#it’s a little late to blow myself up so i took away the little sparkles on the insane box and now i’d say we’re even
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tallytals · 1 month ago
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should I ask you about the fuckass blond kid for character bingo. I am
sighs so fucking sadly. hi rori love
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blackhairedjjun · 7 months ago
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staying afloat - k.th
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pairing: kang taehyun x gn reader | genre / tropes: angst, argument -> makeup, implied friends to lovers, office worker!taehyun, the subtlest of love confessions | word count: 899 | warnings: burnout and exhaustion from overwork
part of my 300 followers event (event masterlist)
prompt - HEAT: while engaged in a passionate argument with one another, sender, in the heat of the moment, blurts out “i love you!” to the receiver. think of like, that glorious trope where people have a huge argument and then suddenly sb drops the mic with “because i’m in love with you!” and silences the other person. u know the trope! (requested by anon)
author's notes: HI ANON im sorry this took sooooo long. as i said, this was hard for me to write bc i already did the heat prompt twice before and i didn't want to be too repetitive with the arguments... the argument here is a bit calmer and more one-sided on yn's part but i hope it still works!
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“you are running yourself into the ground, taehyun!” you grab his shoulders and give him a little shake. taehyun watches you closely, and you can see the darkening circles under his eyes. 
he’s still standing before the threshold of your home, right in front of the door. with just one step he could walk in if you weren’t blocking his way. outside, the night air is so cold that you shivered instantly upon opening the door for him. the sky is dark, with neither moon nor stars, and the only light comes from the fluorescent bulb at the doorway.
“y/n, you’re up working too,” he says. his voice is steady but firm. “you can’t tell me what not to do when you’re also working like this.”
“i’m doing overtime for just one night, for god’s sake. but you 一 you’ve been so busy and tired for what, two weeks? you forget to answer my texts. forget!” you throw your hands up. “and you’ve never forgotten before, not in all the years that i’ve known you.”
taehyun stuffs his hands into his pockets and his gaze flickers away from yours for a second before it returns. though he tries to stand his ground, you notice the soft look in his eyes, laying bare the tiredness and worries weighing down on him.
“well, i’m here now. why won’t you let me make it up to you?”
“because it’s one in the morning and you’ve been staying up late for overtime and extra projects for what, two weeks now? you go home late and you wake up early, your boss dumps all this work on you, and you barely get any time off!” you take a step closer, now fully exiting the warmth of your home, to stand so close to him. “please, taehyun. it’s not that i don’t want to see you, but you’re so, so tired. i can see it in your face.”
you reach out to touch his face, but his expression goes taut and your hand hovers just inches away. he turns away from you before you can scan his eyes for the tired look you saw; a cold breeze blows by, causing both of you to shiver and pushing the bangs away from taehyun’s forehead.
he looks... sadder than what you remember. you remember how easily his face would light up before he took on his new position at his job; he would smile at the smallest of your remarks, his big eyes sparkling like jewels. you thought of the steady stream of texts from him day after day, reminding you to eat or commenting on a silly photo you took, and how that stream soon turned into a trickle. the memories make your body feel heavy.
taehyun says nothing for a few moments and just lets out a sigh. when he looks back at you there’s a pained look that wasn’t there before, and you feel an ache in your chest at the sight.
 “y/n, i... i don’t want you to worry about me like this. i can’t... i can take care of myself. please, please just trust me. i hate watching you worry like this.”
“oh, you hate watching me worry?” your tone rises before you even realize it. “and i hate watching you turn into this! you’re exhausted, taehyun. you’re not yourself anymore. i can’t even remember the last time i saw you smile! do you know how much it hurts to see the person you love lose himself like this?”
you tremble in your spot and your words start to trip over themselves. your emotions pile onto each other, keeping you from speaking straight: some anger, yes, but mostly disappointment, worry, loneliness, fear. “i ha一 i hate seeing you like this, taehyunie. i can’t一 i can’t watch一 i love you too much to see this一”
taehyun cuts you off to pull you into a hug. he holds onto you so tightly, as if trying to wrestle you away from the emotions gripping you. one of his hands makes his way through your hair. angry tears prick at your eyes but you relax in his hold, finally letting out a sob.
“i’m sorry,” he says, his hand combing through your hair then rubbing your back. “i know you’re just looking out for me... and you’re right. i am exhausted...”
something shifts and now you feel his full weight on you. now you’re the one holding him, his head moving to rest in the crook of your neck, his shoulders fully slumped. the weeks of exhaustion have finally caught up to him, and you wrap your arms around his waist to prop him up.
“i’m sorry, y/n,” he repeats. “for not... listening to you... for forgetting...”
your hold on him tightens and tears stream down your face, but you manage to speak. “i just don’t want you to hurt yourself...”
neither of you say anything more. taehyun doesn’t let go of you and sinks fully into your touch; despite the chill night air, he’s still warm in your arms. you let your tears fall freely as you keep a firm hold on the friend you love, as if letting go of him means he will sink and drown.
the night is so quiet that the murmur he lets out against your neck still comes out loud and clear.
“i love you too.”
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quindolyn · 4 years ago
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Yes, Sir || Remus Lupin
Request: If you’re comfortable writing it could you maybe write a Remus smut where he’s really playing into a size kink and just man handling and throwing you where he wants you? -anon
Word Count: 4410
Notes: Agh! This is my first time writing full fledged smut, I hope you enjoy it. @st0nesnglitter proof read it for me, I couldn’t bring myself to read it again so I attribute all errors to her 
Warnings: Smut, degradtion, size kink, thigh riding, sir kink, professor/student relationship, poorly written, openended cop out
Masterlist
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You were lying on your stomach, sprawled along Remus’ king size, four poster bed, face pressed up against a random book you’d plucked from his extensive collection, most of which appeared to have been swiped from the library during his time at Hogwarts. You were sure the book was interesting enough but you could barely focus on it, you’d been waiting for Remus in his bedroom for at least a few hours whilst he was downstairs in his office finishing up grading assignments from his 4th years. 
But it was getting late, and you wanted Remmy. Not allowing yourself to talk yourself out of what you were about to do you pushed your body off the plush mattress, not bothering to straighten out the bedding, if things went your way it’d be in vain.
You took a double take as you passed the floor length mirror. Examining your appearance you noticed your hair was mussed from lounging about his bed trying to find a comfortable reading position. Your uniform shirt was rolled up to your elbows with the top couple of buttons undone to reveal a healthy amount of cleavage accompanied by a glimpse of the white lace of your bra. Your skirt had ridden up dangerously high, the white material of your panties peeking out from the hem of the pretty much useless piece of clothing. You’d already abandoned your thigh highs, leaving your legs enticingly bare. A smirk graced your face as you pulled your skirt up even higher before continuing out the door, down the spiral staircase to your boyfriend’s office.
“Remus?” You rapped your knuckles against the heavy oak of the door.
You were met by the deep, honey like voice of your boyfriend, “Come in.”
Pushing the door open you took in the visual of Remus hunched over at his desk, the sleeves of his button up rolled similarly to yours as he ran a calloused hand through his hair. His desk covered in papers, his hand fiddling with his quill as his lips moved silently as he read. He hadn’t realized who was at his door until he lifted his head, scratching one final note onto the paper.
“Puppy?” He quirked an eyebrow, “I thought you were upstairs, are you going back to your dorm already? M’almost done I promise, just a couple left.”
“Not going back, just wanted to see you. Been waiting too long.”
He motioned you over with a crook of his finger, pushing his chair out from the desk, patting his thigh for you to sit on, “There you go Puppy, get comfortable.” His hands found their place on your waist, helping you settle on his thigh, allowing them to wander up and down your sides, squeezing your waist and hips. “Was my Puppy getting impatient, waiting for me upstairs?”
You nodded in response, your breath hitching as his fingers found their way to the waistband of your skirt, “Are these not fitting you anymore Poppet? Do we need to get you new ones?”
“No Sir,” You mewled, shivering as one hand left your waist band, instead finding their way to the hem of the skirt, now resting on the uppermost part of your thighs.
Remus let out a disagreeing hum, resting his chin on your shoulder, looking over your shoulder to watch his fingers play with the material of your skirt. “You sure Puppy? Because I don’t think so, it's not covering anything, anyone could take a look at your pretty little arse in one of these.” He punctuated his remark by bringing his hand down against your thigh, with no skirt to soften the blow you tensed at the impact before he began massaging the sensitive area with the palm of his hand. 
“Just came from upstairs Sir, no one saw me,” You reasoned in a pathetic whine causing him to grip your jaw in his hands. 
“Did I ask for excuses Bunny?” He spat, turning your visage to face him, his usually bright, sparkling irises now dark, drowned in lust. You whined out, trying and failing to shake your head in his tight grip. “Can’t even answer me? Come on I know you can be a good girl for me, now did I ask for excuses?”
You gulped, “No.”
He tsked, “No who?”
“No Sir,” You corrected yourself, feeling your panties begin to flood at his mocking behavior. 
Satisfied, he let go of your face, taking your hand in his so that your palms were pressed together highlighting the length of his fingers as they dwarfed yours. “Good girl, now was that so hard.”
“No, Sir,” You responded obediently.
His lack of response made you nervous, knowing he was plotting something probably devious. You knew you were right when you felt his lips on your neck, planting sloppy, open mouthed kisses on the delicate flesh that resided there. Your attempts to suppress your whimpers were in vain as he sunk his teeth into the side of your neck, leaving purple marks in his wake.
“Such pretty noises,” He murmured and from the sound of his voice you could tell he his lips were pulled into a gentle smile. Your breath hitched as his hands found their way to your thighs, gripping them tightly as he planted a kiss on one of the blossoming bruises on your neck. “Such pretty noises from such a pretty slut.”
You threw your head back onto his shoulder as small waves of pleasure rippled through your body, reveling in the feeling of his hands on your body.
“Alright pup, let’s get up okay?” It took you a second to truly digest his words resulting in him leaving a gentle, but firm tap against your hip to which you scrambled up to obey him, turning so that you were facing him where he was lounging in his chair. You couldn’t help but shift from foot to foot as his eyes roamed your body, taking in each detail of your appearance, grinning like an idiot when he went to the hem of your skirt, which really was useless now, completely bunched up at your waist.
“Can you take your shirt off for me?” He asked in a cloying tone of voice, almost as one would speak to a child when asking them to perform a difficult task.
Enthusiastically nodding your head you started on the button resting right between your cleavage, the work you made in your efforts was miniscule as it took more than a minute for you to undo the top button with your shaky hands and already cloudy mind not assisting in your efforts.
You felt yourself get increasingly frustrated as you failed to get a solid grip on the next button, the plastic evading your struggling fingertips. “You having trouble there bunny?” Remus’ deep baritone sounded from his chair, you lifted your face from staring intently at your shirt to Remus’, his amusement at your being unable to perform such a simple task evident on his face. 
“S’not my fault,” You complained, “Buttons are just so fuckin slippery!” You were exasperated, this shouldn’t be taking you this long.
“What was that?” All signs of previous amusement vanished from his voice, nearly taking you out at the knees as your soft, pleading eyes met his. He was fuming and it wasn’t until he spoke next that you realized why. “Did I say you could fucking swear you slut?” His voice was cold as his posture straightened itself out.
“No,” He said, not giving you the opportunity to respond for yourself, “I didn’t. I expected you to be my good little girl, didn’t think that was unreasonable, usually so obedient for me.”
“M’sorry,” You pleaded, your hands continuing to struggle with the small buttons, “Didn’t mean to break the rules Sir, just frustrated.”
“Did I say you could talk at all?” He spat, “No, I didn’t now stop breaking the rules, don’t want you to apologize, just want you to be good for me. Now come over here and let me help you with your shirt, fucking pathetic aren’t you?”
Knowing the question was rhetorical you didn’t bother responding, instead just taking the invitation to inch yourself towards Remus until you were standing between his open legs, your fingers still shaking, not yet having abandoned the buttons you’d failed to undo.
“Your hands are so small,” Remus mused, lifting one of his to pry yours away from the material of your shirt, “How do you even get things done with these little things, oh right,” He tightened his grip on you, “You don’t. Need me to take care of everything for you, can’t even take off your shirt. S’that right baby?”
“Yes Sir,” You murmured.
“Let’s get this off of you,” It took him half the time to undo the rest of the buttons and get the shirt off you that it took you to undo one button. Remus’ pants got considerably tighter taking in your appearance, your breasts clad in his favorite color on you. 
“I’d ask you to take off your skirt too but you need my help with that too don’t you puppy?”
You were quick to nod, desperately wanting to be naked as soon as possible knowing that the sooner Remus had access to your cunt the sooner you’d be feeling good. 
Opposite to the civil, careful approach he took in ridding you of your shirt, Remus quite literally tore your skirt from your waist, leaving your skin stinging at the aggression of his act. A blush creeped up your neck as your cunt pulsed at his action, watching him inspect the ruined material.
“How can you even wear something this small? It's so small, so short. What does it even cover? I wouldn’t even fit one of my thighs.” Ironically he took the time to carefully fold the skirt and set it on his desk before pulling you even closer to his body by your waist as if you weighed nothing. He splayed his hand out against your lower stomach, frowning as he watched the skin of your belly disappear underneath it. 
“So much prettier when I can see my cock inside of it, it's practically half your size puppy.” 
“Want your cock Sir, please give me your cock,” You pleaded shamelessly, gripping at his forearms.
“Beg,” He ordered simply and unwaveringly.
Not missing a beat you did exactly as he asked, and you begged, “Please Sir, please give me your cock, I need your cock. Feel so empty without it. Please Sir, make me feel good. I’ve been a good girl I promise.”
“You wouldn’t lie to me would you bunny?”
“No Sir, I would never lie to you.”
“Good,” He nodded approvingly before swiftly pulling you down so that you were on your knees before him, “You look so pretty on your knees, so easy to get you there for me, so obedient,” He murmured affectionately brushing a finger delicately across your cheekbone which already felt warm erupted into flame at his touch.
Wordlessly he started on undoing his belt, the distinct clink of the metal sending shockwaves through your body, your mouth began watering as he undid his zipper, pulling both his trousers and boxers down slowly, allowing his hardening cock to spring out against his stomach. 
You began to reach for his cock but quickly stopped yourself, looking up at him, blinking owlishly, “Sir, may I touch your cock?”
“Go ahead Puppy.”
As soon as he granted you permission you were on your calves, kneeling forward to take his cock in your hand which barely wrapped all the way around it, your fingertips only brushing each other as you pumped your hand up and down on his member. 
“Maybe your hands are good for something,” Remus growled, “So tiny but they can still pump cock can’t they?” His harsh words were contrasted by his delicate touch as he brushed hair from your perspiring forehead. Then threading his long, slender fingers through your hair they anchored themselves at the back of your head, using his leverage he tilted your head upwards to make eye contact. “You gonna wrap those pretty lips around my cock Princess? Make me feel good?”
Your answer came as you leaned forward, his hand not even needing to guide you into motion. You peaked just the tip of your tongue out between your teeth to kitten lick the head of his cock, lapping over the slit feeling the grip on the back of your head tighten.
“Don’t tease me Puppy,” He warned lowly.
Taking his threat at face value you licked a broad stripe up the underside of his cock, tracing a distinct vein that thrummed under your oral muscle. Breathing in deeply you sucked the tip of his cock in between your lips, looking up at him you saw his eyes clenched closed as he tried to refrain from bucking his hips up into your mouth. 
Working the entirety of his cock into your mouth you gagged as he hit the back of your throat, seeing that you were only half way down his now completely engorged member you willed your gag reflex to not get in the way of your mission as you forced him further down your throat. Feeling a few tears run down your face you wrapped your hands around the few inches that you couldn’t quite fit, working them up and down the sensitive, exposed skin.
“Such a good puppy,” He praised, “Taking my cock so far down your throat, can see it bulging in your throat. See,” He reached out, tracing his outline down your neck, “Right there, such a good little thing taking me in your mouth.”
As you bobbed your head up and down on his cock, hollowing your cheeks Remus let out a pornographic moan, god you loved when he was vocal. The sounds of his groans and grunts spurred you on, daring you to take him deeper into your mouth until your nose was finally nestled in his happy trail, brushing against his pubic bone, saliva making a mess of your lower face.
“Gonna cum Puppy, gonna cum down your throat, and you’re gonna swallow it all up for me like a good girl.”
He was right, he was about to cum and you could feel his balls starting to tighten, wanting to get him there you moaned around his cock which was still resting deep in your throat, his movements chafing your vocal cords. 
The vibrations of your moan sent Remus over the edge, causing him to buck uncontrollably into your mouth, triggering the gag reflex you’d been able to keep dormant up until then. As he came he let out a string of curses, allowing his head to tip backwards and rest languidly against the back of his chair.
You kept his cock in your mouth, swallowing each strand of cum he shot down your throat until he removed himself from you and letting his dick hang lazily in between his legs as he leaned down, melding his lips with yours.
“Did I make you feel good Sir, did I satisfy you?” 
He let out a dry laugh, nodding his head slowly as he already began to recover from his orgasm. “Yes, puppy, made me feel really good.” To your bewilderment he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head before turning his chair back towards his desk, leaving you, mouth agape, trying to figure out what to say. He wasn’t really going to leave you like this, was he?
You were too confused to notice the subtle smirk pulling at his lips, he knew exactly what he was doing. He really did want to make you feel good, you’d made him feel so amazing just moments earlier and he wanted to reward you for that. But he was going to make you ask, like the good girl he knew you were.
“Yes, bunny?” He lilted, picking up his quill and dipping it into his pot of ink.
“I-I thought you were going to make me feel good Sir?” You asked, rubbing your thighs together, desperate for release.
“Is that how we ask, bunny?”
“No, Sir, I’m sorry. Please make me feel good,” You corrected yourself.
“That’s better,” He murmured approvingly, pushing his chair back out from his desk where he abandoned his quill, smearing ink on a random paper.
With a flick of his wrist you were getting up off your knees, standing submissively before him, you could now feel your slick on the inside of your thighs.
“Over here Poppet, on my thigh.” He helped you straddle his bare thigh, causing you to gasp at the mere sensation of him between your legs.
“You wanna cum? Then you can cum on my thigh while I finish up these papers, then when I’m done, if you’ve been a good girl I’ll fuck your little pussy.”
“O-okay Sir,” You nodded, beginning to thrust yourself against his thigh, the ridges rubbing deliciously against your soaked clit. It practically killed you as he went back to his work, the sound of his quill scratching against parchment nothing compared to the sound of his grunts as he destroyed your cunt. 
Remembering what was promised to you if you were a good girl and got yourself off on his thigh, you got back to work. Dragging your clit up and down his leg, you tortured yourself, not letting you go as fast as you desperately wanted to, knowing you’d get teased for being so needy and desperate. 
Throwing your arms around his neck you picked up your pace and feeling pleasure boil in the pit of your belly you tried to suppress a moan, knowing that good girls wouldn’t distract their Sirs while they tried to do work while at the same time letting their sluts get off. But despite your best efforts a soft moan escaped your red, swollen lips. 
“Keep quiet slut,” Remus scolded, the sound of quill to parchment not even pausing as he spoke to you, “Or you won’t get your reward.”
It was fate that you managed to remain quiet as you more closely approached your orgasm, you were so close the pleasure boiling in your stomach had you twitching as you shamelessly thrusted into Remus’ thigh, giving up on any pretenses of self control. You reached down to rub at your clit, desperate to tip over the edge of pleasure you were currently tip-toeing, but even while multitasking Remus was still the most observant person you’d ever met. Catching your hand before it ever made its way to your clit he squeezed it harshly.
“You know better than to touch what’s mine without asking Princess, come on slut, get yourself off on my thigh. You’re close, don’t even try to deny it.”
There was no correcting him as your climax washed over you at his command, sinking your teeth into his still clothed shoulder to muffle your scream as waves of pleasure crested through you, leaving you a shaking mess as cunt pulsed around nothing, still painfully empty.
You sighed, throwing your head onto Remus’ shoulder as he finally dropped his quill again and rested his hand on your back, rubbing it soothingly until coming to the clasp of your bra, expertly undoing it with one hand while the other anchored itself in your hair, pulling your head back to look you in the eyes.
“Aw, puppy don’t tell me you’re too fucked out already? Haven’t even given you my cock yet.”
“No, no Sir, m’not done, I can take more, I need more, please.” You begged unabashedly. 
That was all Remus needed before hooking his hands underneath your thighs and lifting you up into his arms. Shifting your weight to one arm he used the other to swipe the contents of his desk onto the floor, paying the sound of shattering glass no mind as he dropped you onto the desk. Your clothed bum hitting the unforgiving wood.
“Look at you,” Remus murmured, leaning back to take in your appearance, bare tits on display for him, legs clenched together hiding your closed pussy from his view. Sliding his hands between your closed legs he forced them apart, you putting up no resistance making it an easy feat for the werewolf. 
A simper graced his lips, now being able to take in the view of your clit, partially visible through the soaked material of your white panties. 
“So wet,” He mocked, reaching out a single finger to gently massage your clit, “So wet and I haven’t even touched you. How pathetic.”
Without warning, just as he did with your skirt, he tore your panties off your body, slightly less impressive now that you’d already seen him do it with much more substantial fabric, but still enough to send another gush of wetness to your cunt.
Lifting your bum up from the desk you allowed him to slip the waste of fabric out from beneath you. 
“You want me to fuck your cunt now puppy? You want my cock in you?” He taunted, pumping his hand up and down his cock, appraising your body, smiling as he took in his favorite sight in the world.
“Yes please Sir, need your cock, feel so empty without.”
“Course you do,” Quicker than you could comprehend what was happening Remus had abandoned his cock and instead had flipped you around so that your waist up pressed against the worn wood of the desk. You were forced to support yourself on your forearms as your legs dangled uselessly in the air, toes barely grazing the floor of his office. A chuckle in Remus’ low baritone sounded through the room, “So small your feet can’t even reach the floor, how adorable,” He accentuated his point with a slap to your arse, causing you to jolt forward.
“Sir,” You whined, “Please, I need you.”
“You think this little cunt can take my cock? So small, I might just break it.” He mused, pushing his index finger into you, smiling when your walls clenched around him. 
“No Sir, I promise I can take it. I’ve taken it before.”
“That you have Poppet,” He agreed, positioning himself behind you, you gasped, feeling the head of his cock trace your clit before he pushed the entirety of his length into your quivering hole, watching as you greedily sucked in all 9 inches of him.
“Fuck!” You swore, Remus’ rule slipping your mind as you lost yourself in pleasure.
“Don’t be a naughty whore (Y/N),” He warned, “Told you not to swear, didn’t I?” He questioned as he began to thrust into you unforgivingly, gripping your hips to stabilize you on the desk as without it you were uselessly sliding against the desk.
“I’m sorry!” You screamed as pleasure began to overwhelm you, with so little break between your last orgasm and the current ministrations on your pussy you were a whimpering mess.
“You should be,” He growled, leaning over you, bracing himself on his forearms to whisper in your year, “M’so good to you, least you could do is follow my rules. They’re not that strict.”
“They’re not!” You agreed as the new position allowed him to hit a new place inside you, intensifying your pleasure tenfold, if that was even possible at this point.
Gripping your hips and lifting them up slightly Remus increased his bruising pace, the combined sensations of his cock inside of you, his balls slapping against your clit, and you upper body rubbing against the desk had your eyes rolling back in your head as the pleasure began to overwhelm you.
At this point you were being fucked so thoroughly and ruthlessly that your feet weren’t even grazing the floor anymore, instead they were limp, hitting against the front of Remus’ desk as he supported your weight in his hands.
Remus was able to stretch you out like no one ever had before, to the point where pleasure bordered pain and the line between the two blurred to the point where you weren’t even sure if you knew what day of the week it was.
“What a little slut, if anyone came in right now they’d see you getting fucked by your professor,” You moaned at Remus’ filthy words which went directly to your cunt. “You’d like that though, my little exhibitionist.” Another smack to your bum was delivered as Remus lifted your lips even further into the air to reach new depths inside you. “Always so hungry for my cock aren’t you? Can’t go a single day without me filling this cunt of yours, can you?”
Your response was swallowed by a moan as Remus sped up his thrusts as his cock started to twitch inside you, causing you to clench your pussy around him.
“I’m close Sir, may I cum?” You pleaded, your voice shaking with the effort it was taking you to keep your orgasm at bay. 
“No,” He commanded through gritted teeth, “You’re not gonna cum until I say you can.”
“Ye-es, Sir.”
Remus growled as his thrusts stuttered, cumming inside you, rope after rope of thick cum painting your walls in his release. He stayed there inside you, leaning over you, your back pressed to his chest until he caught his breath. 
Pulling out of you he smiled, watching his cum drip from your cunt, “So pretty,” he murmured pushing a finger inside you and with it his release. 
“S-Sir?” You stuttered, not daring to move from your position until he said you could.
“Yes Puppy?”
“I didn’t cum.”
“You think I didn’t notice that? I’m not daft,” He shoved two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out viciously before completely pulling them out of your hole causing a pathetic whimper to escape your lips at the empty feeling that settled in the pit of your stomach where your pleasure still simmered.
“Feel so empty without something in there don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.” 
“Get yourself up to my bedroom and when I get up there after I finish these last few papers I’ll make you cum over and over again Puppy.” With a light swat to your bum he zipped himself back into his pants but you were too desperate to move. “Now, before I change my mind.”
That got you up off his desk, darting up the stairs to his room where you laid dutifully on his bed, waiting for his arrival.
tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts
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bmo-galaxy · 3 years ago
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Okay but what if they kissed?
But just imagine that Naruto and Sasuke kiss at the end. An honest to god, square on the lips, absolutely intentional kiss. A kiss they choose, a kiss on purpose, a kiss that isn't comic relief or shock value. A kiss to explain what drove Naruto forward all these years. The kind of kiss that shows that even now, even after it all, they choose each other and came back to each other and never, ever forgot. A kiss that’s a promise and a fresh start. 
Just imagine, if you will, for a moment that Sasuke tells him to shut up and Naruto peels himself from the rock, turning with fire in those blue eyes. The same way they burn before a fight, prepared and focused. Those blue eyes have always been Sasuke’s undoing, reflecting only the earnest truth. Every one of Naruto’s emotions is broadcast in those vast oceans. A strong, steady hand shoots out to fist in Sasuke’s shirt and raven is sure he's about to get headbutted again. Naruto wretches him up and leans real close and Sasuke is waiting for the crack and the pain. A pain that never comes.
The kiss isn't soft or sweet or sentimental. Its all sharp edges and teeth and desperation. A peak into Naruto’s soul, a glimpse at his pain, a taste of his anger. Just as quickly as it starts, the kiss is over. Naruto pulls away with a gasp, sapphire eyes fluttering open. All the fierceness and fury deflates from Naruto and the blonde’s shoulders sag. His fist is still gripping Sasuke’s shirt, but it loosens until it sits flat against the Uchiha’s chest, right over his heart. Eyes falling closed, Naruto basks in the steady beat against his palm. You’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive and you’re here.
"You have no idea how long I've waited to do that," Naruto admits this in a husky whisper before he can stop himself. Disbelief colors his tone and the blonde shakes his head like he can't believe this is happening. “This is like a dream,” he continues, still quiet and heartfelt. A part of the blonde is embarrassed and wishes he would shut up, but Naruto is just too tired. Mind, body, soul; every bit of him is exhausted, but more than anything, Naruto is weak with relief. Leaving his tongue loose and his inhibitions lowered. 
Sasuke struggles for words, struggles to breathe, struggles to understand. Where was the strike, the anger, the hatred for everything Sasuke has done? Why does Naruto look so fucking happy? Bloodied, mangled, black and blue and beaten. Sasuke will never apologize for his actions, standing by hatred for the Leaf and his dedication to his late brother. Naruto, though... 
Naruto, who followed him to the ends of the earth. Naruto, who never gave up on him, even when everyone around him did. Naruto, who stood up to him over and over, proudly proclaiming to be his friend every single time. Naruto, who was prepared to lose his dream, his home, his life; and was prepared to do so smiling, just happy to have a future with Sasuke. 
Why, Naruto? Sasuke implores silently, watching happy tears streak down the blonde’s cheeks. Why, why, why, why--
"Why?" Is all that Sasuke can think and all he can get past his lips. The one great mystery: why would someone like Naruto, now surrounded by love and praise, chase after Sasuke so relentlessly, the one person determined to cut their ties entirely? Naruto looks up at him with sparkling, vast blue eyes that don't hide anything. A clear, cloudless sky. Every corner of Naruto is laid bare in front of Sasuke, who resists the urge to turn away. Those damn blue eyes have always been Sasuke’s undoing, the one thing consistently able to shakes Sasuke’s resolve and fill him with yearning. 
"Don't make me repeat myself, you know why," Naruto chuckles, bashful and blushing now. He scratches his cheek and glances away. "I figure that made it pretty obvious."
Sasuke almost smiles, almost relents his intense stare, because he does know. Far as he tried to run from the truth, he does know why Naruto did all of that. Just like he knows why he was never truly able to sever their connection. Sasuke needs to hear it though, needs to hear the truth he's known for years and years. Why would Naruto do any of it other than-- than-- than--
"Why, Naruto?" And the blonde can tell that the raven is asking about much more than the kiss. Sasuke is asking about everything and Naruto only has one answer for that question. Naruto’s flush darkens, the anticipation and passion and intensity in Sasuke’s gaze is setting the blonde on fire. A wild, uncontainable hope flares in the fox’s chest, seeing all of his own desires reflected in Sasuke’s eyes. 
And Naruto would swallow thickly and say the three words he's always held in his heart, always believed in, always protected against anything.
"I love you," Naruto whispers and Sasuke’s heart stops, time stops, everything stops. There’s only Naruto and his burning sapphire eyes. "I love you, Sasuke. That’s why. That’s-- That’s always been why."
It’s the answer Sasuke expects and knows is coming but somehow still knocks the breath from the raven. There it is, the undeniable truth neither had ever uttered out loud. The truth Sasuke hid from. The truth Naruto never let disappear. Against all odds and by some miracle, Naruto loves him. 
Naruto loves me, Naruto loves me, Naruto loves me.
"I love you," Sasuke says like a prayer, whispered on the edge of his breath. Uttering the confession makes him feel faintly lightheaded and a breathless chuckle slips from his lips. "I'm sorry it took so long."
Naruto laughs, high and clear and beautiful. A pure sound that kisses Sasuke’s ears and soothes his soul. For a second, in this moment, everything feels alright. Naruto punches his shoulder gently, a fond and affection gesture that’s nothing like the blows they traded an hour ago. 
“I really must have rocked your shit for you to be apologizing to me,” the orange ninja teases, smiling brightly. Sasuke rolls his eyes at the comment, shaking his head slowly. Everything is different but nothing has changed. This is still comfortable, familiar, soothing. As if no time has passed at all. 
“I’ll make one exception, don’t get used to it,” he needles back. Naruto copies his eyeroll and fights down a giggle. There’s a beat of silence, a moment to bask in the glow. Everything they need is here and even though wounds ache, neither is rushing to locate their comrades. They’ll find us eventually, they both think silently, content to enjoy their moment alone. Naruto scoots a little nearer and Sasuke leans a little closer. One shaking, hesitant arm reaches out to wrap around Sasuke’s waist. The raven haired nin stills initially, survival instinct telling him to run run run before he gets hurt, or overtaken, or killed.
Naruto doesn't hurt him though. Despite everything, in spite of everything, Naruto never hurts Sasuke. Naruto is safe, gentle warmth. Even his heaviest blows somehow felt like a fond caress. Naruto is just good, plain and simple. So, the raven relaxes into the embrace and wraps his arm around Naruto too. The embrace is awkward and sticky, both are covered in grime and sweat and blood, but they don't care. Trembling fingers cling desperately. Tear streaked faces press into necks and shoulders. Their last and first embrace, a new dawn breaking over them. Naruto’s mouth finds Sasuke’s ear and the blonde’s voice warms and deepens with all of his love and gratitude and relief.
"Welcome home, Sasuke."
A sob rises, rises, rises in Sasuke’s chest but he swallows hard to keep it down. It’s easy to remember the last person to say those words to him, easy to imagine his mother in the kitchen as he leaves for school. Everything has been darkness from that day, broken up by brief, startling moments of light. Moments with Naruto, working as a three man team and growing together. The dawn has broken and the warmth of Naruto’s sun is a beacon in the shadows, a breath of hope and fresh air after a long winter underground. 
"I'm home," Sasuke replies because it’s true. Naruto is home. Not his first one, but certainly his last. 
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enhalovebot · 4 years ago
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moonlight ੈ☪⋆。
➻ yang jungwon x reader (gender neutral)
➻ fluff
➸ ˗ˏ ➶ [☁️]. ✧ ˚
⤷ over the course of your relationship, you never thought you’d love the nicknames that came with it. no matter how cheesy they can get.
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Never would you have thought that you’d end up with Jungwon. The boy was so reserved and quiet when you first met him that you didn’t notice just how cheeky and playful he could be. At first, it wasn’t noticeable at all, but after some time, it gradually became very apparent. It started with something simple.
Bubs. 
It was a lazy afternoon, and the rest of the boys were out, claiming you both deserved some quality time. Either that was the reason, or maybe Jungwon might have shoved all of them out the door. We will never know. But you’re just happy to spend time with your boyfriend.  
“Hey, bubs? Can I lie down there?” Jungwon pointed at your lap. He didn’t notice the nickname. It just slipped out. But judging by your reaction, he may use it a couple of times until you're ready to blow up from the heat flowing in your cheeks. 
“Yeah, s-sure.” You adjusted from your previous position, allowing him to lie his head on your lap. The moment his soft hair made contact with your pajamas, you knew you were doomed. Jungwon made himself comfortable on your pajama-clad thighs, enjoying the feeling of being loved as he is. 
“We should do this more often, bubs.” There it was again. It was a simple nickname, yet it brings so many emotions you can’t control. “I agree,” you replied as you carded your fingers through his soft hair.
Babe. 
It has been a while since you’ve seen Jungwon since both of you have different schedules, and finding time together is starting to get a little bit difficult. And now, for the first time in months, you finally found the time to visit the boys. 
“y/n’s here! Make way losers!” Ni-ki excitedly pushed the door open to let you inside. Sunoo pulled you in by the arms in an attempt to hug you but was quickly interrupted by Jungwon, who whisked you away from the other boy’s arms. And the next thing you knew was the smell of familiar cologne. 
His cologne. 
“That’s not fair. You always hog y/n all to yourself when they visit.” Jake called Jungwon out from the couch, while the others only smirked in return. It was obvious the boy missed you. He missed you so much that he didn’t mind the countless teases thrown at him. 
Whatever, Jungwon thought. He’ll deal with them later. 
“I missed you so much, babe.”
There folks, is an arrow straight to the heart.
Darling.
You stood on the pavement waiting for Jungwon to meet you at the bus stop. He initially planned out a date, but it seems like he’s running late. Tirelessly, you sat down on the metal seats, moving your feet back and forth. Sounds of vehicles passing by kept you occupied as you waited for him. 
You were expecting to wait for another ten minutes for Jungwon. However, sounds of aggressive panting came your way, followed by frantic footsteps. You glanced up to search for the source of the noise, and lo and behold, there he was. His hair was a mess, strands all over the place. His navy blue sweatshirt was ruffled and disheveled. And his shoelaces came loose by his furious running. And to top it all of, his flushed face matched his flustered state.
“I’m here, present.” Jungwon bent down, putting his hands on his knees, taking in massive inhales as he caught his breath. 
“What happened to you?” You patted his back. 
“Just took care of something.The guys were chasing me, kept asking me where I was going on a Saturday.” Jungwon met eyes with you, lifting his hand to caress your cheek.
“Glad to see you made it out alive.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world, darling.” He slyly wrapped his strong arms around your waist as he emphasized the word ‘this.’ “Let’s get going, yeah?”
Cheeks. 
“Hey, y/n?” Jungwon’s booming voice resonated from your doorway, feet planted on the floor in a stiff stance. You hummed, not looking up from your laptop. “Hmm?”
“Can you do the thing?” Jungwon drags his feet on the ground, shoulders slumped. “Do what?” Your eyes connected with his. There was a pregnant pause in the air as he carefully chose his following words.
Jungwon fiddled with his shirt, wringing the material in nervousness. He didn’t know what’s happening to him. His heart was going crazy. “You know..” He shifts from his weight on his heel. “Can you do the thing?”
Your eyebrows arched in confusion before it finally clicked.
Oh. The thing. 
A smile slowly formed on your face as you stared at Jungwon, who was now sitting on your bed.  He leaned in, eyes sparkling in admiration. “There it is. There’s the thing.”
“You feel better now?” You raised a hand to brush away the strands from his eyes.
“Yeah. Thank you, cheeks.” He suddenly stood up, racing out the door. But he made sure to give your cheek an affectionate squish before exiting the room.
Honey. 
“Jungwon, have you seen my blan-” You paused, cutting yourself off as you saw Jungwon wrapped up in your favorite blanket on your bed. “Nevermind, I found it.”
Jungwon rolled on his side to face you with his face squished on the mattress. He looked adorable. “Sorry. It’s so soft I couldn’t help myself.” He paused and looked up at you in realization. Jungwon slowly raises the blanket, “Wanna share?” 
A chuckle left your lips, shaking your head at his cheekiness. Jungwon happily invited you in his warm embrace once you started getting comfortable in his arms. “This is nice,” you yawned. 
“Right? I could get used to this.” Jungwon hugged you even tighter.
Your breathing evened out as time passed by, and this didn’t go unnoticed by Jungwon. “Sleep well, honey.”
Buttercup.
You were laid down in the middle of the living room, bored out of your mind. “This is so boring.” You said, dragging out your words. 
Jungwon, who was sitting down on the sofa, judged you in your current state, his eyes full of judgment as he looked you up and down. He didn’t mean to do it, he just loves seeing you react with just his eyes. 
“Stop looking at me like that.” You snapped at him.
“Like what?” He grabbed the remote, switching to different channels as he did so, searching for something good to watch. Jungwon doesn’t meet your eyes, though he feels like burning from your gaze.
“Look at me, Won,” you sat up, arms folded over your chest. 
Jungwon mindlessly allowed his eyes to meet yours. “What?”
“See? Stop looking at me like that.” You pointed out the way his eyes stared at you with so much judgment.   
Jungwon laughed upon seeing how you reacted to his staring. “You’re cute, buttercup.”
Angel. 
Sounds of sheets shuffling emitted from your phone speakers, “Why aren’t you asleep yet, angel?” Jungwon placed his phone on his bedside to see your face better. 
You released an exasperated sigh, “I got a lot of work to do.”
“You can continue doing it tomorrow. You need your rest.” Jungwon insisted on the other side of the screen. 
“But I can finish it tonight if I stay up a little longer,” you took a glance at your screen to see, Jungwon already looking at you with a stern gaze. 
“Go to sleep, angel. It’s past two am already.” He reasoned with you once more. 
You bit your lip as you contemplated the consequences. If you get to sleep now, then maybe you’ll have more time to do your task. Then, on the other hand, if you don’t go to sleep now, you’ll have to face headaches the next morning. And for sure, you also have to face the never-ending speech Jungwon prepared for you.
“Fine, I’ll go to sleep.” You settled your things away, cleaning your desk of the mess you created. 
“Goodnight, angel.”
“Goodnight, Won.”
Love.
“Don’t come near me!”
“Love, you’re being a dramatic mess right now. It's just a cold.” Jungwon placed his hands on his hips as he stared you down from six feet away.
“You’re gonna get sick if you come any closer.” You dramatically swatted your arms in the air. 
Jungwon howled in laughter, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. He loves you so much, honestly. 
“Nothing will happen to me, love. Put some faith in me.” Jungwon ignored your protests as he brought himself closer to you, not stopping until he was face to face with you. 
Heat came rushing to your cheeks when you noticed him come closer to you. So, you lifted the sheet up to your face, hiding from the boy in front of you. 
A teasing chuckle slipped from his lips. Jungwon slightly tilted his head to the side. “Hm? Why are you hiding from me?” His hand came up to gently tug the soft material off from your face. 
You mustered a weak reply to save yourself from embarrassment. “No... I’m sick.” Your voice muffled under the blanket.
“Don’t get all shy with me now.” Jungwon grinned at your actions. All he got in reply was a slight nudge, indicating you said ‘no.’
Feeling his lips on yours left you speechless because it wasn’t really a kiss. But it had the same impact. The things Jungwon does to you.
Again, he shakes his head while giggling like a fool. Jungwon tipped his forehead on yours, pressing a soft kiss on your lips, which was covered by the sheet. “Get better soon, love.”
Starlight.
Music blared from the studio, booming like there was no tomorrow. Noises of shoes squeaking against the floorboard kept you going. But mostly, it was because of the boy dancing in the middle of the room. He had a smile painted on his lips, his eyes full of love, and his hands were reaching out to you.
“Come dance with me!” Jungwon ran to you, his hands holding yours as he spun you around. 
You laughed at his antics. There was no other place you'd want to be. Being here with him was enough. Maybe more than enough. The both of you continued jumping around the room, not counting it as dancing anymore.
The song soon goes somewhat quiet, building up to the beat drop. Jungwon drew closer to you, preparing for the right time for the bass to drop. You stared back at him, confused as to why he also went quiet.
“Baby, you’re my starlight,” he perfectly timed his actions to the beat. And as the beat drops, Jungwon tugs you closer, giving you a light peck on the nose. Then, the sudden urge to get him flustered washed over you. “I think you missed,” you pointed to your lips.
Jungwon chuckles at this, but nonetheless, he still pulled you in for another kiss. This time on the lips.
Moonlight.
It was late. 
Like, really late. But that didn’t stop Jungwon from dragging you out to the night. “Isn’t this fun?” Jungwon spoke with a mouthful of noodles in his mouth, making his cheeks look even more adorable than it was before.
“Chew your food, love,” you patted the stains away from his cheeks. Jungwon’s heart almost leaps out of his chest from how beautiful you looked under the convenience store lights. Simple is a word he associated with you. He loves the simplicity looming around you, reminding him that he is human too.
Both of you were in some 24-hour convenience store, spending your extremely early morning together. “Want some?” You pushed a plate of sandwiches. Jungwon shook his head, instead, he picked up a napkin and proceeded to dab away at the stain you didn’t notice you had. 
“You got a little something…” Jungwon’s voice faded into a soft whisper as he concentrated on wiping away the mess on your chin.
“And... Done!” He threw the tissue, shooting it straight in the bin. You continued to stare at him while Jungwon went back to eating his meal. He didn’t notice you until he peered back at you from the corner of his eye.
“What?” Jungwon asked, unknowingly tilting his head a bit to the side. 
You shrugged, “Nothing.”
“What is it?” Jungwon scooted his chair closer to yours.
“I’m just glad I met you.” You couldn’t meet his eyes. So, you fixed your gaze on the table in front of you while you fidgeted with your long sleeves.
There was a profound silence.  
“I’m glad I met you too, moonlight.” 
You almost flinched at his voice, seeming that it was so quiet before he spoke up. But something felt new.
“Moonlight?” You questioned. 
Jungwon nodded, “You make me want to give you my heart, y/n.” 
“Well then, you’re my moonlight, too.” Your hand traced the dimples slowly revealing themselves as Jungwon smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world. 
They call me moonlight, too. Jungwon smiled at the thought. 
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thesunshinebunny · 4 years ago
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When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part V)
Series Master list
pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader
content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)
summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?
Chapter summary: Eren and reader meet face to face and are determined to put an end to the tension that has been building around them since Eren returned from Marley.
Word Count: 7.9k 
The light wind blew the few leaves that had fallen from the trees around me at the same time that it generated a slight comfort, as if the same wind was hugging me and holding me between its countenance. The branches moved to the beat of it sweet music and danced a slow tango around two figures ready to end the other. We were both facing each other, each positioned perfectly and vertically above the other's line of sight, only a few steps separated, perhaps two meters apart, but still the difference wasn’t an obstacle to inspect each other.
Eren standed stiffly on the muddy floor, a position that was becoming a habit lately every time he was about to confront someone, either with words or with blows. His shoes were dirty and torn, some small holes showed through the cloth. Strands of hair fell on his forehead and some were stuck to the skin due to the mud and earth that the footsteps threw into the air. His eyes...just as empty of any light and life that might exist.
His jaw was clenched as well as one of his fists, I didn't find any sign his hand was hurt or his palm was bleeding and dropping a few drops to the floor, so I assumed it wasn’t in his plans to transform here and now. But that didn’t mean that I could be calm.
As for me, surely Eren was looking at me the same way a wolf looks at a little sheep or a poor dwarf white rabbit, one of the most defenseless animals in the food chain. Apparently I was the meal and it was time for lunch. But I was very sure that Eren hadn’t limited himself to looking at me with that horrible analogy, he’d surely noticed my torn and bloody clothes, as well as dirty with mud and some other things that I wanted not to investigate or put my nose in them. He had probably also noticed the multiple scratches on the skin of my arms and on my face, wounds already dry and in the process of healing thanks to the sweat from adrenaline and the race through the forest made in a few minutes. He had probably noticed little strands sticking to the crook of my neck and cold sweat dripping down my spine.
I don't doubt he surely noticed the fire burning in my eyes, my gaze radiating determination, a determination to get out of this place as unscathed as possible and find a way to fix this whole damn situation. He would have noticed how my figure was a reflection of his, I wouldn’t move if he didn’t move, I wouldn’t stop squeezing a finger if I didn’t see he stopped squeezing his. It was like being on the other side of a mirror, copying each and every one of the other's movements.
"So ... wanna make the first move?" My breathing was ragged, however neutral my face might be. Inside I was afraid, I was always afraid, it was a normal feeling and sensation. I was already used to feeling this unconditional fear when going out into the world.
The wind blew around us again, it was like a sweet melody cradling my ears, it was like feeling a hand caressing my battered face, a caress that I hadn't felt for a long time. If the moment had been different, it would have taken me some time to close my eyes and enjoy the breeze. If I did that right now, I would end up badly beaten and dejected, perhaps dead as well.
The breeze was dancing for a few seconds and stopped short, as if the world and time itself had stopped, only the two of us were able to move and yet neither did. Everything around us was silent, not the chirping of a cricket or the footsteps of an animal could be heard. Neither did any footsteps or voices from the other Jaegeristas, completely ignoring their locations, while ignoring the whereabouts of my beloved horse. It was just me and Eren in this little airless bubble.
Seconds of silence and in an instant Eren stepped forward and instinctively I stepped back, letting my left foot hold much of my weight on this. I was leaning back with the possibility of running if necessary, but knowing Eren I would only run a couple of meters before having him on my back and holding me like we’re playing hide and seek. My hands were raised to my torso, palms facing the ground and in position to become fists or grab something, whatever was out of the trees to counter or defend myself.
It wasn’t a position that I wasn’t completely unfamiliar with, was like reliving the old days as cadets in training, each one trying to search for the opponent's strengths and weaknesses, evaluating the chances of attack and their effectiveness. It really was like self-defense practices, practices that Eren put so much effort and determination into. I used to watch him from afar when my partner ended up on the ground given the multiple blows to the stomach that I had so proudly learned from my father. I used to see his frustrated face when Annie managed to knock him down with a simple leg movement or when Reiner was too abrupt to the point of knocking him to the ground from his high height. And yet, no matter how many blows and humiliations the poor boy felt when practicing self-defense, he never stopped fighting and asking for more blows, as if violence and physical damage were his only form of training. Already in the first practices I knew he was completely crazy, that he had something bad in the head, but his determination and that sparkle in his eyes when he got angry at losing, in the same way that a small child gets angry when they don’t have what they wants, was what caught my attention the most.
I used to fight him repeatedly in these same practices, being positioned in the same places we are now, one of us with a flabby wooden knife, but capable of doing a lot of damage if we didn’t use it properly. I was already used to the agile movements that I could perform with a simple kitchen and hunting knife, living much of my lifetime in the middle of a small town lost in the woods. I was used to defending myself and attacking animals with little rational intelligence, which made them much more dangerous than a simple human. I was equally used to dodging punches, and punches, able to redirect them and hit the weakest points of my prey. But I wasn't used to the low blows this boy was capable of. I always had to cover my back because I didn't know when he was going to jump on me and throw me to the ground, like the first time I knocked him down with a blow to the chin and when I was about to change partners, he grabbed my back and neck to throw myself on the floor and make me eat dirt. I didn't know if even throwing him to the ground multiple times he would go against my leg and bend it, hitting my head not only against the floor but also against his shoulder. I didn't know when he would apply the same technique Annie had taught him weeks ago. Unarmed or with a damn wooden knife Eren was dangerous because he was willing to keep fighting, even if he was going to fight dirty, without rules or codes.
I have faced him multiple times throughout the three years of training and in each confrontation there was something new that surprised us both, be it his various angry movements or my simple stances and punches capable of stopping the fight in any way. And that same uncertainty was also reflected in the times we went out to fight with what, at that time, we thought were simple and common titans, unable to deduce the actions of the other, evading death many more times than we could count.
And all that uncertainty and determination on the battlefield started with simple training with the wooden knife. A wooden knife.
A knife.
I withdrew my hand from in front of me and with great care I directed it towards the back pocket of my pants, without stopping looking at Eren who had taken advantage while I wandered in my imagination to approach and settle half the distance that separated us. When my hand reached the pocket, I stuck my thumb and forefinger inside it, grasping a small doctor's knife which I apparently had unconsciously put away in the morning when I finished treating my last patient. I secured it tightly and kept my hand behind my back until Eren again took a big step towards me and, in a protective movement, I positioned the knife in attack mode, eye level, as if was a real fight knife.
"Well that's not very fair-"
With a clean flick of the wrist the small knife rested on my thumb and forefinger and I tossed it to the side, striking perfectly even on the bark of a tree. It had been nailed cleanly and the sound it generated on impact gave certainty that it would be difficult to get it out of that place. Eren never moved from where he was, he simply followed the movements of my hand and at the moment of impact he inspected the cut on the bark before turning his gaze to me.
“I am unarmed… without weapons, without my movement gear, just my bare hands. But it still wouldn't be a fair fight, would it?"
In the four years that we were officially in the legion, at no point had we taken a day to practice our close combat as we did before. You could say that our fighting days were over on the night of our graduation. Although those days were behind us, I was completely sure he had never stopped training, he would continue to launch those unpredictable movements at any moment, let alone his unnatural power.
"You have your titan powers and each hit that hits you will heal, instead I will continue to bleed and spend days with a black eye and broken bones, if that is the case"
I saw what his fists could do to someone like Armin and what they had done to my neck and nose, if this fight went on longer than it should or turned in a bad movement, my body was going to end much worse than it already was; I was even beginning to think that maybe Eren would go as far as turning into a titan and crushing me once and for all. I had to be careful and hoped luck was on my side to make it out alive a second time.
“Come on, let's finish it once and for all” In position and waiting for the first hit, this is how they taught us and this is how I would be mentally prepared from now on, until the moment of my death, even if it were in a few minutes.
He was the first to cut the distance between us, raising his fist to my face. His knuckles slammed into my arm, propelling it toward the contour of my face by the wave and force of the impact. His other fist tried to hit the pit of my stomach, but I could catch his movement and block him with my other arm, hitting him to no effect with the bone. I raised my left leg to hit him on the ribs, but like me, Eren was faster and dodged just in time, avoiding my foot and moved it to the side. As I touched the ground again, I raised my leg again and this time I managed to hit him on the hip, propelling him forward and hitting his body again, this time with my right knee on his face.
His body didn’t move from where he had fallen to the floor, sensing that my blow hadn’t been strong enough to unbalance him, but to mislead him for a second. His face was thrown back by the impact of my knee and I hit him again in the same way, this time right in the center of the face, right on the septum and the mouth. My hand lunged for his hair, grabbing his already disheveled manbun and pushing his head back, my other hand was about to hit right in the neck area, but before I could even put my fingertips on him, his fingers closed tightly on my wrist and twisted it outward, drawing an uncomfortable groan from my throat.
His other fist managed to make a hook towards my chin causing me to loose the grip on the manbun, my legs were unbalanced and I felt blood spurt into my mouth, and one of his feet rose high enough to hit me in the chest and pull me towards him. back and hitting the head squarely against the hard dirt floor. Eren wasted no time and took a short leap towards my figure and placed his hands on my neck for the third time that day. It was like reliving the restaurant scene, me on the floor and him finding a way to position himself on me and immobilize me.
"God, what about you and your choke kink?" With my throat so battered in such a short time, I could barely speak and what I managed to get out was nothing more than hoarse and breathy moans, as if my voice was breaking little by little.
Both of my hands went straight under his armpits holding them in the shape of a sword and digging the bony ends into his weak skin. His arms loosened, giving me the chance to elbow him on the back of his neck and push him away from my body. I put my hands on the ground and got back to my feet with my arms and legs now muddy and dirty, but what was my intention to put myself on guard ended up turning into a new face fall down to the floor, having one of his legs hooked on my knee and making any escape movement impossible. I hit him hard with my free leg on the knee that was hooking me, managing to displace it and perhaps break it on the spot given the creaking sound that echoed through the bark of the trees. With my leg released, I turned around and now that same leg was on his broken knee, applying pressure to the floor, and my other leg took a moment to impact right on his face. His body was now flat on the floor and I positioned myself on top of him without wasting time, pulling his arm back and hitting his ribs with the elbow of my free arm. One, two, three blows, until I felt an impulse bring my body back to the floor as well as a blow on my left cheekbone. I hadn't seen his fist come to my face when he lunged against my body to get me off.
His knee hit me in the pit of my stomach, curling into a fetal position and his fist slammed again into my cheekbone. I tried to scratch his arm the same way I did with his face hours ago, but I failed miserably, as if the pain of the flesh peeling off his skin didn't affect him at all. So I hit his knee with mine, moving him off my stomach, driving him to the ground, and back hitting him on the ribs. Eren lifted his body for a moment to avoid taking any more impacts and gave me enough time to place my legs under his chest and stretch them towards and send him flying against the tree behind him.
Now I could easily stand up, but the pain in my stomach made it difficult for me to breathe and to be able to stand firmly on the ground. I took quick strides towards his body and when my foot was about to hit his face, Eren wiped away a considerably thick branch from the ground and struck my face with the tip, impacting the leaves and small branches on my wounds and throwing me to the ground from the burning. I was in four against a tree, behind me I heard how the dry leaves crunched under Eren's feet and how he was getting up to jump on my back; But this time, I was faster and managed to turn around to hit my leg on his neck for a good time and throw him again towards a crooked tree on our side, hitting his neck against the bark and tearing the skin with friction. From where I was lying I could see blood coming out of his neck, it seems he had torn the jugular area and was bleeding. I could also see the pain on his face and how his body was getting rid of the tension that the fight had caused.
We were both gasping for air, at the moment neither of us could take it anymore and both bodies were asking for a limit, but I knew it was a matter of time before Eren fully recovered and a new fight would take place again. If there was a moment to act, this was perfect. I tried to get up, but my back didn’t give in to my directions and I was thrown back to the floor. My eyes were fixed on the tops of the trees, which let a few rays of the sun slip into our little forest bubble. The sight was almost angelic, if it weren't for the multiple blows that were burning like a bonfire. I saw how some leaves fell slightly accompanied by the wind which had blown again when our fight ended. I felt physical and mental relief as I listened as the smoke rose from Eren's skin, quickly healing his wounds, but still suffering from the bleeding in his neck. My vision began to blur, nothing that was in front of me was seen clearly and I was afraid I was about to faint.
Ahead of me I began to see a familiar sight, quite familiar indeed; the training days, Eren and me in our younger years. I saw us in one of our first confrontations, being completely dirty from the sandy earth but still standing on our two feet, our eyes like daggers about to be thrown at our opponent. Each one prepared to deliver what seemed like the last blow and define the confrontation before ending the day and heading off to the canteen for dinner, ready to define our fifth confrontation with hatred for the other in the veins. Eren, as not, was the first to approach and to be dodged by a young me and give him a poor punch in the face. He complained about the impact, backing off for the next instant to pounce on my shoulder and hook me on the knee to finally throw me sideways to the ground for the fourth time in that three-hour workout. I groaned in pain and grabbed onto my shoulder, injured and battered from so many blows. I stretched out on the floor, in the same way that presumably I was now and I stared at the orange sky, observing how little by little the sun was setting on the horizon and fine dark blue lines welcomed the night.
"Ha, how many times have I beat you today?" his voice and breathing were ragged but still I could tell the false vanity and self-centeredness in his words. He had hunched over his knees resting his tangled hands on them and brought his face closer to mine, covering my beautiful sight and replacing it with his horrible green eyes. I fixed my gaze on his damn crooked smile, the same one he gave to any asshole he had the guts to challenge and finish. I closed my eyes to avoid looking at him and in less than a second I moved my leg over his, hitting his balance and causing him to fall headlong to the floor, hitting the side of his temple. The blow echoed across the ground, earning laughter from some of our friends and whispers around us. I didn't stop to listen to what stupid people might be saying about what had just happened, but stood up heavily, still having a semi air of victory over my body, I wiped my hands on my pants, which deserved a full-fledged clean, and I ducked down to his figure on the floor.
"Not so bad for a country one, huh?" and with that I turned and walked towards the canteen, hoping to be in time before Sasha ate my slice of bread like most nights.
Back at my self lying on the muddy, doughy ground, my breathing come back to normal before my vision returned to having the leaves of the trees in sharp focus. I felt a great heaviness on my body and at the same time I felt like a feather, as if I was experiencing an out-of-body episode ... or was simply rambling. I got up in the same way as in that wonderful memory which for some strange reason happened to appear in my consciousness, and I leaned back on a tree before compiling myself and dragging my feet on the leaves.
"That’s it, I’m done" To be honest, I couldn’t do this anymore. To be honest, I wanted to disappear from the face of the earth and reincarnate in another life, many years in the future. To be honest, my sanity couldn't keep fighting anymore, but I was too cowardly to take my own life. I was tired, not only tired of fighting, but tired of this damn world that the only thing that achieved was to put us in a circle of hatred and anger between each other.
I took a few more steps towards some side of the forest, knowing that I had no idea where I was going, if it was the same side I came from or another completely different, heading right towards the hands of the Jaegeristas. Likewise, if they caught me, they would take me to the others. Would it have been worth it to have escaped from the beginning? Surely not, but I was praying with my few walking neurons that I had managed to take a little time out of them.
"I can still going"
I heard him say a few meters behind me. I could still hear the smoke coming from his veins, this time with much more vigor, a sign that he was about to heal completely. Damn bastard, he'd perfected his healing technique over the years and it didn't take more than five minutes to heal all of his wounds.
"Well I can't!" I screamed reluctantly, as if I was trying to convince myself to give me a break, even if that break meant losing the battle against a terrorist group.
My feet kept moving over the leaves until they hit a fallen tree branch and half caught up with it, causing me to lose my balance and fall sideways onto the bark of the same tree. I instinctively placed my hand and with the fall, the hand didn’t stay sufficiently attached to the surface and drifted to the side, scratching my skin and exposing the raw flesh. I rested my healthiest shoulder on the surface and held my hand. The blood came out slowly, in time with the rapid pumping of my heart, the palm was throbbing and I felt that throbbing not only in that area but also in my ears and in my chest. I blew on the wound to remove the small traces of dirt and grime on the flesh.
"I'm tired of continue fighting, I'm tired of fighting with you and I'm tired of this world, I'm going home"
"What home?" ok, of all the things Eren could have said right now, or all the things he said to me over the past few weeks, this was the one that had hurt the most, the one that had touched my heart the most.
The image of my mother being killed in front of me by a bullet in the head at the age of ten, the image of my father or what was left of him returning to my village after years in training, the image of my family's house destroyed and split in half, while parts of the steps were burned and made charcoal. The image of a cabin in the middle of a field, far from the city, calm, empty and silent, the one that for a couple of years was my residence and now it was used by the queen herself to give birth to the heir. All those images appeared in my mind without invitation to haunt me in a matter of seconds until I gave my answer.
"To what is left of it" I broke away from the surface of the tree and devoted myself to looking ahead and following the path that at first I was taking.
“Wait” behind me the sound of the smoke had stopped and the only thing I could hear was the rustling of the leaves under Eren, who was getting up and standing on his feet.
I ignored his claim and kept walking, always looking ahead and taking good care of where I stepped, I wasn’t in the mood to rip my other hand or fall back on the one that was already badly hurt.
“I said fucking wait” was the only thing I heard before feeling his hands on mine and my shoulder.
I no longer know how many times my back was hit against a surface, I just knew that at this point it would be full of bruises or most likely my back would be a whole bruise, having all the skin covered in a nice purple or black color. My head suffered the same fate, chunks of bark digging into my scalp and some snagging on my hair. Strands got tangled over small branches halfway out of the trunk and pulled my head that way, putting me in a very uncomfortable position. The hand Eren was holding stretched forward, threatening to stretch it further and dislocate my shoulder in the process, the other hand holding my shoulder tightening more and more against my flesh while holding the bone in an impossible way with his long, slender fingers.
If my heart wasn’t already racing too much, the pulsations went crazy when I felt his hand leave mine calmy and position my arm at my side with great care to move to free a lock of hair from the bark and position it behind my ear. Then he stroked my cheek in the same way he had done so many times before. His thumb wandered over my shallow cuts, pulling out the dried blood that had accumulated, and made circular motions over my badly injured cheekbone, as if he was trying to remove the pain that he himself had caused. I leaned my head to the side trying to prevent him from keep touching me, fixing my gaze on the floor, on his feet, on mine, and I hid my face behind the few strands that were loose.
“Look at me” his voice was nothing more than a whisper, only the silence of the forest gave the opportunity to hear him clearly.
My gaze remained embedded in the grass that surrounded the tree below our feet. His thumb, now positioned on my lower lip, forcefully applied pressure downward on the open flesh, parting my two lips and sticking his finger in just enough to play with the tips of my teeth. His index finger came under my chin and forced me to turn my head in his direction.
“Fuck. Look at me! ” His eyes penetrated mine and for the first time in a long time I could see a small glow reflected in them. But that glow, I guessed, wasn’t good at all. It wasn’t the same kind Eren had when he was fifteen, knowing he had the whole world ahead of him and he could be of use to humanity, but instead was the same kind he had before annihilating with extreme anger his opponent.
We stare at each other, his face getting closer to mine. I could feel his breath on my skin and his thumb was still playing with my teeth. The hand that was holding my shoulder began to caress the skin that was visible outside the shirt, over my neck, also sore and full of scratches.
In an attempt to get him to leave my lip alone, I bit down on the tip of his thumb, not hard enough to rip off a piece of meat, but hard enough to make him fucking pull his finger out of my mouth. He waved his hand trying to ease the pain and grabbed my other cheek, stretched it out, pinched it and left a red mark on the area, burning me for a few seconds.
"I missed you back in Liberio" He grabbed a lock of my neck and twisted it between his fingers, playing for a moment and pulling the roots so that my head leaned forward.
The fingers on the skin of my neck continued it’s movements, sometimes going towards the back of my neck, scratching the beginning of the root and pulling a few strands. The caresses were soft, like the massage of a feather, it gave me chills up my spine at the same time that I was having trouble breathing with each step of his fingertips on the bone of my neck. He stopped playing with my lock and cupped one of my cheeks in the palm of his hand, his skin cold compared to mine, warm from adrenaline. It was a somewhat invasive sensation, but at the same time, comforting and uncertain. His thumb again made circular motions over the wounded skin but this time avoiding the scratch marks.
"I missed the warmth of your cheeks and the shapes of your hands" His face moved closer to my neck, his nose brushing against the bruised skin and his breath tickling the tender spots between my neck and collarbone. His breathing made me shudder from head to toe, as if lightning had struck my body.
"Eren" it was pathetic to see how with a simple touch, my body responded so submissively.
I was trembling and not from the wind that blew from time to time over us, but from the multiple caresses on my neck; my cheek being forgotten and now the waist was being the focus point, his lips playing with my mental stability as he delicately rested on me neck, but not enough to lean on and kiss it. My brain was telling me everything was wrong, that I shouldn't be doing this, but my body asked for more, asking for a break, relax and let go. My innermost desires were screaming, begging, to be released, imploring me to succumb and break the tension that was obvious to them, but less to me.
What seemed like endless minutes, were limited seconds before I felt Eren's lips on my warm skin, his hand now resting completely on my neck and my waist, drawing me closer to him, at the same time that he imprisoned me against the tree. I was in the middle of two hard walls and unconsciously I didn't feel like moving. His soft lips compared to his hands and his acting from the last year, roamed under my chin and collarbone, making a path up and down, always repeating the same line of kisses that he left behind. The more kisses he implanted, the more aggressive, open and needy they were, all the while getting wetter and leaving a trail of saliva all around. His knee shifted between my legs, separating them and lifting me to sit barely on his leg, my crotch gently placed on his covered flesh and with each movement his leg applied the necessary pressure to begin get pathetic moans out of me.
"Better keep quiet, you don't want others to find out about our whereabouts" he growled through his teeth as he continued attacking my neck. Now I was sure that, not only would I end up with scratches, but also a few hickeys if Eren wasn't careful enough. What would be more embarrassing? They founding us hot and bothered against a tree or the fact that I was getting carried away sexually with the most wanted person in Paradis?
"Fuck, Eren ..." the hand on my waist tightened and I grabbed onto him, pulling me impossibly closer, fusing both bodies, one against the other's chest.
His hand guided my body back and forth, continuing to generate pressure on my core, a sweet agony that built very slowly, too slow for my liking. My legs were starting to feel numb from the bad posture Eren had me in and were shaking as his leg touched a weak spot. His fingers intertwined with my locks, tightening them and pulling my head back, having better access to my neck and being able to run his teeth through the fine skin. Eren always had a damn habit of biting, and biting hard, not to the point of bleeding, but under the circumstances, I doubted he had enough self-control to even mind ripping the skin. When his fangs aggressively bit my collarbone I grunted in discomfort, but even that feeling, the pleasure was much better. It hurt and it felt good.
Another bite, this time reaching the shoulder. His hand left my hair in peace and stretched the shirt, revealing more clearly his work on my neck and how the curve of my shoulder became more visible under the fabric.
My breathing was shaking, my hands resting on his biceps trying to find a point of balance, my nails dug into his jacket and my leg trying to curl over his for fear of falling. When his teeth came into contact with my shoulder again, aiming for the bone, I screamed in pain, pressing my body against his to dissipate the burning of his teeth on the broken skin. He let go of my shirt and squeezed my cheeks, fixing his eyes on mine violently and commanding me to shut up.
"Stay quiet if you don't want me to fuck you raw until you bleed" Before such a comment I was speechless, my neurons could not connect and I was left blank; the only thing in command now was my animalistic desire.
"Make me"
His lips slammed against mine, needy and eager. They were dry, too dry, and every brush against mine hurt, but neither of us cared about having two pairs of chapped and possibly bleeding lips. All we cared about was melting into each other. My hands dug into the hollow of his neck and his bun, which was already disarmed and strands fell on his forehead and sides, some fell right in front of his eyes, tickling my forehead and eyelashes.
I felt his hands descend to the curve of my butt and grab a good chunk of both cheeks before fully holding them. A little pressure and I was already jumping so I could hold on comfortably. Now we could both feel the center of each other, hot, throbbing and twitching. Every move Eren made to hold us together against the tree sent chills through my entire body, his notoriously erect and hard member rose in the right places and my moans were drowned out by his savage lips.
My nails dug into the back of his neck as I felt a stronger and more violent thrust on my sweet spot. I wanted it, needed it, and desired it. I wished this lustful feeling was the only thing I felt, that I would succumb and refuse to feel any other feelings. I wanted to give myself to him and use me if it meant letting go of all the negativity that had accumulated for weeks. I wanted to remove his clothes from him, to feel his sculpted, chunky muscles on the palms of my hand, wanted to feel his chest throbbing and warm on mine, wanted him completely. I pulled the jacket off his shoulders, getting stuck in his arms. Eren dropped me on the floor with a spear and took off his jacket to leave it god knows where.
"Hey! What the fuck- ”He didn't take long to kiss me again, now with his colossal body on top of mine.
I felt small under him, much more submissive, the sensation of his hands prowling the ends of my torso, reaching under the shirt and feeling my skin burning didn’t fix anything to the situation. His fingertips tickled my stomach, making me shudder every time they made their way to my abdomen. His tongue played with mine, distracting me from his deft fingers and his wickedness as he moved towards my chest and began to work on my nipples. He was a teassing bastard. His fingers poked and twisted one of my red, erect pebble. It was torturous to feel like between the puncture and the circular movement he took the time to stretch it and make it harder. With his other hand, he held my hip next to his, keeping it in it’s place as he balanced his hips against my pelvis. My legs opened involuntarily to better feel his member and in an agile movement he positioned himself between them, reconnecting both hips and placing them on both sides and holding him at the waist. With this, neither could escape the grasp of the other and we slowly melted away with each thrust and twist.
His hand came out from under my shirt and he started unbuttoning my shirt, one damn slow button at a time. Having my chest semi-exposed, his lips wandered towards my clavicle, passing the corner of my lips, the cheek, the jaw and the already sensitive neck, causing a groan to come out unexpectedly. His lips on the crook of my neck, his hands on the skin of my abdomen and his crotch on mine, I felt like I was exploding. I didn’t know where to put my hands, they went through his tousled hair, his shoulders, his biceps until they ended up under his shirt, feeling insecurely on the fingertips as touching his marked abs.
Every time I had the opportunity to admire his sturdy and worked body, it never ceased to amaze me how well puberty had done to him. His body able to surround me and cover me against the floor, pressing so that we could both feel the heat emanating from the other. I hadn't been able to tell him when he was in prison, but seeing him hunched over and exposing his torso and back muscles really had a great effect on me, seeing him wet, being able to discern some drops falling from his head onto his neck, was like seeing an oasis and I was a thirsty one, eager to sink my face into its sweet waters. I had been deprived of touching them at the time, but now that I was doing it, it wasn’t enough, I needed to see them with my own eyes as my fingers ran over them, while I ran my nails and left small marks that would dissipate in seconds. 
The hand back on my chest was the boost I needed to lift his shirt up to his neck. Eren detached himself from me for a few seconds and got rid of the garment in the same way as his jacket, but he didn’t attack my neck like I so much wanted. Instead, his eyes stayed glued to my chest, seeing the work his deft fingers had done on my swollen nipples.
"Fuck" he growled as he ran his eyes over my semi-naked submissive body on the grass.
He bent down to level with his desired pebbles and caressed them with both hands, both giving them equal attention. I let my head fall back, closing my eyes and enjoying the sensation, but there was a moment when his fingers weren't enough anymore. I brought my hand up to his head, running my nails over his scalp, and pulled him forward, leaving him inches from my needy nipples. Eren got the hint because he quickly ran his tongue over one of them while the other was still torturing with his thumb and index finger. His mouth closed on the nipple and he sucked like it’s the only thing able to keep him alive, too painful but that didn't matter to me. He left a trail of saliva when he separated from the bundle with a 'pop' and dedicated himself to giving the other the same attention. I groaned at the needed action, causing his dick to hit my core. I was losing his mind, it was too much and at the same time, it wasn’t enough. I needed to continue, I wanted it with every fiber of my being. My nails had nothing better to do than run down his back and my legs wedged closer to his waist. I felt his dick throb and couldn't help thinking of the veins that ran through it, ending on his pretty and red head, he pre-sum that was surely coming out and wetting his pants, I couldn't help but wish to had him inside me and feel those same veins brush my velvet walls and go crazy with each thrust.
As my thoughts wandered of what was to come, Eren's lips left my nipples and focused back on my neck, this time on the side where my scar was. He left little kisses around the shoulder and around the mark, running up and down the shape, ending a little above the chest. His action was too sweet, too tender compared to his wild and hungry movements. My eyes widened instantly, if his intention was to make me uncomfortable, he had done it. If the intention was to ruin the fervid and hectic moment by reliving the scariest moment of my life, he was damned succeeding. How could I keep my composure when he was kissing the mark I had "earned" by going on a mission to rescue him? How could I stay calm when the memories of an onslaught of titans haunted my mind again, ready to devour me while I was lying on the ground with my movement equipment displaced and my shoulder immobilized by the bleeding wound? The memory of a stone flying towards my face, dodging it at the last moment and ending up hitting my shoulder bone, dislocating it, tearing the skin and flesh and noticing how the blood spurted out, soaking my shirt and jacket. My breathing started to hit, and not in the good way, and apparently Eren wasn’t realizing or hadn't taken it the wrong way.
It was like a bucket of cold water in pure winter. My mind suddenly cleared and every trace of heat my body ever had dissipated, leaving only a cold, stiff container.
"Wait, wait...no, no, this is bad" I put my hands on his shoulders and jerked him off.
"Why?" His eyes didn’t deign to inspect mine. Any normal person in their right mind, just by looking at my pale face could deduct that something was wrong.
"Why? I- You are the number one enemy in the world and of the military police, I would have to give you up and not making up with you right now"
I was babbling as well as shaking. I got up and settled onto my legs, sitting stiffly on the ground. Eren had come to the side before my body crashed against his when I got up and he was looking at me without any expression, as if nothing had happened, as if the only one who had been feeling something, even if it was a minimal sensation of pleasure, it was me, and that made me feel sick.
"I would have to be angry, make you shit on the floor and take you to pieces towards the wall Sina" at any moment I was going to throw up, I knew it. I knew my body perfectly to know that in every moment of tension and panic, my stomach would start to annoy me, to go into spasms and hit me internally. "I shouldn't be doing this with you"
"Is that so bad? Listen to your desires, follow your instincts? " His hands came to rest on my waist and without any permission from me, he placed me on his lap, both of us being face to face, chest to chest.
His words entered my ears and stayed reverberating in my mind. What to do? I was doing everything wrong, but at the same time they felt so good. I wanted to continue thoroughly, but I knew that morally it was wrong, more than wrong, it was horrible what I was doing, anyone could tell me that. I felt bad about myself, but ... deep inside me, there was a small feeling that was getting bigger and bigger and wanted, screamed, to be released. I was so indecisive and overwhelmed that all I could do was cry.
Pathetic. I was really pathetic.
I lowered my head on his shoulder, keeping the tears from being visible to this callous shit. His hands on my waist didn't feel at all comforting as he began to move his thumb in a circular motion. My hands formed into fists and I hit his shoulders repeatedly, each hit receiving a kiss on the head. My energies were exhausted at the very begining and I rested my fists on my waist, my head now barely suspended in front of him, not looking at him.
"I hate you" he kissed my shoulder.
"I know" another kiss, this time on the other shoulder, on my scar.
"I fucking hate you" my knuckles turned white from how hard I was clenching my fists.
"I know" he kissed a tear that had escaped my lashes and was running freely down my cheek.
"You're a piece of shit"
I opened my eyes to find a pair of beautiful turquoise eyes, bright and full of life. Eren placed his hand on my cheek, running his thumb every time a tear fell down it. He leaned down and captured my lips with his sweetly, the tears falling and falling, faster and faster and more forming in my closed eyes. The kiss had a salty taste, my heart was about to leave my chest and when Eren broke away I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to take it anymore.
"…I know"
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johaerys-writes · 3 years ago
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Fandom: The Song of Achilles
Pairing: Achilles/Patroclus
My entry for Day 1: Music & Day 2: Deities of @patrochillesweek​ 2021! Where the Greeks in Troy celebrate Dionysus' festival, and Achilles and Patroclus spend some time alone (~4.5k words, rated E for smut, check Ao3 link for full list of tags)
Read on Ao3!
Chapter 1: With a Shuddering Gasp
The music from the lyres and cymbals drifted through the camp, mingling with the crackling of flames from the many bonfires that had been lit. The celebrations for Dionysus’ festival had been going on for most of the day and the night before, and the scent of incense and wine hung heavy in the air.
I had never before attended such a festival. It wasn’t celebrated this widely in Opus or Phthia, where I had grown up. The Dionysia was among the largest festivals in Athens, celebrated with days and nights filled with drink, dance and theatrical performances of all kinds. Here, in the Achaean’s camp, where people from the farthest reaches of Greece gathered, it had quickly become a tradition.
I had been in the healers’ tent for most of the day, and now the moon hung high over the dark sea. My fingers were red from scrubbing, my eyes were tired, and the pungent scent of astringent was thick in my nostrils. I was weary, but it was a pleasant sort of weariness. When I worked, my mind was free of thoughts, of worries. I focused only on the act of healing, on helping the wounded soldiers as best I could. A bloody skirmish earlier that day had filled the beds in the tent to bursting, yet no lives had been lost. Perhaps the Trojans had been as tired of bloodshed as the Greeks were on that chilly February afternoon.
“Your wound needs to be cleaned and dressed once a day,” I told the soldier I'd been tending to, securing the bandage around his arm. “And stay away from the thick of the fight, if you can help it. Sweat and dirt will only slow down the healing.”
He nodded and stood up, limping away. I brushed the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand, letting out a soft sigh, just as Philomela, one of the healers’ assistants, approached me.
“It’s late, Patroclus,” she said. “You should join the celebrations, before they are over.”
I smiled at her. She was small in stature, with her wild curly hair bound in tight braids. She was one of Menelaus’ women, taken after an attack on one of the northern villages of Troy. She’d been brought to me one day with a cut on her thigh, her knees scraped, her eyes wide in panic and terror. I had been the first to treat her, and she had since regarded me with kindness and reserved affection. Menelaus was kind with his women, and he often let her join me while I worked, helping me, and I taught her what I knew.
“I don’t often join festivals like these,” I told her earnestly. “There's too much noise and commotion, and I am not a heavy drinker.”
“What about your prince?” she asked, her gaze darting away before settling on me again. “Achilles?”
The name was uttered quietly, almost apprehensively. It always stung, just a little, to know that the captives thought of Achilles with so much trepidation. His exploits had earned him something of a reputation, as I understood it: the Greeks revered him, while the Trojans feared the very mention of him. Philomela had visited our camp once or twice, and had seen that Achilles was quiet, almost gentle, when he wasn’t in his armour, yet a hint of disquiet was always there.
I shook my head, dipping my hands in the brass bowl that we used to clean ourselves. The water was cold and refreshing when I splashed it over my face and neck.
“Achilles does not much enjoy noisy gatherings like these either,” I said. “He... prefers being on his own these days.”
It had not always been so. Achilles relished the attention of others; he blossomed with it, and there was bound to be much of it if he joined in the celebration. His campaigns over the last couple of months had been met with overwhelming success, filling his men’s coffers with gold and riches and their camps with slaves. The leaders of the Achaeans would toast him and drink plenty of wine in his honour, the bards would sing of his achievements and his skill in battle until the early morning. Yet, boasting such as this was not always met with alacrity. There were many amongst the Danaans that envied Achilles the power of his station, and sneered at his reputation when they thought he was out of earshot.
Achilles was proud, and rarely paid attention to rumours and gossip. Yet, when he sometimes refused to grace Agamemnon’s lavish dinners with his presence, I could tell it was because the leader of the Greeks occasionally had trouble holding his tongue, especially after a few cups of wine. That was when the older man would gloat and boast, often blowing his own achievements out of proportion, in an effort to measure up to Achilles’ greatness, his promise of glory, the prophecy that had followed him since the moment of his birth, his reputation that only grew, day after day.
One does not need the blood of a goddess, he would say, his cheeks flushed from the drink, eyes gleaming, after recounting a story that was supposedly about a hero of old, if they have the favour of one. Would you not agree, Pelides?
Achilles pretended not to hear, not to know. He would smile at Agamemnon with all his teeth and toast him graciously, as Peleus had taught him, but he was still a man. He had learned to hide his true feelings from others, but I could still see how the whispers fuelled his frustration, how they turned him bitter, even when he insisted they did not.
Achilles was sharp and direct from nature; it troubled him when others were not. He wanted things to be simple and clear-cut, yet, here, they were anything but.
I sighed again, patting my hands dry on a linen towel. Philomela was by my side when we walked out of the tent, and into the festivities. The bonfires were burning high into the night, and from the lit braziers tendrils of incense smoke curled towards the stars. Soldiers and their women gathered around the heat, drinking and dancing to the rhythm of the music that the bands were tirelessly playing. Not a few were wearing animal furs, their faces darkened with soot, as was the custom.
No sooner had I walked out than someone grabbed me by the arm and thrust a cup of wine in my hands. I blinked up, startled, to see Diomedes grinning at me.
"Come," he said. "Drink. Celebrate with us."
I smiled politely and shook my head. "I really should be going back."
"What for?" Odysseus was quick to appear beside him, his usual easy smile ready on his lips. "You've been working all day. Everyone deserves a break, from time to time."
"That's right." Diomedes' wolfish grin got wider, his dark eyes sparkling. "All work and no play makes people dull, haven't you heard?"
Odysseus smiled encouragingly at me behind the rim of his own cup. "Have a drink with us. Just because he doesn't join us anymore doesn't mean you can't."
Of course he was referring to Achilles. It had not gone unnoticed that he had been avoiding gatherings such as these of late. I swallowed as I accepted the cup and reluctantly brought it to my lips. If my presence there could smooth those ruffled feathers, then a drink or two couldn't be that bad, could it?
The wine hit my tongue in a rush of heat, honey and spices. It warmed me as it glided down my throat, pushing the edges of my weariness away. I took another draught, letting its acidic sweetness jolt me awake.
My mild surprise must have been plain on my features, for Diomedes clapped me on the shoulder, chuckling knowingly. "That's it," he said, "that's a good lad. Now, drink up."
I didn't need further encouragement. The wine was unlike any I've ever tried; before long, I had drained my cup, and a servant had filled it to the brim again. The wild cadence of the drums and the flutes matched the beats of my heart, and I wasn't even thinking about my tired and aching limbs when Menelaus' arm wound around my shoulders, pulling me towards the writhing, undulating crowd.
In the smoke of the fires, in the heat of so many bodies moving close together, I forgot about my troubles, my worries. The edges of consciousness blurred, a mist that curled around me, rendering me indefinable. I closed my eyes and simply moved to the rhythm, blending into the crowd like a single petal amongst countless falling cherry blossoms, swirling with the wind.
In the depth of that mist, in the midst of that insubstantial territory, I saw him.
Achilles.
I saw him as he was once, years before, far away from the fires and blood of the war, from the intrigue, the whispers, the jealousy. I saw him running down the beach in Phthia, the pink undersides of his feet flickering. I saw the rich honey brown strands that hid in the depths of his golden hair, the wind that combed through them and brought them before his eyes when he turned to look at me. I saw him swimming in the stream in Pelion, the water running down his limbs in laze swirls.
I could see him clearly in my mind's eye, as if he were there. I could see him laughing, singing, playing his lyre in the pale light of morning, golden and vibrant and carefree. And in him, I saw myself.
I opened my eyes as the beat of the music reached a wild crescendo, as the people cheered and sang at the top of their lungs. Cups were raised high up in the air, wine swirling, overflowing, spilling from its confines and mixing with the brown dirt underfoot. Menelaus was dancing with one of his women — Aristea, his favourite, the fabric of her colourful dress tangling at her ankles as he swirled her about. Her laughter was drowned out by the noise, fading away.
I took a deep breath to center my focus, and stepped back, away from the crowd. My heart was still beating fast, and the music was hypnotic, but I knew I had to return to my own camp before it got too late.
Odysseus and Diomedes were caught in the festivities as well, so no one noticed me slipping away. Only Philomela's eyes caught mine amidst the sea of bobbing heads, and pushed her way towards me. She was holding a bowl filled with the sweets that the slaves had made earlier that day for the festival, dried fruits stuffed with nuts and drenched with syrup.
"For you," she said, smiling warmly at me, "and your prince."
~
The music and noisy chatter from the festival had dulled to a hazy, distant thrum by the time I made my way back to our camp. I was still feeling lightheaded from the drink, breathless from dancing and weaving through the endless rows of tents and throngs of inebriated, laughing soldiers. My brow was damp with sweat despite the chilly night, and my pulse still thumped in my throat in a strange sort of anticipation, a restless hunger. I clutched the bowl close to my chest, and hurried on.
The soft, plaintive sounds of Achilles’ lyre reached me as soon as I caught sight of the Phthian banners, fluttering in the breeze at the edges of our encampment.
Achilles was sitting on a bench, my mother’s golden lyre nestled in his lap. His fingers ran over the strings languidly, plucking notes that were brighter than water from a babbling stream, sweeter than honey. In the fire’s trembling halo, he seemed ethereal, very nearly transparent, yet at the same time more vibrant than I had ever seen him, dispelling the darkness of the night beyond. His hair caught the amber light on the flames and reflected it in aureate strands, his skin shimmered like polished gold, the muscles of his arms rose and fell underneath it like waves with every movement.
Beautiful, my mind supplied, as it always did when I looked at him. I had been gazing upon him since I was a child; it still was not enough for me to get used to him, to the effortless grace of his presence, the perfect symmetry of his eyes, his lips. The festivities that had been raging for a day and a night may have well been for Dionysus, yet it was Achilles, right there before me, who looked like a god, one for whom people gathered on wintry nights like this, to drink and dance and fornicate in his honour.
Would people remember him with kindness, I wondered, many years from now?
His jade green eyes snapped up to mine, and the familiar heat rushed through me, brushing away my swirling, distracted thoughts.
He set the lyre beside him and stood up. “You stayed with the healers until late tonight,” he said.
“I did,” I replied simply, standing at the edge of the fire. The bowl with the sweets was still cradled in my chest. Achilles glanced at it curiously, then at me.
“Is there something amiss?” he asked.
Of course he could tell I was different, just by looking at me, without me having to say anything. He always understood so much more about me than he let on.
“I just like looking at you.”
Achilles tilted his head ever so slightly to the side in question, a tiny fox’s smile curling the edges of his lips. He stood up and paced towards me unhurriedly, his footsteps barely audible on the soft earth.
My pulse raced ever so slightly when his finger brushed carefully under my eye. “You’re flushed,” he said.
“I had some wine. At the festival.”
“Ah.” His finger travelled higher, tracing my cheekbone. “Your pupils are larger than usual. What did you do?”
“Nothing.” I smiled. “It’s so I can see you better.”
Achilles huffed a quiet laugh at that, his features softened by pleasure. He always liked it when I gazed at him, praised him. The sound of his laughter slithered down my spine like warmed honey.
I do not know what possessed me then. Perhaps it was the drink, or the moon that hung high above us like a silver coin, or the way the firelight danced in his eyes and caressed the side of his face, but I had to be alone with him.
I took his hand in mine, walking backwards towards our tent. I could not look away, nor did I want to.
“One of Menelaus’ women gave me these sweets,” I told him. “They’re for you.”
“Is that so?” he hummed, amused. He caught on the game I was playing instantly, by reflex. “Then I’ll be sure to try them.”
We stepped in the tent together, the leather flap closing soundlessly behind us. I set the bowl on the low table that stood in the center of the place that we had come to call home, ever since we’d come to Troy.
We stood opposite each other across the table, facing each other, our breaths the only sounds. I swallowed; I did not know why I was feeling so restless all of a sudden, like it was the first time we had found ourselves alone.
“Take your pick,” I said, gesturing at the bowl.
Achilles quirked a fair brow as he glanced down at them, like a lord perusing a lowly merchant’s stall. “I will not choose at random,” he replied in an artfully haughty tone. “You must choose for me. You are my therapon; I know you will choose well.” He was in a playful mood, smiling at me like a mischievous boy; I loved it when he got like this. I didn’t often get to see him like that anymore.
I picked up one of the sweets and brought it to my lips. My teeth sank in the supple flesh of a dried fig, the walnuts within it softened from the syrup. I chewed slowly, my eyes never leaving him.
“How is it?” he asked. “Is it good?”
I shook my head. “Not good enough for you, my prince.”
Achilles bit back a grin, eyes shining. “Go on, then. Try another.”
And so I did. I picked up the syrupy fruits slowly, one after another, watching him. Every time Achilles asked me how it was, I answered in the same fashion: “Not good enough for you, my prince.”
I tried one of every sweet in the bowl, until my tongue clung to the roof of my mouth with the sweetness. When I had finished my thorough examination, Achilles crossed his arms leisurely before his chest.
“So, what is your verdict?” he asked, smirking. “Which one amongst them is the sweetest for me?”
I licked my lips, sticky with honey and spices, as my heartbeat soared. I reached into the bowl and dipped two fingers in the syrup, then slowly, holding Achilles’ gaze, I lifted them to my neck, dragging them across my skin.
“I am, my prince.”
Achilles’ eyes flashed in the half dark. There was something feral about the way his gaze honed in on me; a hunter’s gleam. He circled the table, closing the distance between us in two well-measured strides. I could smell the sweet scent of his sweat as he leaned in close, and a deeper, muskier one; the smell of his arousal. I bit the inside of my lip as his arm wound around my waist, pulling me until I was flush against him.
“Then I shall have you,” he whispered in my ear.
I shivered when his tongue brushed the side of my neck, warm and slick, velvet smooth. My head tipped backwards and I clung to him, holding him tight against me. His skin was hot to the touch underneath the fabric of his chiton, hotter than my own. Achilles’ mouth traced the hollow of my throat, the line of my jaw, the curve of my chin, before brushing over my own.
“I believe,” he hummed, his tongue flicking over my bottom lip, “this, here, is the sweetest yet.” His hands were on the base of my spine, drawing me in, and I was helpless in his hold. “You chose well.”
A soft moan escaped me, my fingers sinking into Achilles’ fragrant strands while he kissed me until my breath was all but gone from me. I followed the line of his neck, his shoulder, undoing the golden clasps that held his chiton in place. I could feel the weight of his waking interest pressing up against my thigh, and I suddenly couldn’t bear the feeling of clothes between us, or anything else; it had to be just us.
I pushed the fabric down, caressing and kissing every inch of skin I uncovered. I looked up at him when I had sunk down on my knees before him, bare as he was, his form illuminated by the shifting light of the brazier. My pulse hummed in my ears as I let my gaze follow the muscled planes of his chest and stomach, the definition in his arms, the strength of his powerful legs. He was watching me, too, through eyelashes that gleamed like threads of gold.
“My sweet Patroclus,” he whispered, thumb brushing over my lips, and in his gaze that familiar fondness lingered, unchanged through the many years I’d known him.
This. This was how I liked him best. When he was naked before me, body and heart, looking at me like this, touching me like this. This was when I knew he was mine, and mine alone; the world could not take this from me. From us.
I leaned forward and wrapped my lips around him, taking him in my mouth. Achilles shivered underneath me, his lips falling open on a quiet moan. His emerald eyes were dark with wanting, bottomless, when he reached down and threaded his long fingers through my hair. I was caught, pinned under that gaze, magnetised.
“Achilles,” I breathed, kissing the smooth skin of his navel as I stroked him, breathing in the musk of his sweat, the scent that rose from him: sandalwood, pomegranate, almonds and earth.
His hold on the back of my head tightened. He pulled me up gently and nudged me towards our bed, and I followed, half stumbling over my own toes.  
My back sank into the furs as Achilles climbed over me, hovering above me. His smile was half-obscured by the trembling shadows, framed by the curtain of golden hair that fell around his face. The scent of the oil he used wafted in the air when he opened the vial that lay beside our bed.
“There’s more I haven’t tried,” he said.
“Is there?” I whispered. I spread my thighs wider apart, sighing when I felt the pressure of his fingers between my legs.
“Yes.” He kissed and nipped his way down, glancing up at me mischievously every time his fingers and tongue drew more shivers from me. His breath was hot over me when he said, “I have saved the best for last.”
I laughed, but the edges of my laughter broke on a strained sob of pleasure. I could feel him everywhere, his hands wandering all over me, the heat of his mouth swallowing me whole. I closed my eyes and surrendered to him, to this blissful, blessed torture. I was helplessly drawn to him, in his hands a mere plaything. Like the lyre he played, I was but an instrument, his touches drawing sounds from me that were meant for his ears alone.
When my heart had been filled to bursting, just when I thought that I would unravel in his hands, he pulled back, climbing back up the length of me again. His cheeks were flushed and so were his lips, his length hard against my skin where it touched me.
I reached up and cupped the back of his neck, heart beating wildly in my chest. “Is there more you’d like to try?” I asked in a teasing whisper. “Or have you had enough?”
“Enough?” His laughter was husky, a tad breathless. He kissed me deeply, reaching for the oil once more. “I’ll never have enough, philtatos.”
I gasped softly when he pressed against me, opening me up. My arms and legs wound around him, as if by rote, clutching him hard, pulling him to me. We were flush against each other, our bodies locking perfectly like two pieces of a whole. There was no one else but him in the world; there was no room for anything else. Just my skin touching his skin, the smell of his hair and the sweetness of his mouth, his quiet sighs in the half dark, and this hunger: these endless wells of aching want that existed between us, this fire that burned eternal.
We moved and breathed in unison, the edges between us blurring once more, our bodies melting into one. I closed my eyes and lost myself in that heat, that pressure, the pleasure that built and built, yet it was still him that I saw behind my eyelids. Even when my gaze turned inward and I drifted, swimming in the deepest recesses of my mind, I could always find him there, waiting for me, his image crisp as if he were right before me. He was a part of me, as I was of him; there was no me without him.
Achilles buried his face in the crook of my neck as he thrust deeper, harder, more urgently. His brow was damp with sweat now, his fingers digging into the flesh of my thigh where he held me fast. I was pinned underneath him, legs spread open at either side of his powerful hips, my hands roaming over the taut muscles of his back. Muscles that I knew better than my own, lines and angles that I could trace in the dark, with my eyes closed.
“Patroclus,” Achilles said in a shuddering gasp against my throat as his thrusts got faster, more erratic. “Patroclus—”
Achilles often got impatient, chasing his finish like a lion locked on to a deer, yet I didn’t want this to end just yet. I didn’t want to lose this warm, melding feeling. I hugged him tightly and pushed him to the side, flipping us both around.
I pinned his wrists above his head and held his gaze as I rolled my hips slowly, sinking down on him.
Achilles looked up at me, flushed and panting, his skin glistening, his hair spread in lazy golden swirls about his head. I leaned down, pressing my forehead to his.
“The fastest of the Greeks,” I hummed, “in all things, it seems.”
Achilles laughed, the sound vibrating through me where we were connected. “A champion in all things, you mean.” He grinned wickedly, yet it wasn’t long before his laughter turned into breathless, shaky moans again, his length stiffening within me. My name poured forth from his mouth with every breath, over and over, kissing it onto my lips, whispering it over my flushed and warmed up skin.
Achilles had never told me that he loved me, and I had never told him. It was always understood between us, a truth as natural as breathing, buried deep beneath our skin and woven in our bones. Yet when he said my name like this — Patroclus, Pa-tro-clus — repeated it like a chant, like it was holy, I knew well what he meant.
And so did he.
“Achilles,” I whispered into his hair, threading my fingers through his. “Achilles,” I gasped when he bucked, arching underneath me. “Achilles,” I breathed, when I felt the warmth of his pleasure blossoming inside me, when he melted in my arms, when his eyelids fell over his eyes like the petals of a nightflower at dusk.
We lay like this for a long while, arms and legs tangled atop the furs. I held him tight, long after our breaths had eased and our heartbeats had found their natural rhythm. The music and voices from the festival drifted through the leather walls of our tent, mingled with the trill of the crickets, the hoot of distant night birds hidden in the trees. Though I knew where we were, what lay beyond the safe haven of our small home; though the weight of a long day of healing death was quick to return to my limbs, it did not quite stir the peace between us. I had him, like this, soft and pure and unblemished like the first time I’d seen him, the first time I’d kissed him, the first time I’d laid with him. No one could take this from me. From us.  
“Patroclus,” Achilles sighed sleepily, nuzzling into the hollow of my throat, arms coming around me to hold me close.
Yes, I thought. I knew well what he meant, when he said my name like this.
“Achilles,” I whispered in return, and closed my eyes.
~
Thank you so much for reading! Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated :) If you enjoyed this one-shot, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Have a great day! <3
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link4eva · 3 years ago
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Kiro’s Mind’s Quest: Infatuation Play Translation Part 2 [CN]
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Hey! Here’s Part 2 of Infatuation Play. Here is Part 1 if you haven’t read it yet.
Enjoy~ 💛
*Spoilers for future content below!*
[Chapter 4]
MC: It seems I’ve put too much salt in the seasoning….
MC: If it’s salty…. add more water!
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Kiro: Haha. 
Kiro was amused by what I said, and he shook off a piece of beef and tasted it.
Kiro: Good to eat!
Kiro also gave me a piece, the evening light leaked in from the window, reflecting a small layer of fluff on his face.
In the steam, the spicy and delicious smell seemed to dispel the previously unremarkable smell in the house.
I took a sip of soda and brought up the topic from before. *Changed some wording*
MC: By the way, in addition to encountering the big challenge of an actor’s career, filming NG….
MC: Is there anything else that left an impression on you?
Kiro looked down and thought about it seriously.
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Kiro: Does scaring a crying kid count? 
MC: Of course!
Kiro smiled when he saw the eagerness on my face to hear the story.
Kiro: This scene is also related to entering the character state.
Kiro: In order to maintain this state, I kept myself bored in the hotel room for a long time….
Kiro: Probably because of my routine, no one reminded me.
Kiro: Later, I didn’t know the exact time anymore. When I came out, I felt that I had been in the dark for a long time.
Kiro: I realized that I was a bit too immersed, so I went to buy a bottle of soda to take a break.
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Kiro: Then I met a kid in the crew…. I didn’t do anything, he just saw me and then cried. 
Kiro’s voice was very low, and the hot pot gurgled.
I think of Kiro’s immersive performance on the screen, and then I dig a little deeper into what he said just now-- *Changed some wording*
It was as if he had a bitter fruit in his heart, and he desperately wanted to hide it from me. The more bitter it was, the stronger the taste.
In the end, the fruit still found its way into my heart.
I sniffed and couldn’t help joking.
MC: From another perspective, that kid got to watch a scene for free.
Kiro raised his eyes, and I continued with a smile.
MC: I want to watch the exclusive performance of the big star Kiro too!
MC: Thinking about it this way, I feel a little jealous.
I took his hand and his fingertips quivered slightly.
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Kiro: Don’t you think I’m not doing well enough? As a professional actor, I shouldn’t be in this situation. 
I shook my head.
MC: Remember, you asked me before if there was anything interesting about this business trip.
MC: In fact, in the city where I was on business, there would be lively gatherings at night on the street next to the hotel.
MC: Looking down from the balcony, there are clusters of lights, and everyone sits on the steps and chats casually.
MC: When I saw it, I was thinking, “I must bring Kiro here next time. He will love the sparkling cider here.”
I looked at Kiro brightly. He seemed to be imagining the scene I described with slight waves in his eyes.
MC: I want to share with you all the good and bad, brilliant and lonely times.
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MC: You can be imperfect, you can have lonely and dark moments because I will be with you. 
MC: We share each other’s lives. No matter what life it is, as long as we experience it together, it is enough.
Those blue eyes staring at me seemed to be lit by some kind of warm light for a moment, filled with soft emotions.
I paused and asked him softly.
MC: I remember that every time you acted in a play, you would bid farewell to them at the end.
MC: You said that you were lucky to participate in a period of their lives and experienced their emotions.
MC: So in the end, you have to bid farewell to the partners you have been working with….
MC: Looking forward to another time and space, they will continue their lives.
MC: Did you say goodbye this time?
Kiro looked at me and suddenly reached out and wiped the oil stains on my lips.
The boiling of the hot pot sounded and there seemed to be some fragments of emotions in his eyes that had melted silently.
He paused, turned his head and raised the bear cup on the table. He raised it in the air, the emotions in his eyes were clear and calm.
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Kiro: Americano is still too bitter, I prefer to drink soda. 
Kiro: The hot pot made by Miss Chips is delicious. As long as you are with her, even the little things like walking your dog to the supermarket are worth remembering.
His gaze flickered over the neatly coded script on the sofa, and there was a sense of relief in his voice.
Kiro: What you didn’t find, I did.
Kiro: In the time and space I don’t know, you will definitely find what you want, and come back to shine on the stage again.
Kiro: Now, it’s time to say goodbye to you.
The starry sky is gentle, and the steam from the hot pot rises, almost like a response. The wind blows the curtains and the room is full of starlight. *Changed some wording*
We are both covered.
(Cut to the living room)
MC: What’s going on with Cello lately? She seems to be more irritable.
MC: Not only did she knock over the sunflower vase in the living room, but also bit her tail….
I pet Cello who was being held in Kiro’s arms and spoke tentatively.
It is said that the mood of pets will be influenced by the owner. Is Cello….? 
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Kiro looked away with a guilty conscience. 
Kiro: Maybe it’s because the season makes everyone more irritable.
Kiro: [coughs] Just leave her be, save the sunflower first.
He found a new vase in the cabinet and handed it to me. I trimmed the sunflower’s branched and leaves that had been bitten by Cello.
Kiro sat cross-legged across from me and stared at me without blinking. I was a little embarrassed to be stared at.
MC: What are you looking at?
Kiro tilted his head at me and his blond hair swayed slightly. It was obviously a naughty action, but the smile in his eyes was very gentle.
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Kiro: Of course I was looking at Miss Chips. 
Kiro: Looking at your actions, expressions, the flower in your hand, and…. 
Kiro’s tone was stretched out and I followed his gaze to see the light-coloured hairband on the side of my head.
The soft end of the hairband slid down my neck and onto my skin.
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MC: KI-RO! 
I blushed for a moment and when I was hurriedly trying to retie my hairband, my hand was suddenly grabbed.
I looked up and under the frivolity of the sun, I didn’t know when Kiro got so close to me that I could see the creases on his lips.
His gaze fell on the end of my hair. He tucked the hairband lightly and winked at me.
Kiro: Miss Chips, let me help you.
Without waiting for my answer, he took a strand of my hair and maneuvered his hands dexterously, rubbing my earlobes with his fingertips which caused a burst of scorching heat.
The hairband is like a streamer that can be held in his hand, and he is the creator of beauty.
The mood is changing silently at this moment as we stay so close. *Changed some wording*
No matter how difficult the moments we encounter are, they will definitely be healed in the accompanying time.
After a while, Kiro held my face and looked at it with satisfaction.
Kiro: That’s it.
I reached up to touch the hairband and couldn’t help but smile. *Changed some wording*
MC: You even tied a small bow! 
Kiro: Of course, this is the exclusive mark of Kiro.
Kiro picked up the end of the hairband and looked down at me tenderly. His blue eyes were like a vast and boundless sea and I willingly indulged in it.
(Cut to morning)
The morning light was in the room and the sound of the phone vibrating awakened me from my sleep. I picked up the phone and pressed the answer button.
MC: Kiki? What’s wrong?
Kiki: Boss, the project you flew abroad to talk about has passed!
Kiki: Anna received the letter of intent last night, and the person in charge there said that he hoped the date of the contract signing could be confirmed today.
Kiki: Where are you now? Come and visit the company!
MC: Okay, I’ll be there.
I hung up and turned my head, Kiro’s sleeping face came into view.
He seems to be having a good sleep and his lips are slightly upturned, he looks particularly meek. *Changed some wording*
MC: ….
It looks like he is still a little sick. *Changed some wording*
The lack of sleep made my brain work a little slow, so I shook my head in an attempt to wake myself up a bit.
Just as I was hesitating whether to go, Kiro woke up with a hint of sleepiness in his eyes. He was startled when he saw my neatly dressed look.
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Kiro: [cute sleepy voice] Is something happening at the company? 
(If you pick “No”)
Seeing Kiro’s still pale cheeks, I shook my head and smiled at him.
MC: Nothing, I was just talking to Kiki.
But Kiro looked at me and suddenly smiled.
Kiro: Miss Chips, you should go do more important things first.
Kiro: I will wait here for you to come back.
Seeing him look at me quietly, I nodded gently.
(If you pick “yes”)
I was conflicted for a moment and then nodded honestly.
MC: There is a little situation that needs to be dealt with, but….
Before I finished speaking, I saw Kiro stretch out lazily with a slight smile in his tone.
Kiro: I will wait for your return.
He looked no different from what I was familiar with. I hesitated for a moment and finally nodded gently.
[Memory Silhouette]
MC: Hahahahahaha! This episode is so funny!
I laughed so much that my cheeks hurt and I had to lean against Kiro’s arms. He opened his arms and caged me in them.
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Kiro: Is the way I eat mustard so funny? 
I lifted my head and looked at him as he asked me. 
The sun was shining on us warmly through the French windows, Kiro’s milk fragrance also wrapped around the tip of my nose. I couldn’t help but squeeze his cheek with my hand.
MC: No, but I like it.
MC: Didn’t someone say that if there is a person who can keep you smiling, then he must be an important presence in your life.
MC: You make me laugh without even thinking about it, your existence turns cloudy days into sunny ones. *Changed some wording*
As if he had accepted my theory, Kiro no longer struggled with his expression about the variety show, so he clicked the button to continue playing. 
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Kiro: Okay, I agree with Miss Chips. 
This variety show has Kiro as a guest appearance. When he participated in the show, he had not yet joined the cast to make a movie. The show was as bright as a little sun.
In the space between the advertisements, I quickly glanced sideways at the person next to me.
Over the past few days, I can feel his gradual relaxation.
It’s not that I’m always vigilant, telling myself that I have to be happy in front of him, but because when I’m with him, I can relax and smile.
I liked this relaxed and soft Kiro.
MC: But speaking of it, in this variety show, I see you in a way that I don’t usually see.
MC: Planting seedlings, bargaining with the owner of a small shop, and making mosquitos nests by yourself.
MC: So Kiro turned out to be a secret master of life?
MC: So when I was making homemade cranberry cupcakes, a certain superstar asked me to teach him how to beat the egg yolks?
After being questioned, Kiro gave a cheeky “um”.
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Kiro: That’s because, in the cast, I need to play the image of SuperHero. This is my job. 
Kiro: But in front of Miss Chips, I can be willful and not so perfect, can’t I? *Changed some wording*
He looked at me with a smile in his eyes, like an afternoon orange soda full of refreshing taste.
MC: You said that…. I can’t refute it. 
Although I said that, I couldn’t help but laugh.
MC: But two people mixing the egg yolk batter together is always more interesting than doing it alone.
There was constant laughter on screen. I looked at Kiro who was always smiling on the screen and couldn’t help but lean into his arms.
His chin rested on my shoulder from behind and his warm breath brushed my neck.
It’s always a good time to need each other and be together. *Changed some wording*
MC: Next time, teach me how to make a mosquito net.
MC: Maybe in the future when we go on a trip, it will be useful.
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Kiro: Okay, let’s make a big and beautiful mosquito net. 
MC: Huh? Why does it have to be so big?
Kiro: It can be used as an open-air tent. If you watch the stars at night, you don’t have to worry about being bitten by bugs.
I couldn’t help being amused by Kiro’s serious tone.
MC: Okay, let’s do it together.
Time is moving slowly and quietly, walking forward with a lazy pace. The lazy rest is close to the not-so-perfect Kiro.
Put together a cupcake with a honey-flavoured centre. *Changed some wording*
[Chapter 5]
When I had walked halfway towards the company, I decided to pull out my phone and call Kiki.
MC: Kiki, there are some things on my end that I can’t get away from. You can help me with the people from the other company and change the meeting to a virtual one.
MC: The contract has been sorted out, I will send it to them later. You are responsible for monitoring the online meeting.
Kiki: Mhhm, okay. Sounds good, boss. 
After temporarily solving the company’s problems, I returned to Kiro’s house.
In order to avoid disturbing Kiro, who might still be asleep, I opened the door very quietly.
But when I entered through the door, I saw Kiro sitting cross-legged on the floor with his back facing me.
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Kiro: Cello, don’t move. 
A cat’s tail came out from his side, swinging back and forth uncomfortably, but was caught by Kiro in the next second.
Kiro: A few days ago, I didn’t play with you, which made you unhappy with me.
He was talking to himself, then sighed slightly.
Kiro: From now on I will play with you every day, but you are not allowed to bite your tail.
Kiro: If you bite your tail bald again, I will confiscate your dried fish!
Hearing what he said, I couldn’t help but laugh.
Kiro turned around when he heard the sound and when I saw Cello resting in his arms, I opened my eyes wide.
MC: You made a small flower for her bald spot.
A small flower made of pink wool is tied around Cello’s tail, which was probably taken from Kiro’s clothes. It covered most of the bald spot.
Kiro: Miss Chips, why are you back so soon?
Kiro was a little taken back, but because of my presence, there was an unconcealed smile in his eyes.
As I walked to Kiro’s side, I creased my eyes and opened my mouth.
MC: Because the witty Miss Chips changed the meeting to an online one, if it is synchronized with the time abroad, it will not start until the evening.
Kiro touched his chin thoughtfully.
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Kiro: In other words, before the meeting, you still have a lot of time alone with me. 
MC: You can think of it like that.
Suddenly I saw the familiar sly smile in his eyes. I was stunned for a second as I realized something and then took a step back cautiously.
Kiro smiled innocently and brilliantly.
Kiro: Miss Chips can’t run away, you came back to me by “getting caught” by my net. *Changed some wording*
In the next second, he hugged my waist and his presence hit me overwhelmingly.
Cello jumped to the ground, licked her paws, and curiously tilted her head to look at everything in front of her.
Kiro led me to the sofa where I sat in his arms, my heartbeat still a little fast.
Kiro chuckled.
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Kiro: Why does Miss Chips look like as if I’m going to do something bad?
His palm touched my bare back, arousing a shudder.
He looked down at me, but there was nothing else in his eyes other than like. 
I think of his unusual moments these past few days and my heart can’t help but feel moved.
The next second, I reached out and hooked my arms around Kiro’s neck. Kiro looked at me in a daze.
MC: Kiro, all the things that happen to you, I want to be the first person to share them with you.
I paused.
MC: Just as happiness and sadness are all the flavours of life we must experience;
MC: I want to be together in those bleak moments that must be experienced.
MC: Because--friction generates heat.
MC: So next time if you feel empty, let me stay with you.
MC: Let me fill your time.
Kiro’s eyes seemed to have a small sparkle of light in them after hearing my words.
After a while, I was pulled by Kiro and fell back into his arms.
Following his movements, my bag fell to the ground and a clear sound rang out. Kiro turned his head and glanced, leaning over and picking up a lipstick.
I reached out to take the lipstick, but Kiro grabbed my wrist.
He looked at me and suddenly put some on his lips slowly.
In the small and charming space, all his movements seemed to be slow and carefully planned, which made me suddenly think of the fragments I saw in the lens. 
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Kiro: While eating hot pot, Miss Chips said that she regretted not being able to see my exclusive performance. 
He paused for a moment and gave a grin.
Kiro: Well now you can.
He raised his hand and the hot red in his palm brushed my hair and then letting it fall onto my back, bringing the smell of spices.
It’s like a light kiss.
I stiffened for a moment, only to feel that the spot touched by him was burning like fire, making me want to get closer.
MC: Kiro….
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I muttered Kiro’s name softly. As if receiving some kind of response, he suddenly took my hand.
Then he lowered his head slightly and pressed his warm lips to my wrist.
Kiro: I’m here.
There was a warm touch from his skin and Kiro’s lips were still pressed against my wrist, but he lifted his eyes to look at me.
I blushed suddenly and wanted to lower my head and look away. The next second, I was firmly grasped with his other hand.
He held my hand and guided my fingertips past his lips.
His look was seductive, like a fairy falling into the world, unknowingly attracting me.
But perhaps, he knew it.
Kiro: Now I am sure that you have filled the most precious time in my world.
His blue eyes are as gentle as the sea and there is only a small me inside of them.
He looked at me and got closer, hot breath fell on the side of my neck accompanied by a soft voice.
Kiro: In fact, there have always been many temptations and difficulties on the way to becoming an actor.
Kiro: It’s a small boat called “Kiro”, sailing on the waves of the world. He often encounters danger, gets injured, and breaks.
The soft touch lingers from the side of my neck to my earlobe, and the breathy whispers fall on my ears very affectionately.
Kiro: But this one person, she found the boat on the boundless sea and repaired his damages.
Kiro: She then stayed on the boat and sailed the world with him to see glaciers and lakes.
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Kiro: This person is called Miss Chips, and she is-- the beacon that guides me through the world. 
His voice is like falling petals; quiet and soft with the ultimate sincerity. *Changed some wording*
Kiro: In the play, Kiro’s emotions belong to the stage.
Kiro: But Kiro outside the play, his world, everything about him belongs to you.
The scorching temperature left my neck and he looked at me earnestly with undisguised emotions in his eyes, like the surging ocean tides.
I couldn’t help but hug his neck back.
MC: Kiro, you made me the best Miss Chips in the world.
MC: Let’s go to farther places together, see glacial lakes, and sail the world together….
MC: Nothing can make me leave your side.
The sunflower grows enthusiastically and his golden hair is soft and brilliant. The world is flourishing and beautiful, just like himself.
If I were Kiro’s beacon for sailing the world, then let me be that tower that illuminates him.
Because-- he is also the most indispensable part of my world.
End
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andraaste · 3 years ago
Text
I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 17
This is finally chapter 17 ! I'm so sorry for the wait and hope you enjoy it !! Good summer to all of you 🌴🐉
Chapter 17 : I’ll personally take care of making him understand that you belong to me
- Ophelia !
I opened my eyes sharply.
Stretched out full length on the mattress, my back sticking unpleasantly to the fabric of my top, I stared at the black ceiling to come to my senses, my jerky breathing breaking the serene silence of the night.
What the hell was going on ?
My heart rate pounding wildly, I felt like I had run a marathon as my chest heaved with frenzy as the images of this incomprehensible dream circled in my head.
Spear.
It was him, I was sure. I had seen him, his face so young, evolving through different scenes from his past. Seeing him like that had confused me. Proud, playful, oblivious to his surroundings, he was a whole different person from the one I knew now. But ... I had also known him that way. Strange as it may sound, Lance had been my first support when I arrived at HQ. The rest of the story was unfortunately only inglorious.
Especially when I thought back to my buried feelings.
Except that this dream, was it really one ? The little girl had conjured up the deepest memories of the last of the dragons, but what did that mean ? And above all, why ?
My gaze was caught by something that seemed to escape my parted lips. My eyes widened, I watched in amazement as tiny ice crystals smeared the air around the edge of my mouth. When I realized what this implied, my breathing quickened again and very soon, I thought I recognized the light cold breath that the dragon had made me experience a few days earlier.
No, it wasn’t possible.
I shouldn't be able to develop Lance's powers without his presence ... right ?
Straightening up on my bed, I was leaning on my right arm when a strange sensation took hold of me. Slowly lifting my sleeve over my shoulder, I was speechless when I saw the dragon's familiar icy welts as he let them roam my body. Except that for that, we had always needed a physical contact, it was the very reason which had made us discover this phenomenon.
Fascinated, I let my fingers run over the thin blue lines that cornered my skin. I had the strange sensation of feeling him brush against my arm.
My hand immediately tightened on my flesh when something came back to me.
That night, when I had been in his memories, if that had really been the case, Lance and I had brushed against each other in the Crystal Room. By the time our arms had made contact, I was sure the young man had reacted, seeming to be looking for me without actually being able to see me.
But how could he have felt me ​​physically if what I had seen were memories, moreover of which I wasn’t a part ? Raising my arm to my face, I felt the adrenaline slow down. I had to leave these questions hanging.
At least until daybreak.
*
As soon as the sun shines, I got up to take a shower, hoping to chase away even a few moments the images of those dreams that had haunted me all the rest of the night. I finally didn’t manage to fall asleep again and it was with more than deep circles that I headed for the shared showers.
As soon as I left my room, I was surprised to find a very early-morning Nevra who was also visibly leaving his den, his door being a few meters away from mine.
When he saw me, the vampire raised his eyebrows in surprise before giving me a slight mocking smile.
- I know one who didn't sleep very well.
Great. I rubbed a hand over my tired eyes, hoping to regain my composure.
- Not so much, indeed. Is it showing that much ?
- Well, not that you look less in shape than usual, that would be complicated, but you seem rather tired yes, he said to me without being able to hold back a laugh at my annoyed expression. But you still look very pretty, don't worry.
Already ready to give him a bloody answer, his last sentence stopped me in my tracks. Damn but what an idiot, why did I feel my cheeks blush ?
Locking my door, I remained resolutely turned towards the wooden door in order to hide my dismay.
- I see that I can count on you to reassure me, in any case, I say while feigning indifference.
I heard his laughter echo between us once again.
- You know I'm a trustworthy person.
Without realizing it, I began to smile in turn. I loved the rare moments in which he forgot his cold mask of the right arm of the Sparkling.
- By the way ... he began, his gaze suddenly fleeing, seeming to hesitate on how he was going to phrase the rest. Have you been better since the other night ? I worried a lot, I didn't understand what happened. Eweleïn only told me that she already knew about it and that she was monitoring your condition closely.
- Oh, yes ... I'm so sorry for what happened and I hope I didn't cause you too much trouble. But I think I’ve nothing left. I wanted to thank you for taking care of me, I don't know what ...
- Don't talk nonsense, he cut me off. Maybe I was stupid to you, but I certainly wasn't going to leave you like this.
Running a hand through his hair, I saw concern grow on his face, so often marble.
- And I don't want to sound intrusive, but you'll have to explain to me what happened. I’ve never seen anything like it happen.
His eye, similar in color to mine, observed me so intently that I couldn't bring myself to lie to him.
- Okay, I'll explain it to you, I whispered. Just give me a little time.
- Good, he smiles at me before recovering quickly. With all this, I was almost going to fail in my task. Huang Hua would like you to attend the next Sparkling meeting.
I stared at him for several seconds, not knowing how to react.
- Huang Hua wants to send me on a mission ?
His lips twitched slightly.
- I can’t tell you more at the moment, but I don’t hide from you that it doesn’t enchant me very much considering what happened to you the last time we saw each other.
- Nevra…
I no longer knew on which foot to dance with him. Since our discussion, I had the impression that a lot of things had changed between us but I didn’t know how to perceive them.
- The meeting will take place in an hour in the Council room, don't be late.
The vampire dismissed me without giving me time to answer anything.
Excited at the prospect of potentially taking part in a future mission, I showered in fourth gear, almost forgetting what had happened that night. But it was the lump in my stomach that I knocked on the front door that I had only borrowed a few times.
Opening the door cautiously, I entered the majestic room. I could not restrain my gaze from browsing the large tree which stood proudly between these walls, the immense window which overlooked the gardens of the HQ or the immense prostrate table in the center of the room. I hadn’t often had the opportunity to enter here, but each time I was amazed by what was hiding there.
It was mind blowing.
It was only after my little inspection of the premises that I became aware of the people already here. Facing the large window, Huang Hua stood erect, arms crossed, staring into space. Her tanned skin bathed in natural light caught my gaze of admiration as her fine features turned to me as I reached the bottom of the stairs. Her warm gaze relaxed me immediately.
- Andraste, there you are ! she said to me with a smile of genuine astonishment. Unfortunately I haven't had the opportunity to see you lately, how are you ? I’ve been kept informed of your condition…
I stood stunned for a few seconds at the warmth and sincerity I could read in her at that moment. Since when hadn't I seen her like that ?
- It's going much better, thank you. If that's any reassurance, my back seems perfectly healed. Well, for now, I added with a wry laugh.
Until my wings decide once again to do what they want, I hear.
- You see me delighted, I hope we can discuss a little more calmly later, you and me.
Pointing me to the seats, she added :
- Please sit down.
Let my gaze slide over the people seated in front of the huge table. Surprisingly, I recognized Leiftan, Mathieu and Koori very close to me. I wasn't the only guest, which relieved me. I also like almost all of the Sparkling members.
All except two of them, who were visibly missing.
Pulling the first seat I could find, I settled myself between the kitsune and Chrome. The big wolf smile fills my whole field of vision.
- Hi Andraste! You're going to attend your first Sparkling reunion, I'm super happy, he said while pointing out his canines.
My smile widens automatically in the face of his good humor.
- Hi Chrome, I'm happy too ! But still a little stressed, I won't hide it from you.
- Don't worry, everything will be fine.
The large door opened again, letting in the two missing limbs. My heart raced even more when the two men sat down in front of me.
- Perfect. Lance, Nevra, we were just waiting for you to begin, Huang Hua announced. As you know, several strange phenomena have occurred in recent months, the barrier between Earth and Eldarya has never been thinner. Several people have reported to us the sudden appearance of a building in the middle of the lands of Genkaku.
Without understanding why, I felt Koori tense up at hearing that name.
- Andraste, Nevra told me about an important point.
The vampire spoke in turn.
- Seven years ago, you told me about very tall human buildings in which people lived or worked. Heum...
- Are you talking about buildings ? I stopped him. Are you saying that a building has appeared on Eldarya ?
I couldn't believe my ears, it wasn't possible. How could a building have landed here ? What if people were inside ?
Mathieu and I gave each other a horrified look. It really didn't bode well.
- Exactly, he concluded. Nothing like this has ever been reported between our two worlds but we have to make sure that it’s indeed a human building. That's why we would need Mathieu and you to go there. Obviously, you’ll be accompanied by other members of the Guard.
Turning to the kitsune, Nevra added :
- Koori, we’ll also need your presence. You’re the only one here who knows the lands of Genkaku.
- Yes, I understand. You can count on me...
The face of the leader of the Sparkling clouded with a compassionate expression.
- I'm sorry to ask you this, I know it won't be easy for you, but we can only count on your presence to guide them in these lands.
- I know Huang Hua. There’s no problem, I’ll accompany you.
- As far as Tenjin is concerned, we'll have to be careful, Lance continued. He’s bound to learn for our coming and we will probably not be welcome.
When the dragon spoke, everyone seemed to be listening to him with some form of respect. I was fascinated by the presence that saw him unconsciously.
It had been two days since the dragon and I had seen each other, the latter being too busy with the upcoming mission departure and his duties as Chief of the Guard. I hadn't had a chance to tell him about my dream, and actually didn't even know whether to tell him about it or not. Knowing him here made me nervous and hearing his voice made my stomach contract. The last time we saw each other was in his bed…
Red rose to my cheeks once again when his gaze brushed mine. I couldn't tear myself away from him for several seconds.
- Lance is right, Tenjin is our main obstacle to getting to the kitsune lands of Genkaku, the vampire said. He's unstable and is very likely to come after us when he sees Koori. That’s why I’m accompanying you as well. It’s rare that we send multiple Guard Chiefs, but this mission’s likely to be more perilous than the usual ones.
Turning to the aengel in his turn, he added, his face suddenly darker :
- I hope we can count on you. You are an outstanding navigator and your abilities have been proven to us more than once. Finally, if you want to stop your « redemption ».
Leiftan clenched his teeth at this last remark, the tension was most palpable between the two men.
- Nevra, we already talked about this. If you have things to settle with Leiftan, it’ll be within the framework of the private one, said Huang Hua.
- You can count on my presence, but I’ll not use my powers, it’s my only condition.
Nevra was about to reply when the fenghuang stopped him with a wave of her hand.
- Perfect, if everyone agrees, the team for this mission will therefore consist of Nevra, Lance, Koori, Mathieu, Leiftan and Andraste. An objection ?
- None, replied Huang Chu. I hope you’ll come back with some new human study topics, that's all I'm asking.
When the meeting is over, the assembly leaves the room in turn. As I was about to climb the stairs to the exit, the delicate and warm hand of the ancient phoenix grabbed my wrist.
- Andraste, can I talk to you for a moment ?
I nodded while stopping my run.
- Eweleïn kept me informed of your physical and mental state. Do you feel like doing this mission ?
- I think so. To tell the truth, I start to circle around the HQ aimlessly. It’ll do me good to feel really useful and to change horizons, even though I know it won't be easy and even dangerous. I’ve practiced a lot and I manage to reuse my powers a bit, not like before, but they are there. Perhaps, in case of real necessity, they will manifest themselves normally. At least I hope so.
A soft smile lit up her face.
- Very well, I count on you to take care of you and to come back to us safe and sound. Unfortunately, Mathieu and you are the only people able to tell us more about this building, I’ve no choice but to send you there with your agreement, of course.
Plunging into her reassuring gaze, I had the fleeting impression of finding the Huang Hua that I knew.
- There’s nothing to worry about. Anyway, I'll be well surrounded, I’ve nothing to fear, I said with a smile.
As I closed the door to the Council Chamber behind me, I lost myself in thoughts of this last exchange. Huang Hua confused me without knowing why. Lifting my head, I fell on Lance who seemed to have been waiting for me. With his arms crossed, he pulled himself away from the wall he was leaning against to walk slowly towards me.
- You're not going to be able to get to Genkaku like that.
Puzzled, I raised an eyebrow.
- Can you light my lantern ?
As he approached dangerously, my whole body tensed in anticipation of what he planned to do. I was no longer in control of myself in his presence and that irritated me.
Unexpectedly, he grabbed my arm firmly and turned me around to rest my back against his chest. His lips caressed my ear in his deep voice.
- You are not sufficiently trained in combat and you are far too pretty for Tenjin not to try to keep you to himself. I don’t like it.
- And how do you plan to fix it ? I questioned him, my breath suddenly more choppy.
- Since I can't force you to stay at the HQ, I think I'll have to train you for combat. I'm going to be pretty busy, but I'll find time for your training.
Slowly letting go of my arm, he added :
- For the rest, I’ll personally take care of making him understand that you belong to me.
(Chapter 18)
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willowbleedsonpaper · 3 years ago
Text
Winter In The Shade VIII
Part VIII
Sirius Black x Ravenclaw Reader
W.C. : 2793
Requested by @amourtentiaa : It is Sirius’ fifth year at Hogwarts, the same year he ran away from home and to the Potter’s. Soon, he discovers the unfamiliar sight of his brother Regulus smiling and looking truly happy, next to him a Ravenclaw girl who immediately captures his interest. What will happen when the Black family gets involved in their sons lives and the ones they hold close to their hearts?
Warnings: Food. Mentions of eating.
Want to know when I post the next part? Add yourself to my taglist!
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
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“You have all of your things?” you asked him, arms intertwined as you walked all the way to the train. It was a cold morning, your voice turning into a cloud of breath each time you muttered a word. Small snowflakes filled the air as some landed on top of your head and the reddish parts of your cheeks. Your eyes turned from Regulus to the top of your nose where one small flake settled, the only thing pulling you from the haze of the light snowfall being Regulus chuckle at your side. You pursed your lips in amusement as you blew some air, the little hairs falling out of your hat moving with the motion. “Stop.” you chuckled.
He shook his head, eyes glued to the front with his chin up all the time. It was impossible to get Regulus in nothing but perfection. Perfect posture. Perfect words. Perfect grades. Perfect imperfections.
“You keep getting those flakes off your face.” he laughed, his eyes sparkling as he glanced at you “Ten more will take their place.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, using your hand to shake the snowflakes off your face, scrunching your nose as shivers ran down your spine at the cold feeling of the snow melting against your skin “They get in my eyes.” you murmured, shaking your head in defeat “But don’t change the subject! Do you have all of your stuff?” you asked again, eyes falling to the small suitcase on his other hand “You're going for two weeks, you know?” you asked him incredulously.
He nodded his head in acknowledgement, not saying a word as you shrugged your shoulders, holding tightly to his arm as you both approached the train.
Few students were left near you, the small crowds there boarding all together as the train started to make more noise and the vapor in the sky clouded, the train announcing itself it was almost time to go.
You pulled Regulus' arm, stopping his steps a few feet from the door. He was standing right in front of you, lowering his suitcase to the floor as he placed his free hand over yours holding onto his arm. No words were exchanged as you both stared at each other, your eyes saying more than either of you could muster with words. But still, words were needed.
“Have fun.” you told him, your voice turning to your imitation of a mom voice, making him roll his eyes. “I mean it.” you said, pointing a finger at him “You will go home and be happy because it's christmas. You’ll enjoy it with your family, eat all the food you can, and get your presents.” you said with a smile. “Of course, the first few days you can be miserable because I’m not with you…”
“Right.” he scoffed, shaking his head.
“...even cry a little. I will be waiting for your tear stained letters.”
And then the silence fell between the two of you again. Were you supposed to feel that emotional? Was he feeling the same tightness in his chest? You felt your lower lip start to tremble, the hopeful thought that it was your imagination or the cold air disappearing as he tilted his head. His eyes were almost guilty as they followed every movement of your face.
“Y/N…” he started to say but you raised your hand to his chest, turning your face to the side as you used your sleeve to wipe the few tears that started to pool on your eyes.
“Don´t.” you laughed, voice raspy as you let out more breathy laughs “Merlin, turn around while I compose myself.” you told him, using your hand to push him away.
You should have known he already had a secure grasp on your wrist, your attempt to push away useless as he pulled towards him. It took you one word from him to wrap your arms around his chest, his arms holding you close to him as he rested his chin on top of your head, the light sounds of your crying only audible to him.
“You know I’m coming back, right?” he asked. There was no teasing in his voice, no joke, no attempt at humour. You nodded your head against his chest, tightening your hold on him. “It’s not even two weeks, I’ll be back before you even know it.”
“I know.” you said, slowly walking away from him. Holding your head low as you cleaned your face before you looked back at him.
Your eyes met his and the whole world stopped. You two were the only ones standing out in the cold morning. The voices faded, the images of everything surrounding you melted to simple colors without shape. You were sure when you died, your first request would see the exact moment Regulus Black became so important to you. You would give everything you had to see the moment where two souls connected on such a level your body aches from being away from him for just two weeks.
The whistle from the person gathering all the people meant to board the train pulled you out of your trance, making you turn your head in the direction of the sound.
Regulus took in the moment, your face turned from him as the distraction provided with the perfect moment. The hand that was not holding your reach to the inside pocket of his coat. A small package wrapped neatly with a small green bow on top laid on his hand as he waited for you to turn back to him, but it felt you were avoiding the sight of him, your side profile making the air get caught in his lungs as he could see the tears still streaming down your cheeks.
He called your name softly, the word barely a whisper that reached your ear in a plea. You purse your lips, a tight smile in its place as you turn to him, your eyes immediately falling to his hand and erasing any act from your face.
“We agreed on no presents.” you said, brow furrowed as you looked up to him “Remember?”
He had the ghost of a smile on his face as he offered you the small package “Don’t think of it as a present.” he said, watching the usual sparkle of your eyes return “An apology. For making you cry.”
Your shoulders fell back to their place as you relaxed your muscles, a side smile making its way to your lips as you took the present from his hand “I guess I can accept that.” You didn’t miss the satisfactory look on his face as you tugged the present under your arm, crossing your arms with an amused look “An Slytherin apologizing? Might ruin your evil reputation, don’t you think?”
The smirk on his lips grew as he watched the man blow on his whistle once more, the place deserted except for the two of you standing there with the confidence enough to mask the emotional goodbye that was unfolding “A Ravenclaw showing any sign of emotion?” he said back, licking his lips as his eyes returned to you “Someone might get the idea you actually have a heart.”
You bit back the laugh, shaking from the cold and the urge to burst out laughing “Go,” you pushed him softly, getting the suitcase in his hand as he walked to the door, you following close behind him “Before you find out how heartless I actually am.”
He boarded the train without another word, the smile never fading from his face. He didn’t dare to look out the window while the train started moving, he feared he might get one look at you and jumped out of the train before it was too late. He had matters to attend back at home.
“You're not boarding the train, miss?” asked the man, hand in the handle of the door as he entered the train.
You shook your head, smiling tightly at him as you took a step back, and another, and another. The train started to move, first slowly like it carried the heaviness of your wish for Regulus to stay and then more fluidly, realization settling deep inside of you as you accepted that even if you didn’t like it this was for the better.
*******
“Merry Christmas, Y/N!” cheered Félix as he saw you walking down the stairs of the common room, eyes still laced with sleep as you rubbed harshly there and your entire face. You only registered a pair of arms circling your middle with the strength of Christmas morning , making you place your arms instantly around the boy's head in some sort of hug.
“Merry Christmas Félix.” you said in your most cheerful tone, even if your voice was raspy he seemed satisfied, taking your hand and dragging you to the couches near the fireplace, the low fire offering enough warmth to make you sigh as you sat down “Got any presents?” you asked him after a big yawn he mimicked not one second later.
“Plenty.” he laughed, as his arms tried to pile up everything he got from under the tree. You raised your eyebrows in surprise as he kept piling up his present in front of you, his parents were definitely making it up for not celebrating Christmas with him.
You lowered yourself to the floor, sitting next to him “And do I have any presents?” you asked, knowing perfectly well the answer.
“Two.” said Félix, reaching his hand under the tree for you. He pulled the small package from Regulus and a bigger box with the writing from your parents sticking out on the note. You took them from his hands, smiling at him as he was basically shaking from excitement. Oh, to be so young on Christmas morning again. “Shall we?” you asked him. He didn’t bother with an answer, ripping the paper from the first box at reach, tuning you and the entire world from his perception. You chuckled softly, taking your own presents.
You were more curious about Regulus’ present, the agreement you two made clearly a joke that left you feeling guilty on the train station once you saw he got you something. He was supposed to honor your agreements.
Taking your time, seeing Félix still had a mountain of presents to open, you slowly unwrapped the paper, an old looking book showing itself under the dull brown paper. But you knew better, a smile forming on your lips as you took all the paper away. It might have looked like a book but you knew it was more, something you had seen once and had obsessed over.
“A box that looks like a book?” he asked you once you presented the idea to him, the look of disbelief in his eyes making you roll your eyes. “Why would you want that?”
“Have a little imagination, Black.” you scoffed, never losing your smile and excitement.
He shook his head and you jumped in front of him, making a show with your hands to try to act mysterious “A book that you can hide in plain sight. A box to hold your secrets.”
Smiling to the memory, you ran your finger over the lid. Moving the box in your hands to take a look at all of its faces, it was the last thing you did to open it. The smile on your face only grew, a picture of the two of you laying inside the box.
You didn’t know who took the picture, the frame showing you and Regulus in the library, sitting down on the table with the entirety of your books open before you. You had a wild look on your face, hands pointing to different books as your mouth moved at light speed, across from you Regulus holding his head on his hands with a confused look before he dropped his forehead to the table.
You laughed at the memory, closing the lid of the box and taking a look back at Félix “Let’s get breakfast.”
*******
To say the Great Hall was empty was a hopeful attempt to paint a more cheerful picture in your head. You doubted the entirety of the people sitting on the middle table of the Great Hall could fill an entire classroom, the students from all ages and houses gathered at the very front of the room, all bundled together to keep the cold at bay and have some company for the day. This was the first time you had stayed back at Hogwarts for the Holidays, not once imagining that it would be like this. They were all laughing, the cheerful sounds echoing from the empty walls of the room as their smiles reached their eyes. You always thought that the few students that stayed there would be all by themselves, at least that was what you were planning on doing, but seeing them all gathered together around the food, sharing their stories and exchanging small yet thoughtful presents, it warmed your heart and gave a more hopeful look into the next few days.
Félix jumped beside you, running the few last steps to the group as you followed. “Merry Christmas, Ravenclaws.” said one of the older Hufflepuffs, Peter.
“Merry Christmas.” you said, meeting eyes with everyone on the table as you sat down. You started to put food on your plate, sensing the quiet that fell over the group as you took your first bite. “Is something wrong?” you asked, seeing as everyone had their eyes on you, small giggles escaping their lips.
“You’re new.” said Peter with a smile, taking a sip from his mug as they all nodded in agreement “It’s usually the same people that stay at Hogwarts around this time.” Your face fell, looking down to Félix who was happily munching on a piece of fruit until his eyes met yours. “You stay here every year?” you asked him, the pit in your stomach growing as you remembered you were the only two Ravenclaws in the Castle.
He shrugged, taking another bite from his breakfast as everyone gave him a look. He sighed in defeat, dropping his fork “It’s not that bad.”
“It really isn’t.” added another girl, giving Félix a nudge in the arm “We have fun.”
“Still,” intervened Peter “This is your first time here. Why is that?”
You relaxed a little on your seat, spinning the fork in your hand “Didn’t feel like going home this year.” you lied, lowering your eyes. If they realized you were lying or not, they said nothing about it.
Breakfast took a peaceful and quiet time after your introduction, chatting away about everything and anything. It was when you all had finished that the place started to gather more energy, the fuzz of all the possibilities for the day started to become more tangible.
It was like the energy summoned them.
The loud whistles an shouts started to come even before they were inside the Great Hall, the doors bursting open with the full force of the four man running inside and jumping over the table, wands at hand pointed at the ceiling that impressively changes to the most pure color white, the cold air rapidly flowing over the cheeks of the cheering students at your sides, snow falling over the plates of forgotten food before them.
It wasn’t until they ran all the way to the group that you started to recognize them, the world slowing down before your eyes. The first one, passing right next to you with a grin on his face was Peter Pettigrew, he would sometimes wave at you around the halls after he helped you when you were just a lost first year looking for the charms classroom. Then, as if he just had gotten down from his broom after a successful Quidditch match, James Potter met your eyes briefly with a smirk, his eyes darting to his side as he pointed in your way with his head, Remus Lupin waving in your way before he got pushed from the back, your eyes quickly following the hands still close Remus’ back, following the pattern of the ridiculous ugly sweater he wore, his smirk melting into a soft smile as he faltered next to you.
Sirius’ eyes followed your form, making sure he was actually seeing you there and it was not another dream, but not even his head could come up with the smile that adorned your lips. He wasn’t that powerful.
“Merry Christmas, Y/n”
You considered him, the flutter of your heart giving you the answer straight away, the warm feeling inside your chest contradicting every single word you had spoken the days before.
“Merry Christmas, Sirius.”
Skittles
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maeve-writes · 3 years ago
Text
Beautiful Hell
Inspired by:  Beautiful Hell by ADNA 
Pairing: Bucky Barnes (tfatws) x Reader (experiment/mutant!Reader) Rating: 18+, Minors DNI Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk. Summary: Your past shows up in an unexpected way thanks to Bucky Barnes. You just wanted to be... normal, not caught up in the life of a hero or worse, and yet you’re drawn to him, addicted to him even. You thought that part of your life was over, but your relationship opens up a whole new chapter that you’re not sure you’re ready for. a/n: Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own and please forgive me. I have not written anything that wasn’t work related in about three years, so I’m a little rusty. This is just a dip of my toe back into the water. I’d like to continue this if there is any interest! Thanks for reading!
There’s very little that makes you upset these days. You have a great job, a cozy apartment, and wonderful friends. It’s taken a long time for you to find stability and even longer for you to accept that it was okay to have it. Most of that struggle was on your own, but you eventually found others like you that were dealing with the same inner turmoil and you’ve grown.
The group still meets twice a month, but now you run it. You see the same pain and anger in the eyes of strangers that you once held, you’ve been in their shoes and you want to help start their journey of healing and self discovery. You would never turn someone away who wanted help, who sought out the chance to better themselves, but six feet of muscle and adamantium shuffles into the recreation room of the local Boy’s and Girl’s Club, and you bend the already folded aluminum chair in half. 
The squeak of the metal catches his attention and his brow knits together. His eyes dance between your face, the chair, and back again. “Cheap material,” you say weakly with a lift of your shoulders. You watch as he puckers his lips in thought and his hands are shoved into his jacket. 
One of your regulars, Sarah, takes the chair from you and tries to right it once more, but finds it more difficult than you played it up to be. “Set up the rest, I’ve got this,” you tell her, happy to tear your attention away from the man. You reset the bars of the chair and unfold it, placing it on the floor to see if it will act as it should. It’s a little wonky, the bend leans it too far back, but it will hold you - it’s a chair.
You sit among the circle and begin. People sip their coffee and share their stories for the week. The new people introduce themselves, including him, but everyone already knows his name. He didn’t share this time, but you could tell he wanted to from the way his jaw clenched and the uncomfortable shifts in his sheet. You were like that once, you know just how he feels.
Two hours pass and the crowd slowly trickles out. You start the clean up, the putting away of the chairs. You move around the room and do your best to ignore his eyes burning into you - into your soul. “You could at least help clean,” you tell him without looking up from the sink against the far wall where you now stand. “Chairs still need to be put away.”
It takes a few beats, but you hear his heavy footsteps fall behind you and the eventual scrap of metal as the chairs are being folded. There’s a steady rhythm to his method, a clink of his metal arm against the chair, the screech as the chair is closed and his footfalls to the corner to put it away.
You finish your last coffee pot, drying your hands and turn to see the wonky chair in his hold. “Cheap material,” he repeats, looking down at it before he bends it back and forth. You see him trying to mold it back into better shape than you had earlier as your face grows hotter by the second. When he deems it “good enough,” he brings it over to join the others. “Who are you?”
“No one,” you reply instantly. 
His head snaps around, blue eyes burning, “You’re a horrible liar.”
“Not true,” you counter, “I’ve lied to myself for years.”
He turns to you fully and crosses his arms over his broad chest. He doesn’t find your attempt at what he thinks is a joke funny. “Who are you,” he asks again, his voice becoming clipped and impatient. 
You tell him your name, your full name but it does not ring any bells to him. It wouldn’t, not in a way he would realize. “You saved someone years ago, not as… you, but as,” you pause and wave the towel you used to dry your hands, “you know.” You try your best to ignore how his body tenses up and you continue, “You killed his wife and his unborn son. You changed him. Changed everything, really. Somehow, I got caught up in it all.”
His hardened stare quickly shifts into curiosity and you force yourself to look away before you crash into the stormy blue. “They pumped us full of all sorts of stuff. A lot of us didn’t make it. I can still hear the screams if I try.” You grind your teeth to make yourself stop falling into that abyss. “But my dad raised me by himself, he taught me how to survive, how to be strong. He always told me: Girl, if you’re gonna go down, go down swingin’. And I forced myself to keep going, no matter what they did, I wasn’t going to let those assholes get the best of me.”
The towel was back in both of your hands now, pulled and stretched as you tried not to think about the pain and the loneliness that followed. “But eventually I was freed, just like you freed that other guy. I got a chance to be him now… but I didn’t take it.” The terry cloth ripped in half and your arms fell by your sides. 
You dared to look up at the man and you inwardly swore. His face was so painfully beautiful, full lips were in a pout and his eyes twinkled blue in their sadness, in their empathy. “They wanted us to be something and I wasn’t going to let someone else define me. I ran for years, scared and alone. I had to change my life over and over because I didn’t want them to find me, then I realized I was actually doing what they wanted… I was being someone I’m not.”
You crossed the room to the trash can nearby and not too far behind he followed. The two of you began to toss half-eaten pastries and empty disposable coffee cups. “So, I settled down here, started to go by my real name and took any threat that came my way.” You watched him sniff at an uneaten danish, “Cherry, I think.” His shoulder lifts in a ‘what-the-hell’ kind of way and he takes a bite. “It took about two decades for them to stop,” you finish, “and I was able to finally start to live my life.”
He silently offers half of the danish to you, which you decline. “And when the world went to hell in a hand-basket, you what, sat here and lived your life?” The blow was meant to sting and it did. He didn’t know if you were gone in The Blip but from your recoil, he got his answer. “I don’t know what they did to you, but you obviously have the ability to help people, you should use it.”
“I do,” you reply, offended. “This,” you wave your hands around for the second that evening, “helps people. Just because I don’t strap on leather and beat up bad guys doesn’t mean I don’t make a difference.”
Bucky stills completely, even his breathing, and he looks down into the trash can he has been pushing around for you. It looks as though he wants to toss himself in it. “You’re right,” he says with a heavy exhale, “that wasn’t fair of me. It’s just… the world is running low on heroes, they’re now relying on a guy in a bird suit.”
“I thought that guy was your friend,” you ask with a tilt of your head.
When the corner of his mouth tips up into a boyish smile, you mirror it with a toothy grin because of how infectious it is. “Yeah,” he nods, “I guess he is. But I just hate being the only muscle.”
“You’re plenty enough for this hemisphere,” you laugh and reach out to pat his shoulder, when you feel the muscle packed there, you whistle through your teeth, “and maybe the other one, too.”
He laughs and rolls the shoulder you tapped, tossing off your hand playfully. “Yeah, well it wouldn’t hurt to have more because getting hurt hurts.” You two exchange smiles and finish trash detail. He ties up the full bag and prepares to bring it out while you work on putting a new one in the can. 
You lead him out back to the dumpsters and he tosses the bag in after you open the heavy metal lid. When it falls closed again with a loud, ringing bang, you pull out a pack of sanitizing wipes and offer him one which he gladly accepts. “This might not be the right time,” he begins, eyes drawn to the large, smelly trash bin next to the pair of you, “but would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”
“Who knew you were so romantic, Sergeant Barnes,” you tease to hide your fluttering heartbeat that he can undoubtedly hear. Under the pale yellow beam of the streetlights you can see the flush forming on his face that mirrors your own. “I’m free tomorrow around seven.”
Bucky straightens to his full height and his eyes sparkle brightly when that boyish curl makes its way back to his lips. “Then it’s a date,” he nods as you both pull out your phones to exchange numbers and you give him your address.
“Don’t be late,” you warn him, tone playfully serious, “I get angry if I don’t eat before eight. Bad things happen if I don’t eat.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he nods with a low rumbling chuckle, “I don’t plan to disappoint you.”
Your face splits into a smile and you lead your way back in, “See you tomorrow, Sergeant.”
“Tomorrow,” he says, his eyes trained on your every move. “And it can’t come soon enough,” he adds under his breath.
x
Your day goes by in a blur. Work is stressful but rewarding. Even though you love your job, your mind was not completely on it. Just past noon you received a text: Just seeing if this works. I’m looking forward to tonight. Have a good day. BB
It is unclear if he does not really know how texts work or if it is his excuse to send you one, but either way it makes you giddier than a schoolgirl. You reread it several times, answer a few work related calls and emails before you finally answer back: It works! I’m also looking forward to tonight. My day was good, but your text made it better. Hope yours is fantastic! xx
You are hesitant to hit send, but if you are going to shoot your shot, then you might as well go all in. Your phone doesn’t even go to sleep before you get another text in return: I’m about to see the prettiest gal in town, my day will be more than fantastic. How do you feel about sushi and bowling? BB
Of all of the things to do, especially together, you would not think of Bucky Barnes to pick that as your first night out together, but you had a weakness for sushi and your competitive side could never say no to a game or two: I haven’t been bowling in years, but I’m sure I can teach you a few things. xx
Oh, sweetheart, you’ll be learning a thing or two before the night is over. BB
You aren’t sure if you guys are talking about bowling anymore and that thought lights a fire in your belly. With a shaky breath you send your last reply: I’ll be happy to learn anything as long as I get to call you Professor Barnes and I can stay after class for extra credit. ;) xx 
It isn’t until two hours after your lunch that you get your last reply from him: Looking up that reference sent me to the part of the internet that I’m still not used to, but I’m glad I did. You don’t happen to have a skirt and some of those socks that go up to your knees, do you? Don’t answer that, I won’t be able to make it through dinner. See you at 7. BB
You did happen to have just what he asked for and it was tempting to wear it, but you tucked the idea into your pocket for another time. Instead, you picked something more appropriate for bowling, a pair of navy skinny fit cotton dress pants with enough stretch to not rip when you bent over to toss a ball, a curve hugging camisole that was draped by a soft, cream colored cashmere sweater. 
After messing with your hair for an hour, you settled for a messy bun and just finished your makeup when your doorbell rang. You call out to him to “hold on” as you shuffle through your apartment, trying to wriggle into your loafers on the way to open the door. “Sorry. Sorry, sorry,” you apologize as you pull open the door.
He’s standing in the doorway dressed in a canvas jacket over a plain black shirt, dark jeans over his long, thick legs and his normal boots top it off. “You look gorgeous,” he says, forcing you away from your lingering gaze as it continues to travel up and down his body like he’s the one for dinner. “These are for you,” he presents a bouquet of flowers with an unsure smile. “They’re beautiful,” you say wistfully, taking the flowers and stepping aside to let him in. “Thank you.” He nods and stands near the door as you finish putting on your shoes. “Let me put these in water and we can go.” “Take your time,” he says and trains his eyes on you. They follow you through the apartment, to the kitchen as you look through your cabinets for a vase. When you bend over, his head tilts ever so slightly which you can see out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to try and catch him, he just smiles innocently. “Need any help?”
“I’ll manage,” you laugh and eventually find a vase. The flowers are arranged not so elegantly into the glass, but you add water and place them in the center of your kitchen island. “Now, I’m starving and getting hangry.”
“Hangry,” he repeats. “That doesn’t sound good. I guess I should feed you before that happens.” He holds out an arm and like a magnet you are drawn to him and latch to it, maybe it’s because of the metal. Nevertheless, you walk arm and arm to the sushi hole-in-the-wall two blocks away, eating in a small booth in the corner to hide away from prying eyes.
You learn about Bucky Barnes for the first time. Like everyone else, you hear things from the news, from the internet, you try to shift through the lies and mess. But here you’re learning what he likes, what he’s learned, what he wants to learn. He doesn’t give his past up as freely as you did, it’s obvious he’s still coming to terms with it, but everyone travels at their own pace.
He learns about you, too. He asks you about things none of your past dates have asked. Hell, even your past boyfriends and girlfriends weren’t interested in half of the stuff Bucky manages to squeeze out of you. And you find it so easy to talk to him, so natural. You’ve only known him for two days, but it feels like decades.
Your hand slips into his when you leave the restaurant and head to the bowling alley. He laces your fingers together two blocks into your walk and you once again wrap your free hand around his arm. It pains you to move away when you have to go in and put on the bowling shoes.
“Before we begin,” he says to you as he watches you put your names into the computer, “let’s make a bet.” You finish entering the ‘y’ of his name and lift an inquisitive brow his way. “If you win, you can have one thing you would want from me.”
You twist in your seat and narrow your eyes, “And if you win?”
His tongue darts out to lick his lips, you watch it disappear with a pout, “I get a kiss.”
“You could just ask for one,” you laugh and slowly lean towards him.
Bucky, too, leans in and bumps noses with you, “Yeah, but it’s more fun if I work for it.” He sits back and winks, trying not to laugh at your deflated and deepening pout. “C’mon, sweetheart, you’re up first.”
You sigh heavily and pick up the bright green ball that you picked from the line waiting to be thrown. “Okay, if I win, then I get to wear that skirt and socks for you,” you say over your shoulder before you toss the ball down the lane. It rolls down the center and knocks down all ten pins as STRIKE flashes on the screen above you.
When you flop down in the chair next to him, he’s still staring at the spot where you stood moments before, gears still churning. “Hey,” you laugh, snapping your fingers in front of his face to knock him out of his daze, “are you okay?”
“Would it be wrong of me to lose on purpose,” he asks sheepishly. You roll your eyes and cross your arms and he lifts his own in surrender. “Okay, okay. I get it, that’s no fun. Just know, darlin’, I don’t go down without a fight.” He steps up and takes the same ball you used and chucks it halfway down the lane before it, too, knocks down all ten pins. He turns to you, a smirk plastered on his face.
As much as you loved to have fun, you loved to win more. “Is that how it’s going to be,” you asked, getting up to pass him on the way to take your turn.
He laughs, pressing close as you both slow when you come into each other’s orbit. “That’s how it’s going to be,” he nods and rakes over his lip with his teeth. A challenge is set and you don’t back down. Strikes and spares are thrown by the both of you in between lingering touches and whispered sweet nothings. 
In the hour you two have rented the lane, you managed two games and with one point over you, Bucky wins. He doesn’t claim his prize right there, it’s too public and there’s far too many people around. Instead, he offers to walk you home and you happily accept as long as you can wrap yourself around him once again, which you do.
You two try to take your time on the way back, enjoying the crisp evening air, but more so each other's company. The conversation from dinner continues as a flow of likes and dislikes between more sweet nothings. You’re lovedrunk by the time you’re at your front door and you don’t want the night to come to an end.
Reluctantly, you release him from your hold and he looks as disappointed as you feel. “Tonight has been wonder-” “I had such a great-” you both begin simultaneously and trail off together, ending in nervous laughter. 
“Thank you,” you tell him, leaning up to kiss his cheek, “for such an amazing night.”
“I should be thanking you,” he says, a hand timidly reaching out to rest on your hip. “I’ve been a little rusty at this kind of thing, but you made it easy.” His thumb traces the arc of your hip bone and you step closer to him. “But, you know, I might need some more practice.” You resisted to roll your eyes, but the laughter bubbles between the both of you. The distance closes by one of you, and you don’t care who, but you find your hands splayed across his chest, “I think I can help you out there.”
“That would be my second win of the night,” he grins down at you, his eyes trained on your lips.
“Speaking of my win,” he trails off. His flesh hand raises to your cheek and you instinctively lean into it. Your nose wrinkles at his chuckle but it doesn’t stop you from raising on your toes to close what little space there was between you.
You could sense his hesitation, the silent question of what was enough and what was too much. A small hum bubbled in your throat as you pushed your hands up his chest, nails scraping up his neck and into his hair. You could feel the shiver ripple throughout his body and his teeth came out to bite down on your bottom lip.
It was your turn to laugh now and he licked into your mouth in return, turning it into a whimpering moan. You could feel his triumphant smirk against your lips and you reward it with a tug of his hair. His hips instantly buck against you which throws you off balance, but he catches you with his metal arm winding around your back and pins you against him. 
Your tongues slip and slide against one another, the taste of his sushi and beer choice mixes with your own. Your nails once again claw along his scalp and cause him to growl into your mouth. He surges forward with you in his grip and crowds you against your door, reluctantly breaking away for air, “We should say goodnight,” Bucky whispered against your kiss swollen lips.
“You can tell me good morning when you wake up next to me tomorrow,” you shoot back and roll your hips against his, causing both of you to react with a strained moan.
“Are you sure,” he asks, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.
“I’ve got a spare toothbrush with your name on it,” you nod. You watch him debate the issue with himself before placing one last chaste kiss on your lips before losing his grip just enough to let you open the door.
You two stumble in, Bucky pulling you back to him, his mouth kissing along your jaw as you try to lock up for the night. You barely got the deadbolt turned when his teeth sank into your sink causing you to cry out. He instantly licks at apologetically and turns his attention to getting you undressed instead.
When your sweater is pulled over your head, you push off Bucky’s jacket, both falling to the floor near the door. Shoes are next to go, sloppily kicked off near each other and once again you two are drawn back together, tongues dancing. Your fingers twist into the short brown locks and his hands snaked down to your ass. He lightly cups each cheek, using them to bring you as close as possible, and even though your bodies leave very little room for air to pass through you still try to move closer.
“Bed,” he breathes into your mouth. You give him a quick nod. With a happy groan, he squeezes you by your bottom, picking you up to carry you to your room, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist. 
Your small one bedroom apartment isn't anything special, but it is yours and it has the biggest, comfiest bed that you are in love with. Bucky easily guides you both there, not once breaking your kiss aside from grunting or growling from your teasing hair pulls or the rolls of your hips. 
He climbs onto the mattress with you still wrapped around his upper half, crawling up to the pile of pillows near the headboard where he eventually lays you down. His weight settles above you, and normally, you would welcome it’s warmth and comfort, but at that moment, you want it to be rough and needy. “Bucky,” you whine, this time the one to break the kiss.
Flushed cheeks and blown pupils, he looks down at you, boxing you in with his arms on either side of your head. “What is it, sweetheart?”
“You’re wearing too much,” you tell him as you try to pull off his shirt, it makes it up to his shoulders before it stops. His laugh shakes his entire body and yours, which makes you pout in return. 
“You’re wearing the same amount, doll,” he reminds you, looking down to see your breasts sway in your camisole. “Far, far too much, in my opinion.”
You roll your eyes and playfully slap at his chest, “Then do something about it.” He mutters something about impatience and sits on his knees between your parted thighs as he pulls his shirt over his head to toss it aside.
“Your turn,” he nods to your shirt while he works on the buckle of his belt. You hastily pull the top over your head and work on your slacks, wriggling out of them just as does his own. He sits back on his hunches and looks you over, laying spread out in a matching white lace bra and underwear set. Now at he’s down to his boxer briefs, you can see how big he his, how hard he is, and when his wandering eyes rest on your covered sex, you can see it twitch with anticipation. “Holy shit, you’re beautiful.”
You didn’t think your entire body could blush from embarrassment, but Bucky just proved you could. “That’s my line,” you return, taking in every inch of his exposed skin over hard muscle. Super serum or not, Bucky Barnes was a gorgeous specimen. When you two finally lock eyes once more, you both shiver. “Are you going to touch me?”
He lets out a shaky breath and reaches out to run a hand lightly over your damp panties, slick from your want for him. “I’m afraid I’ll never stop,” he replies honestly, instantly addicted to the needy whimpers you are giving him.
“I don’t think I would want you to,” you groan. “Please?” You feel his fingertips dance over the lace, tracing over the pattern and causing you to throb with need. “Bucky!”
“You need me, don’t you,” he asks, voice dropping to a low rumble that hits you right at your core and makes your toes curl. “You need my touch. Need me to satisfy that ache?” You nod desperately trying to sit up to pull him down on top of you, but he pins you down before you could rise. “Tell me,” he purrs.
“I need you,” you respond instantly. You’re rewarded with his fingers pushing the panties aside and begin to dance along the slick folds.
“You need what,” he goads. He finds your clit and rubs it once to draw a happy mew from you but stops much to your disappointment.
“I need you, Bucky. I need you to touch me, to kiss me,” you whine with a rock of your hips, trying to get him to move again, but he doesn’t. “I need you to taste me, to lick me, to fuck me.”
Smile on his kiss bruised lips, his thumb swirls around your bud and he sinks his middle finger into you with a groan. “You’re tight,” he hisses as he sinks knuckle-deep, “and dripping. Shit, you’re going to feel like heaven.”
You can’t focus on what he’s saying too much. The feel of his fingers pumping in and out of you feels good, feels right, but it’s not enough, even when he adds two or three. He works you open, your slick starting to run down his fingers, and he palms himself over his briefs.  “Bucky, please,” your voice cracks, “I need more.”
He nods, he has time to take you apart with just his fingers later, but it’s been so long since he’s been with someone like this, someone he’s felt like this with, he needs it as much as you do. When he removes his fingers from you, you whine at the loss but it cuts off into a gasp as you watch him lap and suck off your slick from his hand. Bucky freezes, eyes narrowing, and for a moment you’re wondering if you did something wrong. “What? What is it?”
“Trying to stop myself from eating you alive,” he says through clenched teeth, jaw visibly flexing with the effort. You blink up at him, confused, but he shakes his head and forces himself to remove his boxer briefs. “I’m having you for breakfast,” he decides.
“Uh huh,” you reply absently, your mouth watering as his cock bounces against his stomach when it’s free. It’s long, thick, and leaking, trying to hypnotize you and very much succeeding. 
“I’ll let you return the favor, sweetheart,” he laughs. His flesh hand spreads his pre-cum down his shaft and he pumps slowly while his metal hand pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “Still with me?”
Blinking free of your daze, you stare at his lustful gaze and nod. He moves closer, hooks your legs over the bends of his elbows and runs the head of his cock along your folds. Your hole twitches desperately for him, “Such a pretty little pussy, so needy.” Your hands wrap around his wrists and grip at him tightly, hard enough to make him hiss. “You’ve been a good girl, I guess I can give you what you want.”
He pushes in agonizingly slow, the head of his cock sinking in what felt like centimeter by centimeter. You clench around him, trying to draw more of him in, but Bucky takes his time to bottom out. When he is finally fully seated in you, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and apparently so did he. “Fuck,” you say simultaneously. 
Your legs are positioned around his waist and he once again frames your head with his forearms, which, in turn, pushes him further inside of you. “You feel so good, doll,” he whispers against the ‘o’ of your lips. “So warm, so tight, taking me so good.” Your hands find their way up his arms and into his hair. All it takes is one tug that has him growling, “And I’m going to ruin this pretty pussy so good that it’s going to feel me all week.” He rolls his hips back as slowly as he originally pushed in, “And I wanna hear you tell everyone who it belongs to while I do it.”
He snaps his hips forward driving you up the bed and further into the pillows, a cry getting caught in your throat from it. His pace is brutal, skin slaps against skin, and his mouth seeks out yours. The kiss is sloppy, but hungry, just as primal as his pistoning hips. You hold on to him the best you can as the bed rocks, headboard slamming against the wall. Your nails trail against his skin, egging him on and drawing sinful noises from love-swollen lips. 
His hips shift angles and eventually find that spot that makes you see stars. “Bucky,” you cry out breathlessly, uncurling your toes and removing your nails from his shoulder blades. He buries his face in your neck and marks you with his teeth and tongue as he relentlessly fucks towards your brink. “So… f-fuck- so close.”
“Cum for me then, sweetheart,” Bucky growls against your skin, snaking a hand between your bodies to work at your clit. “Show me how good I make you feel. Cum for me.” His thumb rubs over your bud once, twice and a white hot punch in your gut blossoms throughout your body as you let out a strangled cry of his name. 
You can feel yourself clamp around him, working him impossibly deeper, begging him to fall down into the abyss with you. And he does, hard. He chases his bliss with you, your name a mantra spilling from his lips as he spills inside of you. He doesn’t stop until you’ve both become too sensitive to handle anymore. He pulls out of you with a heavy sigh and falls next to you on the bed onto his stomach. 
“Holy shit,” you finally break the silence, “that was…”
“Yeah,” he agrees, his head turned to look at you with tired, blissful eyes. “Goddamn, yeah it was.”
You weakly reach around to search for his hand and eventually find it, he lances his fingers with yours. You don’t break eye contact when he leans over to share a few chaste kisses before collapsing again. “You’re fantastic, Bucky, and I want you to know that was the hottest sex I have had to date.”
His post orgasm bliss is shattered and replaced with a furrowed brow, “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
“...but as hot as it is feeling you drip out of me, I need to shower,” you finish. You can see the relief wash over him and he nods in understanding. 
“I’ve got a good memory,” he yawns and taps at his head, “that image is stored right here.” You fight a blush and slide off of your bed to head to the bathroom when seconds later you hear him do the same. He shrugs at your questioning look, “No need to waste water, right?”
You laugh as you turn on the faucets only to be crowded against the wall and your mouth is covered with his once more. The water splashing against your bodies and the echoing sounds of your moans drown out the repeated calls to Bucky’s phone. Mission. Suit up. SW
Answer your damn phone. SW
It’s the green button. SW
Green button and slide right. SW
Dammit, if you blocked me again, I stg. SW
Man, what are you doing in Soho? Yes, I’m tracking you. OMW. SW
a/n: To be continued? 
78 notes · View notes
maxineswritingcenter · 3 years ago
Text
You Saved Me - Derek Halex fem!reader part 14
-------------
For the first time in a while, I woke up happy. Sure, the situation we were all in was no reason to be happy, but I would take waking up next to Derek over anything. In this moment anyway. 
Derek hummed in his sleep, nuzzling his face into my neck. I smiled, turning my head a little to press a kiss to his cheek. He opened his eyes that seemed to sparkle when he smiled. 
“Good morning.” He mumbled, pulling his arms away and sitting up. I turned on my back and pouted up at him. 
“Someone doesn’t like cuddling in the morning?” 
He got out of bed, getting dressed, “Any other day, yes. But I have something to do this morning.” He threw a shirt in my direction. I caught it, got out of bed and dressed myself. 
“I’ll remember that.” I took off my clothes that I had worn throughout the night and pulled on Derek’s shirt. It was soft cotton and it smelled like him. It was a little big so it would have to be tied with a ponytail holder. I looked over, seeing my jacket hanging up on the back of his door, “Mind tossing me my jacket?” He grabbed it off the door and tossed it my way. As it flew through the air, an envelope fell on the floor. Derek stared at the envelope and picked it up, looking it over. 
“Oh my god, I completely forgot about that.” I took the envelope from his hands. It had some water damage but the words were still readable on the outside. 
“The Lunar Circle?” His jaw clenched. 
“Yeah, do you know anything about this?” I asked, opening it up. 
“Your parents were a part of it.” 
“Really?” I grinned, opening up the very official looking letter. 
To (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), 
We send our condolences in the matter of your parents passing, all of us here at the Lunar Circle cherished your family and we think of them fondly. 
As two of our founding members, your parents were meant to travel to our facility to discuss relations between them and the clan of hunters in your area, the Argents. Since they have passed, this duty falls to you - the sole survivor of your clan. 
We will have a messenger arrive soon to bring you to Shetland, in the northern Isles of Scotland. Please pack warm. 
We look forward to meeting you, 
Sincerely, 
Praetor Lachlan McLeod
I read the letter aloud, Derek was becoming more and more stern. 
“I mean, it seems like they want me to go whether I like it or not. But I think they would be able to take the rest of the spell away so I could remember.” I smiled and looked up. The smile dropped, “But you don’t seem as enthusiastic as I do.” 
“Only werewolves who get invited can go. I can’t go with you.” 
"I mean, they probably wouldn't care. You're my partner."
“That’s not the point.” He walked back to his dresser, grabbing his leather jacket that he had draped there. 
“Then what is the point, Derek?” He didn’t answer, walking out the door and into the hallway. 
“Hey, I’m talking to you.” I called, storming after him. 
He stopped abruptly in the hall and turned around, “The point is that I can’t be there with you. I can’t stop any of those people from taking you away from me.”
“Are you insinuating that I would cheat on you?” I glared.
“No.” His face softened, “But they could use the spell against you. A condition that they could have would be to break our bond so you can get your memories back.” He held my face in his hands, making me look up into his eyes, “I want you to remember, but I want to be there for it.” 
“You said I’m stubborn. Maybe I could convince whoever is going to show up that I need you to come with me.” I smiled, “I’m gonna go home and look through some of the stuff from my house.” 
“I’ll call you after I get done here.” He kissed my nose. 
“And what are you doing?” 
“Erica’s getting Jackson so we can test if he’s the kanima.” He started walking again. 
“Uh and what if he is?” I asked nervously, “Listen, I am all for killing him on a good day but you can’t kill him. There has to be a cure.” 
“And if there isn’t?” 
Rubbing my temples, I thought for a moment. Pros: - No more kanima...No more Jackson... Con: Prison for Derek. Regardless of morals, the kanima was dangerous to everyone. 
“Make it look like an accident.” 
As I made my way out of the depot, Erica was walking in, dragging Jackson by his bicep. 
“Erica.” I nodded, smiling brightly. 
“(Y/N).” She smiled back. It seemed like after the kanima attack there was a silent understanding between the two of us.
“Wait!” Jackson called, trying to get out of her grasp, “Wait! (Y/N)!” There was a sick part of me that was going to think about his calling to me for help later and smile. 
-
It was late morning when I got home. Stiles had given me hell through text but that was just how he showed his love. The next thing was to stop staring at the cardboard boxes that held the remaining pieces of my life that had been stashed in my closet. Out of sight, out of mind since I really wanted to distance myself from the memory of my parents death and all of the fact that my parents had unfairly taken memories of my life away. I understand that they did it to protect our family, but at the end of the day... that didn’t seem to make much of a difference. 
Time to bite the bullet. I kneeled down in front of the closet and pulled out the box labeled: (Y/L/N) Evidence #24. I looked over my shoulder to make sure the door was closed, then grew a claw on my pointer finger to cut the tape on the box. Was that lazy? Of course, but I think anyone in my position would. I took a deep breath and opened the box. I wish that I was hit with a wave of nostalgia, the smells of home, but all I could smell was smoke. 
I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the sides of the box, “Come on, don’t cry.” I sniffled, trying to keep the tears at bay. Blowing out air, I opened my eyes again. Inside the box were photo albums. I took out the one I recognized most, it was a dark teal color with our last name in gold cursive font. I traced the letters fondly. Opening it up, I saw pictures with my parents from when they bought this house, bringing me home from the hospital, pictures of my parents and Stiles’ hanging out. They all looked so happy, they were laughing and having fun. I lightly touched Aunt Claudia’s smiling face. It was still hard to believe that she was gone, but she was sick... She couldn’t live like that any longer. I flipped through the book, watching Stiles and I grow up. Birthdays, slumber parties. Slowly Scott popped up in the pictures until we became a trio. But Stiles and I were always together. Which made me wonder how much of my life was missing if he was the only friend I could remember. 
The rest of the box was documents that had been found in the safe in the basement. It was a miracle that had found the safe since it had been hidden in the wall. Deeds, marriage license, birth certificates, social security. In the next box, there were some of my baby things. But this box has become more interesting. Family heirlooms that I had only seen once when they were being cleaned. At the bottom of the box was a wooden box that I definitely didn’t remember. 
“Jack pot.” I smiled and lifted it out of the box. It was a dark stained wooden box with intricate vines and flowers decorating the borders. There was a stamp burned into the top. My last initial in a full moon, stars randomly placed around it. 
I opened the clasp, lifting the lid open carefully. There was a glass bottle, sealed with teal wax. The neck of the bottle was wrapped in twine with a bronze charm, on the charm was a wolf. It was filled with dried herbs and what looked to be a lock of hair, my hair. I set the bottle aside, wanting to bring it to Deaton to figure out what was inside. But I was fairly certain this was the spell jar that took my memories away. The next thing inside that I pulled out was a scroll, sealed with the same teal wax and this time the crest was more visible, it was the same crest as on the box. 
I carefully removed the wax from the paper to not break the seal, unrolling the papers. The larger of the two was a family tree, more family that I could even imagine that I had, going back ten generations. But the tree got smaller and smaller until I was the last branch. I am the last member of my family. That made me feel more alone than before. 
The next paper was more recent looking and it was addressed to me. 
𝘛𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳, (𝘠/𝘕).
𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘰, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘶𝘱, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩.
𝘞𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯. 𝘞𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘞𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴.
𝘉𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 - 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴. 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘞𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘴. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦,
𝘔𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘢𝘥
I wiped my eyes with my sleeve, making sure my tears didn’t smug the ink on the page. They acknowledged that they did wrong and they were planning on reversing the spell. And seeing my mother’s handwriting again? The best. 
In the bottom of the wooden box was a white package that had been faded yellow. The package was labeled with the name of the local pharmacy where you could also get photos developed. I took out the thick stack of photos and gasped. Christmas morning when I was twelve, I was looking up into the camera but my face was hidden by the glare coming from my eyes. Another picture had me with a wrist brace on, a thumbs up and a smile. Then the next pictures lifted my spirits. It was pictures of Derek and I. From the time we were toddlers until six years ago. Smiling, laughing. Some where he was in his basketball uniform, others when I was in my lacrosse gear. It seemed like Derek was just as much a part of my life as Stiles was. There were pictures of me with Laura Hale, we were on the floor cross legged while she sat behind me, braiding my hair. There was another where I was holding a little toddler on my lap, who I could only assume was Cora. There were even baby pictures of me with this woman I couldn’t recognize...but something told me that it was Derek’s mother Talia. Wait, Talia Hale. I never knew that name before. I was starting to remember. But it wasn’t enough. I needed to remember more. 
But these pictures were important to what I needed. I slipped them back into the package and grabbed the vial, putting them in my bag. 
I started walking down the stairs, feeling happier than this morning, but it all went away when Stiles’ text message. The first was a picture of Lydia at the front of Finstock’s class with someone help me written on the board from an hour ago. The next was a message that had come over that minute.
Stiles:
Isaac and Erica are testing Lydia to see if she’s the kanima... And I think she failed. 
I got downstairs and was stopped by Uncle Noah in the kitchen, his arms were crossed over his chest. I was definitely in trouble. 
“Hi, Uncle Noah-”
“Where have you been?” Straight to the point. 
“Busy. With work and stuff.” My lying was not getting better. I tried to walk past him but he called my name. 
“(Y/N)” I stopped, slowly turning around, “I know you’re an adult, but I promised your mom and dad that if anything happened to them that I would protect you. I mean, you’re gone all day and all night. I get vague text messages after hours.” 
“I’ve just been busy with work, that’s all. Believe it or not, Coach puts in long hours-”
“Now, why am I having trouble believing you?” He looked up at the ceiling as if the answer was written there.
Probably because I’m lying, I’m actually a werewolf, one of many in this town and we’re fighting a teenage mutant murder lizard that may or may not be Lydia, you know Lydia, the girl Stiles was in love with?
“I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve been working long hours on four murder cases and overworking your brain.”
“Is this about that Lunar Circle thing you got in the mail? What is that thing anyway?” 
I sighed, “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. If it were nothing, you would say that it’s junk.” 
I sighed, “It’s a group my parents were a part of and they want me to go there.” 
“To Scotland? No way.” He shook his head. 
“What? You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do. I’m an adult.” 
“You are apart of an open murder investigation where the murderer is still at large. I can’t in good conscience let you leave the state, let alone the country.”
“That’s not your decision to make.” I glared, “I am a legal adult, I am not a suspect, I can leave whenever I want.” 
“Not true. As a part of the agreement with your parents, if they were to be killed, I am to be your guardian for six months, no matter how old you are.” 
I pulled at my hair in frustration, “That’s ridiculous!”
“Call it what it may, but that’s what your parents wanted.” 
“Screw what they wanted!” I snapped, “They took everything from me!”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” He barked back.  I sighed in frustration, grabbing my keys off the counter and storming towards the door. 
“Hey! We’re not done talking!” I kept going, “(Y/F/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), you get back here!” 
I opened the door and looked back, “YOU’RE NOT MY DAD! STOP ACTING LIKE IT!” I slammed the door shut and hurriedly got into my car. I gripped the steering wheel hard, the plastic cracking against my palms. I shouted into the wheel, breathing hard to make sure I didn’t turn in the car. After a few minutes and a lot of breathing, the anger turned to guilt. Uncle Noah was just trying to make sure I was safe and what I said wasn’t fair. He treated me like his own and I should appreciate that more. I’m just relieved I didn’t see the look on his face when I shouted at him, I’m sure I would never be able to get his face out of my head. 
My cell phone ringing brought me out of my thoughts, I pressed answer and held the phone to my ear. 
“What do you want?” I snapped.
“(Y/N)?” 
“Jackson?” My eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. 
“Duh.” He said in his usual douchey way. Just my luck, the last person I wanted to talk to was calling me. 
“What do you want, trust fund?” I put the phone on speaker and started driving. 
“Look, we need your help. We need you to distract Derek.”
“No problem.” I hung up the phone, driving the short drive it took to get to the depot.
-
I leaned against the doorway leading into the depot, grabbing Derek’s jacket as he walked out.
“Where ya goin’, Der?” He looked back at me, backing up. 
“I was on my way to see you.” 
I smiled, “How coinvent. I just got into a huge fight with my Uncle which I’m sure you felt and I found pictures of us together that I wanted to show you.” I held up the package of photos. 
We had gone back inside the depot, sitting on his mattress. Derek turned the bottle in his hands to get a look at all the herbs inside, “I can see monkshood, mistletoe, salt. Not sure what the rest is.” He handed the bottle back to me. I filled his empty hand with the package of pictures. He took out the stack. He stared at the pictures for a long time, almost like he was memorizing them.
“I lost all my copies of these photos in the fire.” He smiled as he looked through them, “Did you remember anything?” 
“Just one thing.” I handed him the photo and his mother holding me, “I remembered her name, Talia.” He stared at the photo, his face changing. 
“She’s so young here.” He whispered. I rested my head on his shoulder, looking at the photo. She was smiling at me in an exaggerated way, her dark hair tucked behind her ear. She was so beautiful. Derek looked over at me, then out the window. He set the photos down slowly and stood up. Shit.
“You were sent here to distract me, weren’t you?” He stared down accusingly. He felt betrayed, a feeling I didn’t like giving him. 
“I came here to show you the pictures.” I stood up to face him. 
“That may have been what you wanted to do originally, but on your way here they told you to distract me so I couldn’t kill that monster.” He gritted his teeth, moving towards the door at a determined pace. I caught up to him and grabbed his arm. 
“Derek, it’s not Lydia!” 
“How do you know that?” He spun around, his gaze was menacing, but he didn’t scare me anymore, “She failed the test, the kanima venom didn’t affect her. It has to be her.” He slammed the door of the depot open, walking out into the night with me hot on his heels. 
“And what if it’s something else? You told Scott to trust his instincts and I trust mine, it’s not Lydia.” 
“I’m doing this to keep you safe, keep them all safe. Isn’t that what you want?” There was a growl in his voice. I stopped following him, opting to get into my car and speed to Scott’s house. 
I pounded on the front door when I got there, praying that they hadn’t completely padlocked the door yet. Stiles opened the door and pulled me inside, slamming the door shut behind me. 
“I thought you were distracting Derek.” He whispered. 
“I was. He saw through it.” I whispered back. Stiles looked out the window, a grim look on his face. I looked out the opposite window and saw Derek standing outside, with Boyd, Erica and Isaac behind him. I looked back and saw Allison standing in the hall. 
“You need to tell Scott to get here right now.” I looked back on the window, reaching over and touching Stiles’ shoulder. 
“It’s me. You need to get here right now.” 
-
Allison was staring down at her phone, her other hand occupied with a small crossbow. 
“What are you doing?” Stiles asked. 
“I think...” She paused, “I think I have to call my dad.”
“Are you nuts?” I asked. I mean, what could the pack outside do without drawing the attention of the police, not much. Derek wouldn’t go that far... Or at least I hoped he wouldn’t. 
“But if he finds you here, you and Scott-” 
“I know.” She cut Stiles off, clearly frustrated, “But what are we supposed to do? They’re not here to scare us, they’re here to kill Lydia.” She said the last part a little quieter. Jackson and Lydia were upstairs doing... whatever it is exs did. I wouldn’t know, my ex was dead haha.... I wish there was therapy for people like me. Were there werewolf therapists? 
After staring at the pack for a while, Stiles spoke up. 
“I have an idea. Shoot one of ‘em.” Allison and I looked at him.
“Are you serious?” She asked. 
“Stiles, if they get in, I’ll handle it.” I said, not really believing myself. 
“You can’t take a whole pack by yourself. That’s literally impossible. I think.” He said, “We told Scott we could protect ourselves, so let's do it! Or at least give it a shot, right?” 
“Okay.” She sighed. 
“No, not okay, have you ever heard about how you’re not supposed to poke the sleeping bear. Shooting one of them would be like-like whacking a sleeping bear with a baseball bat.” I said, very not okay with the plan. 
"They don't think we're gonna fight, one of them gets hit, guarantee you they'll take off. So just shoot one of them."  Stiles said. In theory, yes. In practice, probably not. 
She peeked out the window, "Which one?" 
 "Ummm...Derek. Yeah, shoot him. Preferably in the head." 
“Stiles, are you trying to kill me?” I shoved him, having to pull my arm so I didn’t use my full strength. He yelped, holding his arm. 
"If Scott's able to catch an arrow, Derek definitely can." Allison said, looking out the window.
"Okay, um, just shoot one of the other three then." 
"You mean two." Stiles and I stared at her like she had three heads. 
"I mean three." Stiles said. We smushed our cheeks together to look out the window at the same time. Isaac was missing. 
“...Where the Hell is Isaac?" Stiles asked, looking around. Isaac had left his position besides Derek, probably when we were trying to figure out a plan. 
“I’m gonna go protect Lydia.” I backed away from the door and ran upstairs, I got into the room right as I heard the crashing downstairs. Isaac had gotten in. 
“Why are you here?” Lydia said, she breathing was quick and she was on the verge of a panic attack. 
“Me?” I looked around, “Where the hell is Jackson?” I saw Scott’s open window. That slim ball ran at the first sign of danger. I grabbed her hand, pulling her into the bathroom. I closed the door quickly and locked it. 
“What’s going on?” She whispered, tears falling down her face. 
“Someone’s breaking in.” I lied, “Just stay quiet.” I put a finger to my lips. I could hear growling and shouting, a body being slamming into the door hard. I pressed my body against the door, hoping my body could keep it there. 
“Hi-hi- I need the police.” I looked down, seeing Lydia on the phone with the cops. I groaned under my breath, blocking out her phone call to try and listen to what was going on outside. 
“Stiles! It’s here!” I heard Allison shout. My eyes widened. The kanima. It was here, it wasn’t Lydia. I backed away from the door and started to unlock it. 
“What are you doing?!” She shouted. I held out my hand.
“I’m gonna keep you safe. You have to trust me.” She stared at my hand, “Look, Stiles trusts me. And I know somewhere inside of your cold exterior you know Stiles would never let you get hurt. So if you don’t trust me, trust Stiles.” She stared a moment longer before taking my hand and pulling herself up. 
“You will not mention this to him.” She huffed. 
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I opened the door, leading Lydia through the house and out the front door. And when we got outside, I stared at all of them in confusion. 
Isaac and Erica were both on the ground, Derek, Boyd, Scott, Allison, and Stiles were staring at the roof as police sirens were getting closer. 
“Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on?!” Lydia shouted. 
"It's Jackson." Scott whispered. I stepped off the porch and looked at the roof, the kanima was on the roof, slithering just out of sight. 
--------------
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fromthehellmouth · 4 years ago
Text
Red, Hot Skin
Word Count: 4.8k
A/N: mentions of a hot-water burn, fluff, a bit of minor tension
Drawing by me inspired by scenes from the story. I hope you enjoy! Feedback is greatly appreciated!
Overview: 
Tension ensues after you and Tom Riddle both attempt to retain your dignity following foolish mistakes. Tom risks breaking curfew to make up for a painful mistake of his.
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Tom Riddle stood next to me at the workspace counter in the dim light of the potions classroom. His large pale hands planted firmly on the black counter, his sleeves rolled up below the elbow to reveal his toned forearms twisting slightly as I added the next ingredient to my simmering brew. It was part one of a group test where professor Slughorn would choose one student of a pair to perform the completion of a potion in front of the class. It was a way to test one’s ability to trust their partner, and would assure that both students equally understood the directions of the potion if they happened to be the one called to demonstrate. Professor Slughorn watched intently with a clipboard as I sprinkled the fine dust from my cupped palm into the cauldron. Reaching for the last of the peppermint sprigs, I extended my arm over the bubbling mixture when suddenly, Riddle aggressively grabbed my wrist.
“No!” he exclaimed, but it was too late, the thin leaf had fallen from my grasp into the boiling pot below. Slughorn jotted something on his parchment and looked at me, worry sinking into the lines of his face.
“Now you’ve done it.” Riddle all but growled next to me, taking a step back from the table in dismay. The mixture erupted and thick, red, oozing sludge sprayed from the cauldron, spilling over the pewter rims and onto the work table below. In my embarrassment I stood completely frozen, unable to scoop up the mixture with my hands because of the burns I would face as a result of touching the corrosive slime. So, I just stood helplessly, my eyes fixed on the mess before me.
“Oh dear,” Slughorn muttered, waving his wand and collecting the crimson sludge in a suspended bubble, eventually letting it plop back into the confines of the abused bowl. Slughorn scratched something else on the parchment in his hands and turned sympathetically to me with a soft expression. To my right I felt Riddle’s gaze boring into my face. I could sense the vast disappointment emanating from his glare and I had to force my attention on Slughorn to keep myself from glancing at his clenched fists.
As the students began to trickle from the classroom, I took my time in order to leave a comment with professor Slughorn about my performance for the day. I felt Riddle’s eyes on the back of my neck as he left the room and I was soon alone with Slughorn.
“I’m so sorry professor, I don’t know how the process could have slipped my mind.”
“The potion could have been botched by any student, but for next time I suggest you focus more on the ‘claims and cautions’ portion of the lessons, alright?”
I knew the words held little weight. It was a brew I should have mastered, and demonstrating my incompetence to the class was quite the blow to my psyche.
“Alright, thank you for the advice professor.” He nodded, and we exited the room together. Slughorn turned around, “I will see you next lesson--Oh, and Mr. Riddle, you as well.” Slughorn walked away and I turned around to see Riddle waiting outside the classroom, his eyes in shadow under his defined brows. “Why are you still--” but I was cut off, Riddle cornered me into the wall, glaring at me with piercing eyes. Startled, I felt hot under his gaze, my cheeks blushing bright pink, and my breathing faltered as I felt the pressure radiating from his eyes.  “No one spoils my reputation like that, do you hear me?” I nodded, looking at the floor. “Now, go study for the next demonstration.”
***
The next morning I was determined to memorize the next brew by heart, and I decided to get up early and visit the library before breakfast. The hazy purple dawn glowed through the beautiful gothic windows of the library, and streams of sparkling rays danced on the crimson-carpeted floor. There were rarely students in the library so early in the morning, and I was able to swiftly collect the edition of “Deadly Draughts and Elixirs” Slughorn no longer provided in his classroom. Swiping to the chapter on “Uses for Peppermint,” I pulled out my crisp parchment paper and began taking notes on Slughorn’s suggested reading.  
***
As students began to slowly appear at nearby study tables I quickly checked the clock, realizing I had completely skipped breakfast and charms was to start in 5 minutes. My heart racing, I quickly gathered my notes and my textbook, all but shoving them into my suddenly-very-small bookbag, and practically running out of the library. Professor Flitwick’s classroom being located on the third floor meant it took at least 7-8 minutes to reach--considering the staircases cooperated and no dreadfully slow first-years were infuriatingly placed in front of me at every turn. Practically sprinting, I exited the library’s massive entrance only to feel a sudden whoosh of air and a loud thud as I slammed into a tall firm body, and steaming hot tea splashed all over my chest. I let out a shriek of pain as the boiling liquid seared into my skin. I felt my eyes automatically welling with panicking tears--my breath coming out in shallow pants, and every nerve in my body tightened. The tears overcoming my stiff face and trickled down my hot cheeks, I pathetically glanced up to see who had collided with me. 
Tom Riddle stood before me, mouth gaping, aquamarine eyes timidly glowing with fear and confusion. Immediately thrusting his hand into my shirt, he pulled the stained fabric sticking to my skin toward himself, allowing for a brief moment of alleviated pain as the cool air filtered through my blouse. 
“I--” A single syllable escaped his lips before Madam Pince rushed from her desk to tend to my abrupt scream just moments before.
“What in Merlin’s name!” Pince cried out, gaping at my shell shocked expression, and noticing my frozen exterior she wrapped her arm around my shoulder, tightly gripping to my arm, and swinging me from the view of the boy who had spilled his morning tea into my tender skin. 
“We’re getting you to Poppy right this minute, Salazar!” The last part she whispered under her breath as she firmly guided me to the hospital wing where Pince exchanged my paralyzed body to Madam Pomfrey’s care. Submitting to the matron’s grasp, I realized I would be missing my charms lecture entirely. 
***
After the incident Madam Pomfrey guided me to a private bed where she told me to unbutton my top and drink a glass which she handed to me filled with a sloshing green liquid. She then applied a deep vermilion healing paste to my tender skin, her soft aged hands gently spread the cooling cream across my chest. Handing me a little black jar with the same red paste, she smiled gently.
“Apply this thickly every night, and whenever you feel the skin is unusually hot. Come back and see me in two days, alright dearie? If it starts to hurt badly you may most definitely see me sooner.”
I nodded, gently clutching the black jar in my hands as the paste slowly absorped into my skin revealing the red and irritated burn underneath.
“Now off to your next class.”
My bookbag hung heavy on my shoulder as I walked toward the exit of the hospital wing. I swung my bag in front of me to place the small black jar inside, and as I stepped outside I was met with the tall statuesque figure of Tom. His pristine uniform tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders, his shoes sleek black leather, his tie lay cleanly against his fitted white top. His hands were in his pockets, and he looked down at me with his eyes, not his face, so I could see the underside of his chin and the base of his defined jaw.
“I’m sorry, what business do you have by the hospital wing?” I muttered, looking away from his penetrating gaze.
“I have been waiting for you.” Emotionless. Smooth. Thick like the paste Pomfrey spread across my chest.
“And what is it that I can help you with, Riddle?” My voice was stern, my eye darting to meet his, my tongue running along the inside of my lips to keep my voice from exposing my irritation.
“I would like to offer my assistance for Slughorn’s partnered test.”
“We’re not allowed to help one another during the test, you know this.”
“Not during, before.” He finally lowered his face finally, so there could be a line connecting the angles of our jaws.
“You want to study with me?” My eyes narrowed. Yesterday the boy harshly told me to study by myself in the hopes of preserving is already pristine reputation. 
“You need my help, and...” 
“And what.”
“And I may owe you a new blouse.” He said smoothly, gazing at my brown-stained top where his cup had collided below my collarbone and above my breasts. I realized the top button was unhinged, partially exposing my sensitive pink skin. Quickly buttoning the little ivory disk and returning the eye contact, we were silent for a moment, and he took a step closer to me. 
“You will accept my offer.” 
“No I will not.” My lips pursed, and I crossed my arms, his sea-green eyes flickered with defiance, his eyebrows slightly furrowing to my nonchalant response. 
“I don’t think you understand the situation.”
“I understand the situation perfectly, Riddle. I don’t need your assistance for the test. I... I have someone else.”
“You have someone else.” He repeated coldly.
“That’s correct, I have someone else helping me study, but thank you for such a kind offer.” A small patronizing smile fluttered across my features before I could stop myself, and in an instant, I felt my heart sink. I saw his expression flash with aggression in a blink of unrestraint before quickly resuming to his normal critical glare. It felt almost powerful to have effected such a narcissistic little--
“Very well then,” he turned his head to the side, revealing the muscular tendons in his pale neck, where almost translucent skin lay atop cool blue veins. “I look forward to your... performance.” He cocked a brow and swiftly turned around, briskly leaving me at the entrance of the hospital wing. 
***
I had been planning on seeking out the help of professor Slughorn since the disastrous malfunction of my brew on the first day of the test, but after confessing to Riddle of my non-existent study partner, I decided to make my way to the dungeons to ask for his help. Down the stone staircases, the air seemed to dramatically drop in temperature, and the damp chilled corridor made my still-wet shirt stick to my skin with icy closeness. Knocking on the stone doorway to the potions classroom I cleared my throat. 
“Excuse me professor?” 
“Ah yes? What can I do for you?” Slughorn removed his glasses after placing a small golden stem of some kind into a minuscule vial with a pair of tiny tweezers. He smiled and I approached his desk. 
“I was wondering if I could ask for help before the test tomorrow.” I let my eyes stray to the numerous bottles, jars, bowls, and flasks filled with colorful liquids of differing viscosity that scattered the table. 
He hummed briefly. “I’m afraid I cannot help with that, it would be unfair to the other students if I offered help before a test to only one group, don’t you think?” 
“That’s ok professor, I just thought it couldn’t hurt to ask.” 
“Of course. Well, if there’s nothing else you need, at the moment I’m in the middle of quite a time-sensitive brew--”
“I understand, I’ll see you Friday professor.”
 I stepped out of the classroom, greeted with that all-too-familiar figure I had come to expect outside of doorways.
“Do you follow me, Riddle?” I made no effort to catch his eye as I began to walk back to the Slytherin common room. The heels of my shoes clicked with the sway of my hips as the sound echoed through the stone walls of the dungeons.
 “I wanted to see who your previously mentioned partner would be.” A small smile creeped onto his crystalline features slowly and unnaturally as if the sculptor forming his marble face was forcing emotions onto his art-like exterior. 
“And you got what you wanted, did you?” 
“My offer still stands.” Stopping a moment, I turned to face him. The light from a yellowing lantern glowed out from behind his tall shoulders, creating a blurry halo contrasting with his all-black clothing. The light conformed to the grooves in his face, appearing to drip down his hollowed cheeks and peek from behind his muscular neck. His eyebrows raised in anticipation. I said nothing and stood still when his hand stretched out to grasp the handle of my bookbag, relieving my shoulders of the stress they carried. He silently guided me to the common room, whispering the password and stepping in together, my eyes were met with the familiar glow of the Black Lake glittering in from the skylights above. Still holding my bag, we crossed the near-empty common room to the diverging staircases leading to his dorms and mine. He began up the stairs, looking down at me from an even higher advantage point than his normal towering height. He beckoned me with his eyes to follow. 
I am not going with Tom Riddle to his room, now, am I?
My legs obeyed and he led me to his four-poster bed, curtains draped. With a wave of his wand the thick velvety fabric cinched, revealing his bed, perfectly made, textbooks and parchment sat carefully in the center. The room was considerably darker than the common room, which was illuminated by softly glowing emerald lamps and light refractions glinting from the water above us in the Black Lake. The only light from the room came from the slanted skylights leading to the depths of the Lake above, the room coated in a thick pale green haze. It was as if he had been smoking an intoxicating musk, smelling of fresh sea foam and teakwood. He beckoned me to sit on his bed, and unpacking the books inside, he placed them next to his own materials on the cushiony mattress. He pulled up a chair from his desk and told me to pull out my parchment as we would be taking notes. There was something about being so close to him, silently obeying his requests that seemed strange. I felt as if my mind had been blurred, masked, like perhaps the intoxicating aroma wasn’t really a smell but an aura of attachment, and in that moment there was nothing more I wanted to do than to follow his every word. 
“What aspect of the test frightens you the most?” His words seemed to spill from his lips like warm sap dripping from the rough bark of a tree, I felt myself sticking to it, caught in its sweet trap, inescapable and cruel. Deadly. 
“Perhaps the timing of when to stir after the specific steps--and also how much of each ingredient... and maybe the order of when to stir versus when to add?” I felt my face growing hot.
“You need help with the entire potion, then.” His voice was icy, hinting at superiority and criticism. 
“No, just those few parts.”
“You just described the art of potion making in its entirety.” A small half-smile slithered across his cold features. I said nothing, looking down at the spread of studying materials, feeling overwhelmed and perhaps a bit ashamed that I had gone completely against my conscience and followed the boy to his room and sat atop his bed and--
“Firstly, I’d like to give you this,” he pulled from his pocket a small red square of paper, placing it in my hand. “It’s enchanted to find me once you write on it. If ever you have a question or need anything, I’ll know.”
I stared at the unassuming gift in my hands, wordless.
“It can’t be used during the test, or that would be cheating.” He added slyly, and I let out a small puff of air in response.
“Thank you.”
“Well then, back to the business at hand. Is there somewhere you would prefer to start?” He resumed his unnaturally rigid gaze, and gripped the sides of his chair firmly, he lifted and pulled the chair closer to my position on his bed, which caused the muscles in his toned arms to twist and pull and expose the sapphire veins which coiled across them like serpents. Transfixed still on the tiny red paper, I didn’t answer. In my silence he reached out, and touched my chin, cupping my jaw slightly in his hand. He slowly pulled my face up to his view. 
“No getting distracted, do I make myself clear?” His lips barely moved, but I felt weak to my stomach. My eyes fluttered shut, and I pulled my face from his touch. 
“Don’t do that.” I focused my gaze on his nightstand, forcing my attention on his little reading lamp which had rusted embellishments of snakes resembling vines curling along the base of the lamp. 
“Why not?” 
“It’s distracting.” 
Silence. 
“Lets start with the ingredients.” 
I wordlessly nodded, fumbling with the books until I found the one I had begun to take notes on before I left the library this morning. I handed him my notes, which he gracefully pulled from my hand, and eyed quickly. 
1. Shrivelfig
2. Porcupine quills, (as many as needed)
3. Peppermint sprig
“Your first mistake was when you added the peppermint sprig too early. This step comes after you stir four times counter-clockwise,” he looked down at my notes again. “I see you corrected this by noting that the mixture usually must be prepped before the leaves are added, very good.” I forced back a smile. “The peppermint is quite important to this particular brew, can you tell me why?” Lowering the notes, he stared at my nervous expression. 
“They balance out the intense feelings of...” I stopped dead in my tracks. 
“Euphoria.” 
“...which are induced as the wizard drinks the potion.” I finished, my breathing was shaky, and I felt uncontrollably nervous as he slowly shifted in his seat, leaning closer to me, I felt his hot breath on my neck as he silently exhaled. 
Pulling away from his intimate stance, I stepped off the bed. 
“Tom, I don’t think...” He mimicked my movements, also standing from the chair, his bed now lying between us, he put his knee and hands on the bed, and looked up at me from his lowered position. 
“What is the matter?” 
“I shouldn’t be here...” I walked backwards, finding the door with my hands, and hurriedly making my way down the stairs, completely ignoring all my books still on his bed as I rushed through the common room and out into the cool dungeons outside. My heart beat a thousand times a minute, and my breathing was coarse and shaky, I stood with my back to the icy dungeon wall, my hands traveled to my chest in an attempt to force my erratic breathing to slow. Feeling the hot flesh below my touch, the slight pain flowing back into my consciousness, I remembered I needed to apply my burn cream. Realizing I had utterly missed supper, I decided it would be best to have Madam Pomfrey take a look at my skin.
***
There was no chance I would be back in the common room tonight after what had just happened. I thought, as I swiftly walked up the dungeon staircase to the main floor where I would find the hospital wing of the castle. Following supper, the castle was quiet. Most students had gone up to their house’s tower or down to the dungeons if you belonged to Slytherin or Hufflepuff. The corridors were nearly silent except for a few students quietly walking up the grand staircase or whispering respectfully due to the general understanding that students shouldn’t loiter in the corridors approaching curfew. Still, I silently walked to the hospital wing, hoping Pomfrey would allow me to rest there for the night if there was room for me. Nearing the door, I caught her eye, and she motioned for me to come into the room. To my relief, the lines of beds flanking the central walkway were nearly empty, and Pomfrey led me to a private bed toward the back where a privacy guard had been placed to shelter the injured student.
“How are you healing dear?” She smiled softly and my hand went to feel the hot skin, causing me to squint with a twinge of pain.
“Still painful I see...” her eyes wandered, looking at the floor near me, and suddenly it occurred to me what she was looking for
“My bag! I completely forgot to bring it!” My hand flew to my face, a wave of worry overcame me as I wondered if I would need to go back to his room to get my jar.
Madam Pomfrey’s expression was calm, and as the soft clicking of footsteps drew nearer, the both of us averted our eyes to the figure who approached the guarded stall.
Tom stood at the foot of my bed, and smiled weakly as he pulled the familiar black jar from his pocket. His sea-green eyes glittered faintly in the dimness of the hospital wing. 
“I thought you might need this.” He handed me the jar, and underneath the glass bottom I felt something soft and crisp, looking down I saw the little red paper fall from the jar and into my lap, slipping it into the pocket of my uniform, our eyes connected and he opened his mouth as if to inquire something, but ultimately made no sound and exited the hospital wing. I was now alone with the matron, who noted at how lucky I was to have such an intuitive friend as she watched me apply the paste, critiquing my techniques, and explaining I should always go thicker if I’d like to be safe. 
“Do you plan on making your way back to the dormitories or were you planning on spending the night here since it’s already...” she checked the clock “Well it’s already 10:10, but if you’d like to hurry back to your dorm I can inform Mr. Filch you’ll be--”
“If you don’t mind Miss, I’d like to stay here if that’s okay.” 
“That’s certainly fine with me. I’ll be out, but if there’s anything you need, just ring and I’ll be back as quickly as possible. Sleep well, dear.” I watched her figure leave the hospital wing, and the dim lights overhead faded off, leaving only the faint glow of the moon filtering through the windows above the beds to shine geometrical patterns on the stone floor. I removed my shoes and socks, resting them at the foot of my bed, and undid my hair, feeling it coil around my shoulders. I placed the red parchment on the stand next to my bed, and slid my legs under the covers of the blankets. 
***
As I lied curled up, I watched the minutes pass, my body far from sleep. 10:40, 11:15, 11:50... My eyes were wide open, gazing at the ceiling far above me. No one stirred in the hospital wing, and hidden away at the back of the linear room behind the stiff curtain, I sat up, turning my eyes to that small paper Riddle gave me a few hours earlier. Playing with the soft red paper I felt the curiosity bubbling up inside me. I searched for a writing utensil and scratched a quick message neatly into the paper. As I finished the paper thrust itself from my hands and fluttered through the hospital wing like a butterfly, and out the door it went. Now my excitement was nearing the brim as I sat awaiting a response. 
15 minutes no answer. 
Could he be asleep? I thought as I pulled my legs up to an angle, causing my blankets to tent with the movement. 
15 more minutes. 
I began to assume he had gone to sleep for the night, and just as I lowered my legs and began to relax my position I heard the faintest sound of someone walking the corridors outside the open door to the hospital wing. My eyes flew open and I felt my heat pounding in my chest. 
Was he coming in person?! 
The steps became slightly louder, but still effortlessly soft and steady. Soon a shadowy figure met me at the foot of my bed. Stepping into the light, I felt my heart nearly throwing itself from my chest. The soft light of the moon that filtered through the windows above my bed seemed to veil him with its glow. His composure resembled that of a statue of an angel covered with ivy and carved from sparkling ivory that would sit untouched in an overgrown garden. It was delicate and somehow firm. 
“You’re lucky I am a prefect.” His whisper was barely audible, and as he again stepped closer to my bed he found his way to the chair next to me, and I could more clearly see his still pristine uniform was on, almost as if he had gotten ready to see me. I said nothing, and my eyes could not leave his face. 
“Is your skin feeling any better?” His words were soft and silky, and as he neared my seated position on my bed I realized we had unconsciously copied our exact position when I rushed from his room. “I realize I never apologized for spilling on you... that must have been very painful. I’m sorry.” 
“It still hurts...” I didn’t mean it as a way to force guilt into him, I just felt so strange by our hushed and intimate conversation I didn’t know what else to say to him. 
“May I help you with it?” Reaching for the black jar I did nothing to stop him, my mind swirled with anticipation and emotion. He delicately unscrewed the cap, his long fingers clutching the jar harshly, and the whites of his knuckles stood like snow-peaked mountaintops on his smooth pale hands. 
“Unbutton your blouse.” He softly commanded, and slowly my hands undid the highest three buttons of my top, fully exposing the reddened flesh below my collarbone. He was unexplainably addictive and enticing, and there was no natural reasoning behind the complete trust my body freely gave him. Dipping two fingers deep within the jar, and pulling them out, they were covered in the thick red paste. In a moment of searing eye contact he carefully placed his fingers onto my hot, waiting skin. I let out a soft wince as a spread the mixture across the affected area, a few times submerging back in for more of the wet cream. It was calming and yet exciting to feel him touch me so carefully and full of purpose. 
“Your heart is beating so quickly,” he whispered. “Are you nervous?” 
“Can I ask you something?” I attempted to dodge his question, but to no avail.
“Answer me first.” 
“Yes, very.” 
“Go ahead. What did you want to ask me?” I noticed the ghost of a smirk flash across his lips. 
“Why did you pull my blouse from my skin when the tea spilled onto me?” I watched his eyes stray and I felt like I could almost see him retracing his steps and accessing the memory. 
“I learned if someone has been exposed to a poison spill or a hot liquid the best thing to do is remove the item that the spill happened on. Fabric retains liquid by soaking it up, which would just allow the toxin to sit on your skin...” He caught my eyes. “But since I could not remove your blouse, it seemed the next best thing to get it away from your skin in any other way possible.” I nodded slowly, realizing that his quick thinking saved me from a potentially worse burn. “I learned it from personal experience,” he looked away.
“Someone burned you?” 
“No, I spilled a corrosive potion on myself a few years back.” I let out a muffled laugh. 
“Then what did you do? take your top off?” 
“Is that what you’re thinking about?” 
“No! just that you could have done something wrong in potions class...” I let slip a shy smile. 
“There are many things you don’t know about me.” A tiny but genuine smile danced on his face for a moment, before he returned his hands to my chest, carefully spreading the soft cream and blowing cool air to speed its absorption. The breath made a small chill run down my spine, and turning my eyes back on his face, I couldn’t help but fixing my gaze on his red lips. Red like my simmering potion, red like his crisp parchment square, and red like the paste he gently danced across my tender, red hot skin. 
tags: @tmr-simp-pride​
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phoenix-downer · 4 years ago
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The Bucket List
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After Sora’s return, Riku helps Naminé fulfill the items on her bucket list. 
~2100 words. Post-Kingdom Hearts III and Melody of Memory. Rikunami/Namiku. Romance, Fluff, Friendship. Naminé POV. Written for @memoryofpromises​.
Golden light danced along the walls and rested on Naminé’s face. The breeze from the open window brought in the smell of sea-salt, and she sighed deeply. Having a body of her own again was truly special, even though it had been over a year since she’d gotten one. Every day was a new adventure, and she couldn’t wait to see what this one had in store.
“Morning, Naminé,” Kairi said as she yawned and stretched. Her red hair stuck out from all different sides of her head, and she smiled sleepily. “Did you sleep well?”
“I did, thank you.” Naminé sat up and rubbed her eyes. One of Riku’s baggy hoodies served as her nightgown, and her cheeks flushed pink as she thought about the time he’d given it to her to wear. Since then, she had a growing collection of his hoodies and jackets that supplemented her own wardrobe nicely. 
“Did you enjoy your first sleepover?” Kairi asked as she swept her hair back into a ponytail. 
“I did! It was a lot of fun.” 
They’d stayed up late, watching movies, eating candy and popcorn as they talked about all sorts of things. Another item Naminé could cross off of her bucket list. Now that Sora was home, safe and sound, they were all able to focus on just enjoying life again. Soon after they’d gotten him back, Kairi had helped Naminé make the bucket list, and now her friend was helping her do all the things on it, one by one. 
“We’ll have to invite the other girls over sometime so we can have a proper slumber party,” Kairi said. “We’ll need to figure out a time that works for everyone, but I’m sure we can make it happen.”
“Thank you, Kairi, really. You don’t have to do all this for me—”
“I know. But I want to. You’re my friend.”
Naminé smiled. It was so nice to have Kairi for a friend. Before, she’d felt so alone, and now she had so many friends that there was never a dull moment. Her Gummiphone was always lighting up with messages and photos and phone calls, and her schedule was filled with school and dates with Riku and plans to hang out with friends. 
“So, today you said you wanted to go shopping,” Kairi said as she rummaged through her closet for something to wear. “And that means we can dress up if you’d like.” 
“I’d like that very much,” Naminé said as she got up from Kairi’s trundle bed. It was nice to go from having one dress to a full wardrobe of clothes, and now Kairi wanted to take her shopping to get even more clothes. 
Together they got ready for the day. Naminé went with a simple blue dress with yellow accents that Kairi let her borrow with sandals to match. That was the nice thing about being Kairi’s (former) Nobody; they could swap clothes no problem. Kairi swept her hair up into a French twist and secured it with a clip, then gave her some paopu fruit earrings to wear. When she was helping Naminé put the finishing touches on her makeup, the doorbell rang. 
“Huh, I wonder who that could be,” Kairi said, but there was a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, and her lips were twitching. 
“Kairi?”
“Why don’t we go see who it is,” Kairi said as she grabbed Naminé’s hand and led her downstairs. Naminé’s heart pounded; could it be—
“Surprise!” Kairi squealed as she opened the door. Standing there, wearing a nice shirt and slacks, was Riku. He broke into a smile as soon as he saw Naminé, and she felt a blush creep up her cheeks as she returned his smile. 
“I assume we’re not going shopping?” she asked Kairi. It was strange but also a little thrilling, how much trouble she had looking away from Riku when he was nearby. 
“We can, some other time. But yes, today is supposed to be for the two of you. Riku just wanted it to be a surprise, and he recruited me to help.” 
“You don’t know how hard it was not to say anything,” Riku said. “I’m… not very good at keeping secrets. But I wanted to surprise you.” 
“You did,” Naminé said. “I didn’t suspect a thing.”
They just smiled at each other for a few moments until Kairi cleared her throat. “Better get going, lovebirds, or you won’t have time to do everything Riku has planned.” 
That snapped them out of their reverie, and Riku blushed as Naminé ducked her head and giggled. They hadn’t even left Kairi’s house yet, and they were already getting so distracted. Naminé went back inside to grab her purse, and with that, she and Riku were off. 
“Where are you taking me first?” she asked as Riku led her down the winding path away from Kairi’s house on the hill. It was amazing how comfortable it felt to hold his hand like this now. She still remembered the day when he’d first offered his hand and she’d taken it, the day she’d gotten a body of her own again and a precious reminder that she wasn’t alone.
“To the Gummi Ship,” Riku said as he gave her one of his charming half-smiles. 
“And after that?”
“You’ll see. And no cheating and looking at my memories,” he teased. “I’ve been to the places I plan on taking you today, so I’m sure you’ll find them in there.”
Her lips twitched. “Me? Look at your memories? I would never.” 
“The innocent act doesn’t work so well on me, you know,” Riku said with a laugh. “It might fool Sora and Kairi, but I can see right through it.” 
She bit her lip and stopped walking, and Riku turned around to look at her.
“What is it?” he asked, his face twisted into a frown. 
“You know I wouldn’t look at your memories without your permission, right?”
His eyes softened. “Yeah, of course. I trust you, Naminé.” 
She relaxed at his words. Sometimes she wondered how the others could trust her at all, with the powers she had. But Riku really did mean what he said, of that she was sure. He had always been honest and open with her about his feelings and struggles, so she was trying to do the same. 
She found his hand again, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze. 
“C’mon, let’s go,” he said, and she nodded and let him lead the way once more.
Their first destination was Twilight Town. Riku took her to Le Grand Bistro, where they ate a delicious lunch consisting of Pumpkin Velouté and Sea Bass en Papillote, with Berries au Fromage for dessert. The weather was perfect as they dined outside, just the right temperature with a light breeze blowing through, and Naminé sighed as she set her fork down and patted her mouth with her napkin. 
“Thank you, Riku. The food was delicious.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded. “I used to walk past here sometimes, when we were looking for a way to help Sora. It’s nice to be able to finally eat here myself. It was something I’ve been wanting to do for a while.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, then found her hand again. They just gazed into each other’s eyes for a moment, until Naminé had to look away because she was getting too flustered.
“I’ll go pay up, and then we can go to the next place,” he said. 
The next place was still in Twilight Town. The little outdoor theater, to be exact, the one tucked into a side street that showed the latest cartoons and movies. Naminé had never been to a movie theater before, and she watched enraptured as the action unfolded onscreen.
“It’s so big,” she whispered. She knew from Kairi’s memories what a movie theater was like, but seeing one in person was completely different from seeing it in someone else’s memories. 
When she glanced at Riku, he wasn’t really watching the movie at all. She caught him looking at her instead, and that just made a blush creep up her cheeks once more. She found his hand again and worked up the courage to lean against his shoulder. Yet another thing on her bucket list she could scratch off.
Wait a moment. Was this… on purpose? Did Riku somehow know about her bucket list? And if he did, was he trying to help her do the things on it, one by one?
She shyly looked up at him, and he smiled again and squeezed her hand. “Enjoying the movie?” he whispered.
She nodded and turned her attention back to the screen. There was only one way to find out if he was, in fact, working off of her bucket list. She’d have to wait and see where he took her next. But if she was right, there was something on the list she wanted to experience, more than anything, and she couldn’t wait to see if it would come true. 
When the movie was over, Riku led her up to Sunset Hill. The view from here was as beautiful as it had been the last time she’d seen it. Golden light flooded the sleepy town stretching out below, and the sky above was filled with fluffy clouds tinged purple. Beyond the town were green hills as far as the eye could see, and Naminé found herself longing to sketch the scene before them. They sat on one of the benches and savored the moment till at last Riku spoke up. 
“Do you remember the last time we were up here?” he asked. The breeze ruffled through his hair and clothes, and Naminé was very glad he was dressed like himself this time instead of shrouded in a dark cloak. His eyes were their natural green, and he was looking at her in a way that made her heart flutter. 
“Yes, of course,” she said, pressing her fingers together. “How could I forget? You spared me and saved my life.” 
DiZ had ordered Riku to dispose of her, but Riku had defied his orders, and in doing so, allowed her to escape. That was the first of many times he’d shown her kindness. 
His face was very serious when he spoke again. “Of course I did. It was the right thing to do. I knew in my heart that you were your own person, and I couldn’t just ignore what my heart was telling me.”
“This was the first time, wasn’t it?” Naminé said softly. “The first time we realized… there was something more between us. Against all odds, a human and a Nobody had developed feelings for each other.”
“Yeah. I realized I couldn’t bear to lose you. Funny how that meant letting you go.”
Naminé smiled shyly and found his hand. “But now we’re together again, at long last. It all worked out in the end.”
Even after the long separation they’d endured, they’d found each other again. Even after they’d spent more than a year apart, searching for a way to save Sora, their work was done at long last, and they could finally rest side-by-side, hand-in-hand. 
Her eyes searched his face. He’d fallen silent, like even a whisper risked ruining such a special moment. Her gaze wandered to his lips, full and soft. How would it feel if he bent down and—
Oh. Oh my. He must’ve been wondering the same thing too, because he was leaning closer and closer, his breath warm on her cheek. She tilted her head and let her eyes flutter shut so she could focus completely on how it felt when their lips met. Despite how sweet and gentle the kiss was, it still felt like an electric jolt went coursing through her body at the connection. To think that kissing could feel so wonderful. No wonder people liked to do it so much. 
When it was over, she opened her eyes and smiled. Riku was smiling, too, and he rested his hand against her cheek and gave her a long, lingering kiss on the forehead before straightening. It was funny, how that forehead kiss made her melt even further. She found his hand again, and they sat there, gazing into each other’s eyes, the scenery around them all but forgotten.
As nice as her bucket list ideas were, nothing compared to getting to do them with him. When he was by her side, each moment was a wonderful adventure that would soon become a precious memory.
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A/N: A big thank you to the mods, Kai and Sera, for organizing everything! And thank you to the artists and other writers for creating such beautiful pieces! I really enjoyed being a part of this zine and seeing everyone’s lovely works 💜
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allthingskakashi · 4 years ago
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Hi! Coul a request a scenario that involves Sukea please? Like the reader has a crush on Kakashi and he finds out because her friends tease her in front of sukea and then Kakashi asks her on a date idk if I’m making a point, or can just do anything you wish that involves him pleasee? Thank you ♥️
Okay first of all, that's a really innovative idea!! I loved it. Secondly, I'm sorry it took me so long to get to this but ahh well here it is now and i really hope you like it ❤️
• Serendipity •
[Kakashi x Reader] || 3k words
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a/n : ugh tbh I've been running a little low on creativity lately which is why i hadn't posted anything for like a week but i also didn't wanna go without writing anything so well... I tried. 😩
You sit in the small dumpling restaurant with your friends Kurenai and Anko. Beyond you, the falling dusk envelopes your village in mystical hues of blue and red. It’s Friday, which means the weekend has rolled in after a long and tiresome week. The thought of being off duty for the next two days lifts your spirits, and you look forward to spending the time relaxing at home in your own company.
The evening is busy, streets bustling, vibrant with the hustle of villagers; some heading for a night out with friends, some returning home to spend time with family, some getting ready to go out on a date, everyone looking like they have somewhere to be, something to do.
You sigh, shoving a dumpling in your mouth.
“Why the long face?”, Anko asks between chomps.
“It’s nothing” you shrug, your tone failing to fool anyone.
There’s a soft creak as the gate to the shop opens behind you, a small gust of air whooshing in from outside. The merry chatter in the room comes to a sudden halt, to be replaced by sounds of hushed murmurs and whispers. You glance at the group of women sitting in the table ahead of you, staring at something with mouths open wide in awe. Ahead of you, Anko’s eyebrows are furrowed, a curious smile touching the corner of her lip.
You turn behind, wanting to catch a glimpse of whatever it is that has managed to elicit such a response from the entire room.
Your eyes fall upon a handsome young man, who has just now walked into the restaurant and taken a seat behind you. You feel your heart skip a beat. He’s easily one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. A mop of thick brown hair adorns his head, a tint of purple on his eyelids and stripes of the same colour running across both cheeks. His face is sharp with an angled jawline and he has on a long trench coat with a scarf around his neck. He’s also holding a camera, you notice.
Probably an outsider.
A waitress walks over to him, standing by him and twirling a curl of hair, visibly enchanted by his charms.
Someone thumps the front of your table, startling you. “Jeez y/n, get a grip!” Anko’s voice brings your attention back to your friends as you finally tear your eyes away from the mysterious man in the table behind you.
“What? I wasn’t checking him out” you sputter, unnerved.
“We didn’t say you were”, Kurenai chimes in.
You feel your face getting hot as red tinges your cheeks and you look away, avoiding your friends’ eyes.
“Hey, why don’t you go talk to him? Maybe ask him out?” Kurenai says, her eyes lighting up.
You open your mouth to say something, but Anko cuts in.
“Because she’d rather sit around pining for Kakashi and doodling his name on her diary. How long has it been now? 7 years?”
Kurenai giggles, but puts a comforting arm around your shoulder.
“Alright now, go easy on her”, she says kindly. “But she’s got a point y/n. You and Kakashi have known each other for a long time. You’ve kept your feelings to yourself for years now, I really think it’s time you go out and do something about it. Who knows, maybe he feels the same way about you. Why don’t you give it a shot?”
You let out another sigh and look at your lap. “I just don’t think it’s the right time yet.”
But that was a lie. You’d had feelings for Kakashi ever since you were a teenager. You had always been friends, but you wanted more. You loved being in his company and you had a lot of mutual respect and admiration for each other. But you could never bring yourself to just say the words to Kakashi. There were times when you almost blurted it out, and times when you felt like maybe he felt the same way about you too… but they may have been delusions, for all you knew. You didn’t know anything for certain. And that’s what stopped you from gathering up the courage to say it to him. You told yourself and your friends who knew that you would someday, when the time is right, but it was all a big fat lie. You were scared, and that was the truth, as much as you hated to admit it.
You watch Anko roll her eyes as Kurenai exhales, tilting her head.
“Y/n…It’ll never be the right time. Just do it. You’ve taken down S-rank criminals, you can handle this. Trust me, even the copy ninja can’t resist THAT” Kurenai cheers, grazing her eyes up and down over you with a suggestive smile, her voice encouraging. You chuckle, waving your hand dismissively in embarrassment.
“Look”, Anko interjects in her matter-of-fact voice. “Kakashi’s a wuss. If you wanna get it on with him, you gotta make the move. He’s even worse than you so pussy up and ask him. If I have to hear another of your lovelorn sighs one more time, I’ll go tell him myself.” She says, shoving her last dumpling in her mouth and gulping down a glass of water.
You’d been friends with Anko long enough to know not to put it past her. Besides, they were right. It HAD been very long. Perhaps you really did need to pussy up.
Ughhhhh. Why couldn’t this be easier?
“Anyway, I’m gonna go hit the bar. Any of you suckers wanna join me?” Anko asks, getting up from her chair.
“I can’t. I invited my team over for dinner tonight so I’ll get going.”, Kurenai says, collecting her purse and getting ready to leave as well.
“It’s okay, you guys go. I’ve got some things to do” you say, waving them off.
You watch your friends go out the exit and disappear along the curve of the street. Truth is, you kind of want to be alone, maybe take a walk around the village, gather your thoughts. This conversation with your friends today stirred something in you and you need time to think. You’d let things go on as they were for very long now, but it was time you took matters in your own hands.
Putting the bill down on the table, you head towards the door. Your eyes fall where the man was sitting but the seat is empty now, and you catch him ahead of you, just a few steps away, also heading towards the door. You stand close behind him, clutching your purse to your rib as he opens the door. His elbow juts out, knocking the bag out of your hand as it falls to the ground.
For a quick second you think it’s a thief and you’re almost about to strike a blow but the man crouches down quickly with an “I’m so sorry”, picking your purse up and holding it out to you.
Up close this way, you can see his eyes. There’s something familiar about them but you can’t put your finger on what it is. “Thanks” you mutter, taking the purse from him, your mind still trying to comprehend why this man you’ve never seen before feels so familiar.
“Are you a tourist? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before”, you ask, concealing the suspicion in your tone.
Your village is a small one and almost every face is familiar. Having a visitor in the village is quite unheard of and your instincts tell you that something feels off.
He clears his throat before answering. “Hi, I’m Sukea. I’m a reporter from the Land of Fire. I’m here to conduct research for an article” the man replies, almost in an automated tone but with a smile that immediately softens his features. He’s got a mole under his bottom lip, you notice.
Gosh, that’s a pretty face.
Before you have the chance to say anything else or ask more questions, he mumbles that he’s getting late for something and turns away, hurrying down the street.
You stand there, watching him go.
Weird.
But you’ve got other things to think about now, decisions to make, so you shake the thoughts of this mystery man off your head, although you can’t help mulling over why he felt so eerily familiar.
You walk down your usual route in the quieter part of the village. Walks always somehow help you clear your mind.  The air has cooled down now and there’s a slight chill in the air. A sweet smell of flowers wafts through. You lose track of time walking around the entire village, over the cliff, through the forests, by the stream which shimmers under the moonlight.
It’s almost ten by the time you reach home and the walk makes your calves ache. Probably wasn’t such a good idea to go on such a long walk after injuring yourself on your last mission.
You freshen up and throw yourself down on your bed, glad for the two days of rest that awaits you.
Pulling the blanket over your head, you turn to your side and close your eyes. Kakashi’s face appears almost instantly, the images playing a montage in your head.
His smile that makes buds bloom into flowers… his laughter so pure like a young boy’s…his silver hair which sparkles in the sun, making you want to run your fingers through it… the warmth of his voice when he talks to you-- and suddenly something goes off in your brain. Like a flame igniting. Or rather, a long burning flame finally receiving emancipation. There’s a jolt through your veins and you think—Tomorrow. I’ll tell him tomorrow.
And before you have time to process the sudden thought, languor takes over your body, lulling you to sleep.
You’re up early the next morning, the jolt from last night still coursing through your veins. You’re feeling pretty confident, more than you ever have. Today’s the day you tell him.
But first, you have to head over to the Missions Desk to submit your report. You bash yourself for putting it off till now.
The day outside is beautiful, white cotton clouds floating aimlessly across the azure sky. A pleasant breeze tickles your skin in soft whispers.
You reach the main office and submit your file. The room is empty, except for the people working behind the desks. The man in front of you takes your file, checking the date of your mission and you’re sure you can see a look of judgement flash across his eyes.
You almost feel a little guilty.
“You know, all the other jounins have submitted their reports already” he mutters, not looking up from your file.
“Well actually…”
There’s a voice behind you, and you turn around at the sheepish tone of the familiar voice. Your heart instantly paces up. Kakashi. There’s a file in his hand too. You can’t help the smile that escapes.
You look at him as he comes forward, handing his file over. The man shoots him a similar glance and shakes his head, but doesn’t say anything. You can tell that this must not be the first time. Kakashi smiles sweetly at him, before turning away and looking at you.
“Y/n! Didn’t think I’d run into you here…”
Your blood pounds in your ears as you recall the resolve you made to yourself last night. You’d promised yourself you’d tell him today but right now, in this way? You weren’t ready for this. You hadn’t prepared what you were gonna say, or how you’d say it. A hundred thoughts run through your head.
Hell with my resolve. This really isn’t the right time. I can’t do this.
But on the other hand…
Your brain goes at odds with your heart as you realise you haven’t answered Kakashi yet.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice concerned.
You straighten up, composing yourself.
“Oh hey yeah, I’m fine! I’m great. What’re you upto?”
“Just got a few things I need to do”, he shrugs, walking beside you as the two of you come out of the office into the main corridor of the Hokage Mansion.
“Right. Got any missions this weekend?” you ask, stalling to give yourself time to think clearly.
“Nope. You?”
“No. You?”
“You already asked me”, he chuckles. “So uh. Where are you headed?”
Ugh. This is a disaster.
“Just the market. I… I need to buy fish for dinner”
You feel your palms getting clammy as the air starts to feels too tight. You look at Kakashi out of the corner of your eye and you notice.
He looks nervous too. He’s fidgeting with his hands and there’s something strange about him.
“Well…uh” he stutters, rubbing his neck with his hand before looking at you. “maybe you don’t.”
You look up at him, your eyes wide and face scrunched up in confusion. You’re outside the tower now, standing on the street.
“I…don’t?”
He scratches the back of his head.
“Uh…I mean…I’ve got fish.”, he stammers. There’s a very visible tint of red on his cheeks.
You’re utterly wrapped in confusion by now, and you wonder why he’s acting so strange. Unsure of where he’s getting with that, you say, “Um…That’s nice. Where do you buy fish from? I’ve heard the market by the Temple is good for seafood. I haven’t had the chance to try it out myself though.”
Mother Earth please swallow me whole.
Kakashi lets out a nervous laugh, still fidgeting around with his hands and looking everywhere but directly at you.
“Y/n what I’m saying is…maybe you don’t need to buy fish for dinner because” he looks at you from under his shaggy bangs,which fall over his eyes in the absence of his headband. The tint of his cheeks deepens. “well, because I was thinking maybe you could come over…and I could…cook dinner for the both of us...? Or um go out, whatever you’d like” he says, immediately looking away.
You’d never thought it was possible for the calm and cocky Kakashi Hatake to look this nervous. It’s quite a sight. You might have laughed at it if you weren’t just as nervous yourself.
“Like on a date?” you ask, shock evident in your tone. Your heart is battering in your chest.
This is a very, very surprising turn of events.
“Well…yes”, he breathes, barely meeting your eyes now.
You can hear your heart in your ears. And suddenly, it feels like spring has bloomed inside your heart. Not just your heart but everywhere around you. Like you’ve been transported to a meadow and there’s only flowers and rainbows and butterflies all around.
A breeze passes through, sending a few petals from nearby trees floating along the street. Strands of your hair blow into your eyes.
You sweep them away, looking up at him to see him looking at you, his eyes hopeful, waiting.
You meet his gaze with your burning eyes and smile, tucking another loose strand behind your ear.
“I’d love that” you say before looking down, your tone barely containing the ecstasy you feel within. You feel the chirp of a thousand birds singing inside your heart.
His eyes light up, mouth forming into a grin as you see the muscles on his face relaxing visibly.
Kakashi’s eyes crinkle from the smile and he says, “Well then…I’ll see you for dinner.”
He starts walking away, before turning back and calling out “Oh and yes, I do buy my fish from the market by the temple.”
And with that, he turns away grinning, disappearing with a whoosh, leaving you to stand there, still in shock and gaping after him; wondering which stars had aligned, what forces in the universe had conjoined and what twist of fate had occurred, turning your life around, making you the happiest woman in the world, in the span of just one day.
                                 *     *     *
Aaand a lil bonus addition :-
It’d been around two months that you and the silver haired jounin of the Leaf had been together. Almost everyone in the village knew by now and it had been two months of pure unadulterated bliss. You fit so well together, it felt as if you’d never been apart.
Today was just another lazy afternoon, with you and Kakashi in bed, entangled in each other’s arms, neither one of you wanting to leave your little heaven on earth.
You intertwine your fingers with Kakashi’s, backing into him so you’re pressed against the warmth of his body.
“Hey, Kakashi?” you whisper.
“Hm?” he replies, sleep mangling his voice.
“I’ve always wondered. Why did you ask me out that day? You told me you’d liked me for a long time too. So… why not before? Why that day?”
He chuckles softly into your hair, pulling you closer with his arm.
“Well” he says, almost in a whisper. “I thought it was time I stopped being a wuss.”
“Huh?”
“It had been a really long time and… I thought it was time to, how do I put this, pussy up.” he says into your neck, his voice calm, but with just a tinge of amusement.
WAIT A MINUTE-
You jerk up on the bed, freeing yourself of his grip and turning to face him.
A subtle smile plays across his lips but his face is tranquil, giving nothing away.
Panic rises in you and you shake his arm vigorously. “KAKASHI! HOW-HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?”
He doesn’t stir, eyes closed tight, pretending to be sleeping.
“KAKASHI TELL ME RIGHT NOW” you continue shaking him, but it’s in vain, the man doesn’t stir.
You sigh, replaying the day from two months ago in your head, ravaging your brain for any possible hint. And just like that, it dawns upon you.
“Oh my god—That was you.” You blurt, everything suddenly clicking into place in your head. You feel like a fool for not realising sooner.
He remains unmoving, eyes closed shut. But you don’t miss the slight wrinkle of his mask as his lips upturn into a grin beneath it.
“That was you, wasn’t it??? It was! You sneaky little bastard!” you shriek, jabbing at his arm with a few pokes, but it does nothing.
“Kakashi!”
“Ssshh, I’m sleeping” he whispers in fake slumber, a smile grazing his mouth as he wraps his arm around you, pulling you back into the bed with him.
“Did you really just shush m- “ you begin in protest, but your sentence remains unfinished as he presses his mouth onto yours, catching your lips in a kiss and shutting you up before you can say more.
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suituuup · 4 years ago
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pieces - chapter twelve
Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn’t expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.
rated: E (drug use and emotional abuse in early chapters)
ao3 link
*
Chloe was surprised to hear music drifting through the apartment when she got home from her late-afternoon NA meeting that Thursday evening. 
It had been four days since they had come back from Oregon, and Beca had spent most of her time at the label, often coming home after Chloe was down for the night and leaving before she was up. She always left a note and texted Chloe throughout the day to check on her, but Chloe could tell something was off. 
She rounded the corner to find Beca cooking at the stove, and smiled. “Hi.”
“Hey you,” Beca greeted with a matching smile. “You hungry? Making a stir-fry.” 
“Starving. This baby is making me eat for three,” Chloe mumbled as she walked past Beca to pluck a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge. She uncapped it and took a sip, leaning against the counter. “Are you alright? I couldn’t help but notice you’ve seemed off since we got back.” 
Beca nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I uh,” she cleared her throat as she reached for two plates in the cupboard over her head. “I broke up with Sarah the other night.” 
Chloe’s eyes popped wider in shock. “Oh.”
Beca set both plates on the island, then opened the cutlery drawer. “Yeah… and I kinda threw myself into work, because that’s what I do to cope with my emotions.” She grimaced again, meeting Chloe’s eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much.” 
Chloe shook her head. “No, no, it’s okay. I’m sorry, Bec.” She wondered what the reason for the break-up was, but she doubted Beca wanted to get into that. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 
“Thanks. Yeah. It’s, um, life, right?” She shrugged a little as she turned off the stove. “We just weren’t looking for the same thing.” 
Chloe nodded slowly, then pushed off the counter. “Okay. I’m here if you wanna talk, alright?” She hitched her thumb over her shoulder. “I’m just going to freshen up, I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” 
Beca had scooped food into each plate and poured water into two glasses when she got back clad in comfier clothes, and Chloe perched herself on the stool across from Beca. 
“Thanks for making dinner,” she murmured as she dug in.
“No problem. Did your NA meeting go okay?” Beca asked as she stabbed a couple of vegetables with her fork. 
Chloe chewed and swallowed, then took a sip of her water. “Yeah, it went fine. My sponsor is amazing. We’re meeting for coffee tomorrow morning. Well, tea for me.” Decaf just wasn’t the same. 
“Cool.” Beca smiled. “I was thinking we could get a start on the nursery soon? Have you thought of a color for the walls?”
“You wanna paint the walls?” Chloe asked in surprise. “We don’t have to do that, you know. I don’t want you to be stuck with a nursery-looking room once Bean and I move out.” 
Beca shrugged. “I have another guest room, and I kinda want Bean to have their own room whenever you guys come to visit.” 
Chloe’s heart swelled against her ribs. She wasn’t sure what she had done to deserve someone like Beca back in her life, but she wasn’t going to screw it up this time around. And she had thought about what she wanted Bean’s nursery to look like, but didn’t allow herself to daydream about it until now. “I like those beige walls the way they are, but I was thinking of a woodland theme? Something gender-neutral, for sure. A few animal frames, maybe an animal mobile above the crib?” 
“That sounds nice,” Beca said, smiling. “Are you going to find out the sex at your next appointment?” 
“I think so, yeah.” 
“That’s the 26th at 3, right?” Beca asked, surprising Chloe once more. Upon catching her look, Beca added, “I wrote it down in my planner.” 
It was one thing to have written down, another to remember it off the bat like that, but Chloe didn’t even know why she was surprised. Beca had been nothing short of amazing since Chloe decided to keep the baby, between keeping track of the baby’s growth on her app or making sure to pick up ginger ale every time she went grocery shopping.
“Oh. Yeah, the 26th at 3.” 
As Chloe further settled into her second trimester, her constant exhaustion gradually faded away. She felt more energized from the start of her fifteenth week, which felt like a breath of fresh air. As her OBGYN saw nothing against it, she started each day with a morning fitness walk followed by a yoga session, then settled down to have some breakfast as she read her book. After lunch, she either had a therapy session or an NA meeting, except for Wednesdays and over the weekend. 
The cravings were still there, sitting somewhere at the back of her mind, but she continued pushing through, for the baby’s sake first and foremost, but also because she didn’t want to disappoint her support system and risk losing them forever if she did fall back into old habits. The taunting was strong, every time she walked in front of the liquor store or a familiar street corner where she would get the good stuff, but she resisted, and never hesitated to call Aubrey or her parents when her resolve wobbled a bit too much for her liking. 
“Shit,” Chloe muttered as she tried buttoning her pants up, her more than noticeable belly getting in the way. She had just reached 17 weeks, and her bump seemed to have popped a little more overnight. So had her boobs. She could also start to feel some movement going on in there, which was absolutely mind-blowing. 
Not ready to accept defeat yet, Chloe grunted at the effort of bringing these two stupid pieces of fabric closer together, exhaling with a sigh when they didn’t budge. 
“Chlo?” Beca called out, a knock on Chloe’s bedroom door following. “We should get going.” 
“I know, I just-- can’t get my pants to button,” Chloe muttered with a huff. 
A pause. “Can I come in?” 
“Yeah.” 
The door was pushed open, and Beca appeared, leaning against the frame. 
She Beca looked amused, causing Chloe to glare at her. “Maybe wear a dress?” 
Chloe’s nose wrinkled. “I only have stripper dresses.” That she should definitely donate, or get rid of. 
Beca hummed. “Mesh shorts?” 
“I guess, yeah.” 
“We can go buy some stuff after your appointment if you want?” Beca suggested as Chloe wrestled out of her jeans and slid on a pair of shorts Beca lent her. 
“Yeah, definitely.” She needed bras, too. “Okay, I’m ready.” 
As her last ultrasound at 13 weeks, Chloe didn’t have to change when they got there, and she laid down on the cot as they waited for the tech to come in. Beca stood by her side, scrolling through her phone. 
“So the Bellas’ results are in: 6 say boy, 4 say girl. I said girl.” 
Chloe had broken the news to the girls when they came back from Oregon and had once again received nothing but support. Bets started coming in over the gender, the due date, and whether Bean was going to come out with ginger hair. 
Chloe chuckled as she rubbed her bump with her palm. “You only said girl because I told you I felt like it was a girl.” 
Beca smirked. “They don’t have to know that.” Her expression softened as she pocketed her phone. “You excited to find out?” 
“Yeah,” Chloe breathed out. She was more anxious to hear about how Bean was doing and braced herself for bad news. 
“Hi there,” the tech greeted as she came in. “How are you doing, Chloe?” 
“Good. Hungry all the time.” 
The other woman laughed as she rolled the ultrasound machine closer. “Let’s take a look at that baby. Can you lift your top up for me and lower your shorts a little bit?” 
Chloe did so, reaching for Beca’s hand as the tech squirted some of that cold gel onto her tummy. 
“Alright, let’s see…” the woman drawled out as she moved the wand until she got the perspective she wanted. “Here we go.” 
“Oh, they got so big,” Chloe murmured in awe. 
“They’re moving around quite a bit,” the tech observed with a smile, pointing at the baby’s kicking legs. 
Beca gasped and tore her eyes away from the screen to glance at Chloe. “Can you feel that?” 
“Yeah,” Chloe confirmed, blinking back the tears pricking behind her eyes. “Feels like butterflies taking off in my belly.” 
“Strong heartbeat,” the tech continued. “Baby’s in the perfect position to tell their gender if you want to know?” 
“Yes, please,” Chloe said with a nod. 
“Looks like you’re having a baby girl, Chloe.” 
“A girl?” Chloe croaked out, a lump rising to her throat. The gender didn’t matter to her but knowing made it feel a thousand percent more real. She felt a squeeze to her hand and found Beca smiling down at her. “We’re in trouble. I was a handful as a kid.”
Beca chuckled. “If she has your eyes, I definitely am in trouble. Won’t be able to say no to anything she asks for, I’m warning you now.” 
The way they talked, it almost sounded like they were going to raise Bean together, and Chloe’s heart did another funny thing. Over the last couple of weeks, she had been experiencing weird feelings for Beca that went beyond the friendship line, but she was convinced it was just her hormones acting up like they did with her libido. Chloe felt aroused pretty much all the time, it was getting ridiculous. She also cried in front of a Budweiser commercial because the puppies were cute, so her body and emotions were definitely out of whack. 
The doctor came in shortly after, easing Chloe’s worries when she assured her the baby looked healthy, with normal measurements all around. They scheduled another ultrasound four weeks from now, and she and Beca were on their way with three copies of the ultrasound, one for Chloe, one to put on the fridge, and one Beca requested to store in her wallet. 
Beca drove them to Target next, and instead of heading to the maternity clothing section, Chloe went straight for the baby stuff, pulling a chuckle from Beca as she pushed the cart alongside. 
“Okay, I wanna buy everything,” Chloe mused aloud as she put a onesie back on the rack, even though she found it adorable.
“I know you’re still uncomfortable with it, but please don’t restrain yourself because it’s my money,” Beca said, as though reading Chloe’s thoughts. “I haven’t really had anyone to spend it on, so it’s my pleasure to get Bean whatever they need. Crib, car seat, changing table, stroller, clothes… you name it.” She smirked, nodding towards the rack. “So get that rainbow onesie, because it’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” 
Chloe giggled and nodded, her eyes shining with unspoken gratitude before she reached for the onesie. It was scary to think of how small her baby girl was going to be as a newborn, and Chloe was so glad she wasn’t doing this on her own. 
She selected five more, all animal-themed ones, then moved onto shirts and pants, showing Beca what she thought was cute to get her avail. She kept in mind that the Bellas and her parents were probably going to go overboard with gifts and paced herself on the quantity of stuff she dropped into the cart. 
“I feel like we should get the crib, stroller, and car seat from like, a special store?” Beca chimed in as they strolled through the blankets/swaddles section. She scrunched up her nose. “I don’t think I trust Target brands when it comes to sturdiness. I actually strumbled across a car seat that looks amazing, it goes from that to a stroller in just a few folds and clicks.” 
Chloe cast her an amused look. “How did you stumble across that, exactly?” 
Beca’s cheeks reddened. “By looking up the best strollers on the market.” She cleared her throat when Chloe giggled. “I just have a lot of time to kill on the subway.” Another grimace. “Is that too invasive?” 
Chloe shook her head, reaching out to rest her hand on Beca’s forearm. The contact of her skin under her fingertips made Chloe swallow as her body immediately reacted. Freaking hormones. “Not at all. I promise.” 
Chloe managed to walk away from the baby part of the store before she bought the whole thing, and headed to the maternity wear, buying a couple of jeans with an elastic waistband, a belly band, a few bras, and a pregnancy pillow. 
“Your total is $843,50,” the cashier announced once he had rung everything up, and Chloe swallowed thickly, glancing at Beca with slightly wider eyes. 
“It’s fine, Chlo,” Beca insisted as she swiped her credit card through the device. She thanked the cashier and grabbed most of the bags, letting Chloe carry the two lighter ones. Everything easily fit into Beca’s large trunk, and Chloe slid in the passenger seat, buckling up. “Any particular craving for dinner? We can stop for take-out on the way home,” Beca said as she slid her sunglasses over her nose before pulling out of their parking spot.
“I could go for a burger and fries. And a milkshake.” 
Beca grinned. “Cool, I’ll stop at Shake Shack.” 
Once they got home, they hauled everything upstairs and stored it in the nursery for now, and Chloe changed into sweatpants and Beca’s Bellas hoodie which she had never given back, picking an episode of The Office for them to watch. 
“Oh, I forgot,” Beca said after they were done eating, pushing to her feet. “Stay put.” 
Chloe did as she was told, giving Beca a curious look when she walked back to the couch with a package. Setting her milkshake on the coffee table, Chloe plucked it from her hands. “What’s this?” 
“A little something for Bean,” Beca murmured as she sat back down beside her, folding one leg underneath and hugging the other to her chest. “I ordered it when we got back from Oregon and forgot to give it to you.” 
Chloe ripped the tape over the opening and peered inside, fishing the box out. “Belly headphones?” She asked even though that’s what it said on it, her voice wavering slightly as emotions once again rose to her throat. She could blame that on the hormones too, right? 
Beca nodded. “I read that babies can hear from 18 weeks on, and I thought it would be cool if Bean listened to music before she’s born. And you know nobody takes picking out a pair of headphones as seriously as I do, so I thought I was the right guy for the job.” 
A watery chuckle burst past Chloe’s lips. “This is amazing. Thank you.” She leaned forward to hug Beca, holding her tight. Her scent did another number on Chloe, and she inhaled sharply, willing her body to chill out as she backed away. “For this, and for today…” She couldn’t remember the last time she had smiled so much. “I really don’t know what to say besides thank you.” 
“You’re welcome, Chlo,” Beca said, a soft smile curving her lips. “I’m just happy you’re finding your way back step by step.” 
Chloe nodded, exhaling. The light at the end of the tunnel was just in sight, and while it was another long way to reach it, she felt like she could, and that on its own felt like a victory. 
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