual route. “I’m fine, how are you?”
Lars seems to relax, lips quirking further for a moment before he shakes his head and waves a hand. “Oh, good, good, thank you. No, I’m not trying to be nosy, I just ask because you didn’t submit your assignment before noon today.”
Sander blinks. “Sorry?”
“The papers that were due this morning?” Lars blinks back, tilting his head. When Sander continues to stare at him blankly, he offers, “On the renaissance?”
Oh. Sander’s mouth opens and closes for a moment before he finds his voice. “But that’s not due until Friday evening?” It comes out as a question as his brow furrows in confusion. He’s sure the two assignments weren’t due in one day, and he frequently checks his calendar. He’s lost, and he’s beginning to panic slightly.
“No, it was due today,” Lars says softly, searching again as he crosses his legs at the ankles and taps the edge of his desk. “Daems has an assignment due on Friday, I believe, you have him, don’t you?”
Realisation hits abruptly. “Fuck,” he breathes, raising a hand to cover his face. “Shit, sorry. I don’t know—I must have mixed the dates, put the classes in wrong.” Stupid, stupid, stupid.
But Lars just nods, his whole posture softening in understanding. “Alright,” he sighs. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up, it’s an easy mistake. Can you get it to me by the end of the day?”
Sander swallows. “I haven’t started it,” he admits. He’d started doing the research, but he didn’t even have enough of that yet. He would be lucky to finish that by the end of the day, never mind the paper itself.
“Okay, well, you thought you had until Friday.” Lars rubs a hand over his chin and finally just shakes his head. “Alright. I’ll put you down for an extension until the time you thought it was due. And at least you don’t have the other one to worry about now, since I’m assuming that means you submitted it this morning.”
Relief flows through Sander in streams, but the banks are prickled. He purses his lips tightly and squeezes his wrist. “Lars, I just fucked up. I don’t have a good excuse, I don't want any pity.”
“No,” Lars immediately protests, pushing away from his desk to stand closer to Sander. “It’s nothing of the sort. No pity, or special treatment. You explained you made a mistake and I’ve no reason not to trust you.” He sighs, shaking his head. “You’re one of the best students here, Sander. I know because I pass that work of yours on the street every day. Even someone that good has to slip up sometimes, hm?”
Sander can only stare at him, feeling his cheeks warm again. He ducks his head, embarrassed at the compliment and the thought of his professor seeing the magnitude of his sappy love on a regular basis.
Lars only chuckles, bumping Sander’s shoulder. “I know I’m teasing, but I mean it. You’ve never even asked me for an extension before. I know you weren’t just slacking off. It feels bad, I know, but it’s not a big deal, kid. Just brush it off and then get it done, alright?”
Sander considers him. Then with a deep breath, he nods and murmurs, “Thank you.”
“Don’t stress.” Lars squeezes his shoulder, then waves him away. “Come find me or email me if you have any questions, okay? Now go on, no need to hang around an old man any longer.”
Sander huffs, but offers him one last nod and grateful smile before making his way out. As soon as he’s passed through the door, he falters in his step and his eyes close, anger towards himself returning with a vengeance. How could he have made such a stupid mistake? How has it taken this long for that to happen?
He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes for a moment, willing the frustration away. It doesn’t work entirely, but he manages a few slow breaths and collects himself enough to leave. He doesn’t think too much about where he’s going, just follows the feeling and lets his feet carry him to his bike, then pedal automatically through the streets.
The garage comes into view, and Sander tucks his bike away before rapping his knuckles against the door, not having to think about the familiar knock beyond muscle memory. His feet are tapping on the ground, and he does his best to shake the nerves out of his skin as he waits.
He’s not in full panic mode yet, not really. The only thoughts he can conjure are more swears and variations of stupid, stupid, stupid. He needs something distracting enough to quiet these rants down, but mindless enough that he can attempt to sort his thoughts out.
This is part of the reason he can’t go to Robbe, no matter how much he wants to. Robbe will be too kind. Too soothing. He’s the only one ever able to fully drown out Sander’s thoughts enough so that he stops being unkind to himself.
He doesn’t want that, at the moment. He thinks he deserves this more.
This being the frustration that leads him to bang the rhythmic code on the door once more when he doesn’t get an answer.
“Woah,” a familiar voice interrupts. “You’re not usually the kind who breaks in by knocking the place down.”
Sander turns slowly on his heel to face Adi. The man (as Sander considers him, because he is actually three years older and holds genuine wisdom on occasion) is staring him down in amusement. Quite literally staring down, as he has a good few inches on Sander, but he often leans back and slouches his shoulders to make up for it. He’s only about as tall as Jens, really, but he’s broader and looks overall bigger and more intimidating.
Robbe might be tiny next to him, and Sander might find it adorable, but Robbe is also completely unfazed because of long-time exposure to Jens.
Which is only mildly disappointing. (Robbe is extra adorable when he’s both dwarfed and flustered.)
“Sorry,” Sander says sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “I didn’t think that there might not be anyone here. I should’ve texted you first.”
Adi just huffs and moves to open the door, shaking his head fondly. “Yeah, that would’ve been easier on your hands.” His own light-brown hand is slender and quick as he unlocks the door, movements as automatically familiar as Sander’s when he’s drawing.
They don’t speak even as they make it inside. Adi traipses around quietly to turn on lights and check up on everything, weaving between trucks, and Sander moves through to the back of the room to the piece he’s been working on. He throws his bag down and immediately crouches to examine his paint cans, eyes flickering between them and his work as he debates where to pick up again. Adi joins him after a moment, but still hangs back, leaning against the wall behind Sander silently.
Sander thinks this is probably why Adi might actually be his best friend, because he has known Adi even longer than his group from the Academy and Adi understands him just as well as Lucas.
“I fucked up,” Sander says eventually, so quietly he’s unsure if Adi hears him over the spray of the can. He’s ready to repeat himself in the responding silence, but then Adi is standing at his side.
Adi tilts his head. “Not with Robbe.”
“No,” Sander agrees, and finds some relief in it. At least it isn’t Robbe.
“Another friend?”
“School.”
“Oh. Bad?”
Sander lets his hand fall to his side and sighs. Adi is calm and curious but not comforting, nothing more than a steady presence next to him. It allows Sander to reorder his thoughts into something he can actually articulate. “No, it’s not even a problem, really. I just made a mistake and it’s pissing me off.”
“But it’s not a disaster?” Adi tilts his head further.
“Probably not.” When Adi only continues to stand and look, he heaves another sigh. “I mixed up the dates for two assignments and submitted the wrong one today, meaning I missed the actual deadline for the other. But he’s just giving me that time as an extension, because apparently I’m a good student. Can you fucking believe that?”
Adi’s lips finally quirk, his amusement returning at Sander’s incredulous, exasperated exclamation. “No, I can’t, actually. But then again you’re kinda art obsessed, so maybe.”
This time Sander blows out a breath that can’t really be considered a sigh, with the farting noise that accidentally accompanies it. He wipes a hand over his mouth as if it will erase the sound while Adi barks a laugh.
“So you’re just pissed because your brain did you dirty,” Adi summarises.
Sander grimaces, but nods. “And wondering how it’s taken this long for me to fuck up like that.”
“Maybe because you’re not a fuck-up.” Adi raises a brow pointedly, but Sander simply waves him off. The sentiment is kind, but it doesn’t change the fact that he fucked up. Then Adi adds, “And anyone can get their wires crossed like that. You’re not that unique.”
It draws a snort out of Sander against his will. It doesn’t matter that he knows what Adi is really trying to say, hears the reassurance and reminder tucked within the words; the blatant dry tone it comes out in startles him enough to set it off. Adi’s forming grin doesn’t match it and makes it easier for Sander to see through him, but he’ll let him away with it this once.
He knocks his paint can against Adi’s shoulder. “Thanks.” It’s much more clearly genuine than Adi had been, and more than Sander expected himself to give, but he does feel better and he appreciates it. It doesn’t matter that ‘thanks’ is as difficult as ‘sorry’; that just means Adi will know he means it.
Sander is sure of it when Adi simply nods in response, turning to examine Sander’s artwork rather than put pressure on him to figure out his expression. He watches on as Sander gets back to work, and eventually shifts to lean back against the wall. “Things are good with Robbe, then?”
“Yeah, always.” Sander smiles, unbidden, at the simple mention. He doesn’t feel the need to be embarrassed about it, even when Adi huffs.
“It’s your birthday tomorrow,” he notes, and Sander pauses. “Any special plans?”
Sander stays still for a moment, and then shrugs, putting his arm into motion again. He hasn’t thought about it. He might have been avoiding thinking about it. “Unless it’s a surprise. I know I’ll see Robbe, but that’s it. I do that everyday.”
“You not hanging out with all of them? What about Gilles and his gang, and Lucas and whoever?”
Sander’s mouth twitches, but he quickly schools it away. “I’ll see the guys at uni and maybe Lucas if we go to the flat or I pick Robbe up at school.”
He can just see Adi in his peripheral, and catches his thoughtful nod and careful bite of the lip. “Right, right. You ever planning on bringing him here again?”
“Robbe?” Sander asks, just to be a little shit.
“Fuck, no. I love him, I do, but he’s hardly an artist. Nah, Lucas.”
Sander brings Lucas at least twice a month, and Adi knows it. “They’re all busy with school. Final year and all that.”
“Yeah, but he’s applying to the Academy right? So, technically, this is like studying.”
“Do you want to see Lucas again, Adi?” Sander asks, mustering as much mock-astonishment into his tone as he can.
He receives a scoff for his efforts. “You know it’s not like that, you fucking asshole.”
“Good, because you know, he has a boyfriend, Adi.”
“Who happens to be Robbe’s best friend and your kind-of friend, yeah, yeah, I know. I also happen to be straight, dickhead.” He cocks his head at Sander and his lips slip into a smirk. “While you also have a boyfriend, and you’re whipped as hell for him, and yet look who you still came running to to kiss your boo-boos.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Sander says this time, tossing the now-empty spray can at him. Adi dodges with a startled noise followed by his low, booming laughter, and Sander just shakes his head and marvels at his quiet mind.
~^~
previous/next
53 notes
·
View notes