#no sight of any towns in the distance even when viewing the world from space | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreamerstreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Into The Woods

Pairing: werewolf!Dream / Clay x human!gn!reader

Summary: [Werewolf!AU] It’s love at first sight when you move into a quaint, little house by the forest’s edge, but you soon find that there’s more waiting for you in the woods than you originally thought.

Word Count: 10k

A/N: my third commissioned story! this work has been altered so everyone can read it, but the plot remains the same. this story was a blast to write, and i hope you all enjoy it! <3

With a step back and a firm tug, the back door slammed shut with a satisfying click. You grinned as you turned the key in the lock. Slipping the silver keyring into your pocket, you turned on your heel, your gaze sweeping over the vast open forest that stretched out before you. Viridian green leaves loomed over the earth, standing in stark contrast to the clear, cerulean blue sky that stretched across the horizon overhead. On the ground below, the occasional wildflower sprouted up and out of the earth, their soft petals shyly unfurling and fluttering in the warm summer breeze.

For such a lovely view, you never would have guessed that you would be able to afford a place like this for so cheap.

Then again, Elmwood Ridge wasn’t a particularly notable town. Best known for its countless acres of elm forests and the large lake that laid at its centre, the town had become something of a nature reserve unto itself, despite being anything but. It was a quiet, quaint region, somewhere you had always distantly dreamed of visiting, if only because of its peaceful atmosphere. You never thought that you would end up living there, though.

It had been a split second decision made on impulse, and looking back, maybe it wasn’t the smartest move you’d ever made, but you didn’t regret one bit. Your new house was two stories tall and built with lovely stone bricks that looked like they came right out of a fairytale. The triangular sloping roof hung just over the sides of the house to provide some shelter from the rain, and the second floor had two balconies—one in the front and the back. Needless to say, you were sold in a heartbeat. Not only was the house pretty, but so was the price tag. You vaguely remembered hearing something about complaints of noisy wolves in the forest, but you weren't deterred. A little noise never killed anyone, and you were more than happy to share your space with nature.

Hopping down the back steps, you gently tread across the soft grass, careful not to step on any flowers as you walked. After moving in two days ago, you had planned to take the day off to hike and learn all that you could about your new backyard. You would head into town tomorrow and look for a job then—right now, all you wanted to do was explore and appreciate your new home.

Gazing up at the rustling elm leaves one last time, you smiled to yourself before stepping out of your lawn and into the forest.

In the distance, a faint howl rang out across the trees.

Between stretches of chestnut wood, a flash of tawny brown and golden fur dashed across the earth, powerful paws pushing off the ground with each leap. Landing atop a fallen log, the wolf raised his head, his muzzle raised toward the sky as he inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring.

Fresh. Clean. Warm. The faintest scent of flowers.

He exhaled, emerald eyes blinking as he scanned the open forest around him.

Carrying out routine morning patrols around the pack’s territory was one of the alpha’s many duties, but Clay still wasn’t quite used to it.

Stepping down from the log, he let his tongue hang out of his mouth, his ears flicking as he took in every sound. Somewhere above him, a bird flapped its wings, chirping as it took flight. Along the breeze, he could pick up the distant scent of deer coming from the south. His eyes flashed at the smell. He would have to report that to the pack when he returned—it had been a few days since they last had a large hunt. Sniffing one last time, he began weaving between the looming trunks, his entire body rapt with focus.

He had only been appointed as alpha a little less than a month ago, and although he had technically been taught the ropes, it took more than just a few lessons for a wolf to truly become alpha. He could still remember how the former alpha had pressed his nose to his side, nudging him onto the rock peak in front of his pack with an aging howl. He had been getting older, and everyone knew it—it was only a matter of time until a new leader was selected, but Clay never would have dreamt he would be the one who was chosen.

Only a few people were as surprised as he was, though. He was one of the larger wolves in the pack, and while he wasn’t the tallest in his human form—that title belonged to the young, curious Ranboo—he was by far the strongest, having led more than his fair share of hunts before. It was only natural that he ended up in his position, and he was welcomed into the upper ranks with open arms.

A glimmer of warmth washed over him at the memory, and he would have smiled if he wasn’t shifted. He had never felt such pride before, feeling everyone’s excited gazes on him as he howled up at the gleaming, full moon. The shouts that filled the starry night sky made his heart swell in his chest, and he just knew he was going to do his best to make everyone proud. He would protect them to the ends of the earth, if he had to.

Kicking away a stray branch, his eyes quickly flicked over his surroundings. He recognized this area, and he knew that he had almost completed a full circle around the pack’s perimeter, by now. There was only a tiny stretch left before he would return to the camp and fill everyone in. Raising his head, he let his jaw fall open to catch any aromas that travelled along the breeze.

All of a sudden, a new scent wafted over his nose, an unsettling sense of unfamiliarity striking deep within his core.

There was something in the woods—something that did not belong here.

In an instant, Clay’s lips were pulled back in a snark, his sharp canines bared as he sank his paws into the soil below. His claws latched onto the dirt, his grip firm and unwavering as he pressed himself closer to the ground, careful not to let his scent travel in the air.

They weren’t common, but every now and then, hunters would venture into the woods with their heads held high and guns drawn. Most of them came hunting for game, shooting down the occasional deer or elk to bring back to their own families. Clay didn’t have a problem with those hunters, but as for the ones who came in search of wolves?

Clay wasn’t sure he could be so lenient with those ones.

Prowling forward, he kept his haunches low, his tail brushing over the shrubbery as he took step after step toward the strange, new scent. Ever so slowly, he crept closer, his pupils dilated in focus. Suddenly, he stopped, freezing in place.

He could hear footsteps.

Inhaling deeply, he let his eyelids fall shut.

One, two, three...

His eyes shot wide open, and he whipped his head up, only to go stock still as a silhouette came into view.

It was a person, a regular person.

He blinked as he lifted his head, his expression growing neutral as he watched you crouch down to examine a small pile of stones stacked beside a tree, one that he vaguely remembered being made by Tommy and Tubbo when they went exploring a few weeks ago. There was no gun strapped to your body, no pack hanging off your hips as you rose back up to your feet. You didn’t seem to be a threat at all, and from the back, he couldn’t tell if you were even carrying a weapon.

Just then, you turned to the side, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat.

The world suddenly fell away, his surroundings melting into nothing more than a hazy blur as his eyes locked onto your face. His heart came to a screeching halt in his chest.

You were beautiful.

The light framing your lovely face made your cheeks seem all the more lively as you rose. He watched as you brushed your fingers delicately over the bark of a tree, your brilliant eyes meticulously tracing over the curve of every leaf as you walked past. Your feet never lingered in one place for long, constantly moving and skittering across the forest floor like a rippling stream. It was almost as though your every movement cast streaks of dappled sunlight everywhere you stepped, the marvelling spark flickering in your gaze making his head spin with wild abandon.

Clay felt something warm and tight curl against his insides, unmistakably soft and affectionate. It was almost hard to breathe with the way his lungs squeezed and shook behind his ribs. He hadn’t felt this feeling before, but he had heard enough stories to know exactly what it was.

His mate—you were his mate.

There wasn’t any one way to truly describe what a mating bond was, but the most commonly accepted one was that it was a connection that tied people’s souls together, uniting them in perfect harmony. Every werewolf had a mate, and most of the time, they would find their mate in another one of their kind. But right now, as Clay stood in the forest, his gaze glued to the most beautiful human he had ever laid eyes on, he knew that he wasn’t going to find his mate in some other shifter like everyone else had said he would.

Having a human for a mate was rare at best, and unheard of at worst. After all, not every human had a mate, and he had heard stories of shifters being rejected by their human mates. Some of the elders in the camp still refused to believe that having a human mate was even possible, but nearly all of the younger shifters had accepted it—embraced it, even. But never in his pack, at least, had someone learned that their mate was a human.

It looked like he was going to be the first.

For a few long moments, he simply stood there, watching you silently with wide eyes as you slowly made your way deeper down the path. A part of him wanted to chase after you, yearned to walk by your side for as long as his legs would let him. But as soon as he raised his paw, he quickly lowered it again, a pang of guilt shooting through him.

He couldn’t go up to you—not like this, and most certainly not now. He didn’t have nearly enough experience under his belt as an alpha yet, and bringing you to his world could just make everything even worse if he wasn’t careful about it. He swallowed, taking a single step back as you slowly slipped out of view, disappearing into the trees and carrying your lovely scent away with you.

Anxiety gnawed at the inside of his gut, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you would even return. Surely you must live around here to be hiking in these woods—maybe you would hike here again, if not even more often.

He paused, then nodded to himself before whipping around, his tail swishing behind him as he clenched his jaw.

Tomorrow. He would come back tomorrow.

A few feet deeper within the trees, the sound of a stick snapping shattered the forest’s silence.

Along the lightly-treaded path, you whirled, your head pointing toward the sharp sound. Pausing, you raised your head, your gaze darting to the forest canopy above. The sun peaked down at you between swaths of vibrant green, and you squinted, raising a hand to shield your eyes. The trees remained quiet around you, only whispering with the soft rustles of their leaves.

A moment passed in silence. A robin warbled.

You let out a long exhale and shook your head. Turning once more, you stepped over a small crack in the ground, humming as you walked further into the woods.

It was probably nothing.

Sapnap grunted as he dropped the pile of sticks onto the ground, the wood clattering at his feet in a heap. He scowled at the sight, resisting the urge to kick the pile down. He couldn’t believe Wilbur had actually tricked him into doing something as simple as collecting firewood. It wasn’t difficult or anything, but he was the beta, for crying out loud! He could have at least passed the buck to someone like Tommy, that brat.

“Sapnap.”

Sapnap blinked at the familiar voice, turning to find himself standing face to face with Clay. His dirty blond hair was disheveled atop his head, and his cheeks were flushed with heat. A smile tugged on his lips at the sight. “Oh, hey, Clay. Welcome back.” He squinted at the way Clay’s chest heaved, his breaths coming out shaky and uneven. “Um, you good, there? Did you run back here or somethi—”

“It happened,” Clay blurted.

Sapnap blinked, raising a single brow at him. “What happened?”

Clay swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I met my mate.”

Sapnap paused. “Oh. Oh.” A wide grin stretched across his face, and he reached over to clap a hand to Clay’s back. “That’s awesome, man! I’m guessing it happened on your patro—”

“My mate’s human,” Clay said suddenly.

Sapnap paused again. “Oh. Oh.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Clay’s shoulders went slack at his side as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his scalp. “I, um,” he said, his words coming out in a hazy rush. “I don’t think I’m ready to—” He stopped, feeling Sapnap’s patient gaze rest on him, then opened his mouth, again. “I can’t just reveal our world so soon. I’ve only been alpha for what?” He gestured vaguely. “A month? I’m not experienced enough, yet.” He slumped forward, a hollow, wistful look settling onto his features. “It would be too much for both of us.”

Sapnap nodded thoughtfully, understanding flooding his face. “It’s okay, Clay. Take your time.” He fell silent for a brief moment, then quietly added, “Did you reveal yourself or anything?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. I was too surprised to even move.”

Sapnap’s lips quirked up into a tiny smile. “Then there’s no rush,” he said. “You’re allowed to build up your confidence first, dude. Your confidence as a wolf. As an alpha.” His eyes flashed with soft reassurance. “As a mate.”

Clay raised his head, blinking as Sapnap gently nudged his shoulder with his. “You can do this. Plus,” he added, his tone growing more lighthearted, “I’m your beta. You know I’ve got your back.”

The chuckle that escaped Clay’s lips was low and short, but he could already feel the tension seep out his shoulders like a leaking dam. “Thanks, Sap.”

Taking a step back, Sapnap hummed, offering him a lopsided smile. “Anytime.”

Clay turned on his heel, jerking his head toward the centre of the camp. “Well, I need to organize today’s hunt, but I’ll catch you later. I trust you’ll keep things under control while I’m gone.”

He nodded. “Of course—you know me.” With a short wave and a small grin, Clay began walking off in the opposite direction. “Oh, also,” Sapnap suddenly shouted after him, “don’t forget to grab something to eat before you go hunting today, yeah? I know you missed breakfast.”

Clay didn’t look behind him as he shot a thumbs up at Sapnap from behind his back, but Sapnap could already picture the way he would roll his eyes with a smile. Shaking his head, he turned back to the firewood scattered around his feet, a new glower creeping onto his face.

He was so getting back at Wilbur for this.

Every morning after, Clay dutifully woke up early and strolled deep into the woods, shifted into his wolf form as he scented the air and patrolled the area just as any good alpha would. But time and time again, that one sweet scent never seemed to return, almost as though it had vanished from the forest entirely. At times, he thought he caught the faintest whiff of it, but some further exploration would only reveal a small patch of flowers, never you.

Needless to say, his disappointment was palpable.

It had been a full week now, and Clay was running out of hope. Maybe he was wrong—maybe you wouldn’t ever come back. His heart ached at the thought.

He had been too hasty, wasn’t he?

Hanging his head, he whimpered to himself in the quiet forest, sniffing absentmindedly as he ambled about almost aimlessly. He still had a duty to fulfill, he knew, but he couldn’t ignore the empty feeling burrowing deeper and deeper into his chest.

But right then, just as he paced another few feet forward, he heard it.

A melody.

It was soft, the singing travelling down from the west in a distant murmur, or perhaps a hum. If he hadn’t been paying attention, he surely would have missed it. He didn’t know this song, didn’t recognize it one bit, but he could already tell that it was sweeter than any thrush’s song or any loon’s call. He felt his heart flip in his chest, and just like that, he knew.

In a flash, he was racing across the earth, his paws flying out beneath him in a blur as he ducked under branches and darted past deer, missing the way they startled at his sudden approach. The song was louder now, and he could smell it—smell you.

It was only a few seconds later that he came to a stop, his paws digging into the ground as his heart leapt into his throat.

Soft hair. Bright eyes. A dazzling grin.

You were back.

You had headphones on this time, he realized, and you were humming aloud to yourself, your feet most likely moving in time to the beat of whatever song you were listening to. You were a little off-key and occasionally stumbled over the refrain as it came around, but he found himself entranced nonetheless. Even when you were doing something as simple as humming, you were stunning.

Why come back today of all days? he distantly wondered to himself. What made today so different from any other day?

He wracked his mind as he felt the sun shine down on him gently, warming his back as he crouched down a little. He rarely kept track of the days—that was Sapnap’s job—but he knew that there hadn’t been any special events or holidays going on in the human world. Pressing his ears flat against his head, he scratched his paw at the ground in confusion. Just what made today so special?

That was when the realization slammed into him.

It had been a week since he last saw you.

Once a week—you must hike here once a week.

If he could smile in this form, he already knew that he would have the biggest, stupidest grin plastered to his face. He wanted to leap for joy and howl like there was no tomorrow, but he didn’t want to alert you of his presence just yet. Again, it had only been a week, and he was still far from being a worthy mate for you.

Once a week, he thought once more, his eyes glued to you as you skipped further down the trail and out of his sight. I can wait another week.

The wind sang in his ears as a gentle breeze brushed over his tawny fur, the forest murmuring a silent lullaby into his ear as he whirled back around. As much as he wanted to stay with you forever, he had a patrol to finish and a pack to defend. He let his eyelids flutter shut for the briefest of moments, your face engraved into the rosy crevices of his heart as your humming filled his ears once more.

He couldn’t wait to see you, again.

One week later, you grumbled to yourself as you stomped through the woods, complaining about your new job under your breath. Clay wished he could comfort you, but stayed put with his claws buried in the dirt.

Two weeks later, you watched with wide eyes as a doe and her fawn drank from a nearby stream. He made sure not to hunt those two down in particular later that week.

Three weeks later, you were snapping photo after photo with the camera hanging around your neck, your eyes absolutely brimming with curiosity. He thought you were prettier than any view the forest had to offer.

As one week stumbled into the next, the months began to pass in a blur. Summer collapsed into autumn as the leaves turned gorgeous shades of crimson red and golden orange before tumbling from the sky. Shortly after that, the forest was covered in a blanket of ivory white snow, leaving the branches bare and awaiting the return of spring. The snow soon melted into rain, and puddles littered the forest floor while flowers began to bud and bloom once more. In almost a whirlwind of seasons and waiting, summer rolled around once more, marking the first anniversary of your arrival in Elmwood Ridge.

With each passing season, Clay continued to watch you from afar with a tender gaze. Some days, he would listen to you hum as you trekked along while other times, he would only manage to catch the tiniest of glimpses of you between the trees. No matter how short the instance was, every second he got was well worth the wait, and Clay could feel his affection bloom like a new spring flower. As the trees grew larger, as did his confidence. Time was the best teacher the forest had to offer, and it didn’t take much longer for Clay to grow comfortable with his duty as the alpha of his pack. But despite his newfound strength, he still didn’t feel ready enough to approach you outright, to reveal himself to you as he was. Doubt swirled in his mind like a raging storm, eating away at him like a gnat digging through mud.

He was beginning to fear he may never be ready.

Lifting his head, he sniffed the air, the now familiar scent of his mate drifting across the new summer breeze. You were taking a new path today, he noted in an instant. Perhaps you were doing some exploring.

Padding through the trees, leaves crunched beneath his feet as he leapt over logs and puddles, following after your scent as it grew stronger and stronger. It only took a few moments for him to find you standing atop an elevated rock face, your head lifted as you gazed up at the light scattered between the tree leaves. Your face almost seemed to be glowing in the pale, morning sunshine, your eyes looking like two dewdrops as they curved into tiny crescents. Clay’s heart rattled in his chest, and he resisted the urge to howl to the heavens above.

You were lovely, his mate. If only he could work up the courage to properly tell you.

Basking in the sunlight, he watched as you took a few steps forward closer to the cliff’s edge, your eyes still trained on the sky above. It wasn’t a terribly deep fall, he knew, but the fall was most certainly far enough to hurt someone if they fell at the wrong angle. He narrowed his eyes as you stopped dangerously close to the edge, halting just a few inches from the drop. Surely the stone was strong enough to support your weight, even as old as it was, right?

Apparently not.

Clay saw the cliff crumble before you did.

Terror shot through his body like a bullet as he watched the rock face collapse under your shoes, your feet tumbling out beneath you. Your hands desperately reached for the cliff face, but he could tell from the way your scream cut through the forest’s silence like a sharpened blade that you weren't going to be able to grab it in time.

There was no time for him to think—his body moved first.

In one moment, he was standing with his mouth slack and his emerald eyes blown wide with horror. In the next, he was lunging across the rock face, his jaws wide open as he reached for the lower collar of your shirt. The moment he felt his nose brush against the back of your neck, he snapped his jaws shut, careful not to pierce your skin with his sharp canines as the cloth caught between his teeth. Your weight bounced beneath him once, and the gasp that escaped your lips made his head spin dizzily.

Close—you were so close, and your scent was intoxicating.

You turned your head ever so slightly, and he felt it the moment your eyes locked onto his. You were scared, he could tell, but as you took in the sight of the wolf holding onto you, you almost seemed to relax in his grip. Planting his paws firmly against the rocky earth, he tugged his jaw up and backwards, pulling you away from the cliff face and over even ground. Your hands scrambled to latch onto the cliff edge, helping to pull yourself up until finally, he let go of you, your now torn collar resting against the back of your neck.

Heaving a sigh of relief, you let yourself collapse against the rock face, lying on your back as you gasped for breath. Your chest felt tight like a wound-up spring, and adrenaline pumped through every vein in your body, yet you felt oddly calm. After a minute or two, you slowly pushed yourself forward on your arms until you were just barely slouching forward, looking over your shoulder. A few feet away from you, the wolf stood, his eyes trained intently on your face as you swallowed.

“Um,” you breathed, your eyes desperately scanning him up and down. “Hello?”

He didn’t say anything in return, simply shuffling further away from you. He was giving you space, you realized after a brief moment, and you blinked as you scrambled to sit completely upright. His fur was a soft, golden brown, and you had half the mind to distantly think that you wanted to run your fingers through it. Something about him seemed comforting like that.

“Hi,” you whispered once you were seeing him eye-to-eye. “Ah, um, thank you for saving me.”

Maybe you were just imagining it, but you could have sworn his eyes widened in an almost human-like manner. He didn’t move from his spot a few feet away from you, and you swallowed. You thought you would be more scared than this, more terrified of the beast standing before you. But as you sat there, watching as he blinked at you, you felt as though you were anything but. An unfamiliar yet strangely comforting warmth curled around in the pit of your stomach as you tilted your head at the wolf.

He felt so... safe. So familiar, almost like you had met him before.

“Are—are you a nice wolf?” you asked after another moment, your voice faltering the tiniest bit. “I’d like to think you’re a nice wolf, since you just saved my life.”

Once again, you were greeted by silence, the only indication that he had heard you at all being the way his ears flicked. What am I doing? you suddenly thought, your mind running at a million miles a minute. I’m talking to a wolf—an animal. I’m not a Disney character.

This was weird—or at least it was supposed to be. Yet, as you stared at this wolf who simply stared back at you with these bright, stunning green eyes, you couldn’t help but feel that everything in this moment was just perfect. Like you had been waiting your entire life for this moment to happen.

“You’re really pretty,” you suddenly blurted. In an instant, you were slamming your palm over your mouth, your cheeks flooding with heat. “Oh my god, that was embarrassing,” you murmured, your voice coming out muffled. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart hammered against your ribcage like a caged bird begging to be let out, and ever so slowly, you lowered your hands from your mouth, offering the wolf a shaky, sheepish smile. “Um, thank you, again,” you said gently, honestly. Leaning forward, you pressed your hands against the cool stone to balance yourself, your fingers digging into the rock as you spoke. “I don’t really know how you knew I was there or how you knew I was going to fall, but I really appreciate it.”

The wolf blinked at you once more, then took another step back, subtly dipping his head. Your smile widened at the sight. Pushing yourself upward, you rose to your feet, brushing off the dust from your frontside before standing upright, fidgeting almost nervously.

“I—I,” you stammered, suddenly feeling awkward, “I think I’m going to go home now, but...” You swallowed, raising your hand in a small wave as heat rose in your chest. “...thank you so much, again!”

Before the warmth in your heart could burst, you whipped around, sprinting away as fast as your legs could take you. You didn’t see the way the wolf practically crumbled into a ball on the ground, whimpering to himself as you disappeared out of sight.

Bolting down the hill and past the trees, branches blew past you in a blur as you dashed between the trunks and over patches of wildflowers. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears like a beating drum, and your chest felt oddly light. You couldn’t shake the memory of how intense that wolf’s gaze had been on yours, his eyes swirling with something that made your stomach churn and your mouth go dry.

He really was pretty.

Sapnap yawned as he stretched his arm behind his back and above his head, rolling his neck as the joint popped back into place with a satisfying crack. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept in like this, but he did not regret it one bit. Clay had given him the okay, after all. One late morning wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“Sapnap, you are not going to believe this.”

Sapnap yelped, whipping around with eyes as wide as saucers as he stumbled back a step. The drowsiness left his body in an instant, almost as though he had never been tired to begin with. Clay’s hand shot out to grab his arm, steadying him as he swallowed, relaxing once he realized who he was looking at.

“Holy crap, Clay,” he gasped, pressing a hand to his racing heart, “you scared me! I know you’ve gotten better at this whole stealth thing, but that was just straight up terrifyi—”

Clay’s grip on his arm tightened. “I saved them today,” he whispered.

Sapnap froze, and there was a beat of silence. “You did what, now?”

Just like that, Clay had flung his arms up and around his head, his fingers buried in his hair as he began to pace, his tone frantic and rushed. “There—there was this steeper area with this cliff but it was kind of hidden, and then it was breaking and I just knew something bad was going to happen, and I couldn’t just let that happen, so I moved without thinking and I was pulling them back and—”

A pair of hands suddenly grabbed onto his shoulders, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Breathe,” Sapnap instructed calmly. “You need to breathe, dude.” Clay opened his mouth, but Sapnap spoke before he could. “You are talking so quickly right now, and I can’t understand you when you talk like that.”

Clay closed his mouth, mulling over the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions steamrolling through his head. After a few moments, he finally spoke once more. “I still can’t believe it,” he murmured, suddenly sounding completely and utterly awestruck. “My mate actually stopped and thanked me. And called me pretty.”

Sapnap’s fingers loosened around Clay’s shoulders, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips. “Yeah?”

Clay sighed, sounding absolutely lovestruck. “Yeah.”

Pulling his arms back to cross them over his chest, Sapnap eyed him up and down, cocking his head. “So,” he began gently, “how are you feeling?” When Clay opened his mouth, Sapnap quickly added, “Slowly, please.”

Clay groaned, teasingly rolling his eyes before leaning back on his heels, rocking back and forth as he began to speak. “I only revealed myself as a wolf,” he said softly, “so I don’t know if they know about the mating bond yet. I don’t even know if humans can feel it like we can.”

He tilted his head back, gazing up at the cerulean blue sky. “But there’s something about the way we looked at each other that makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, humans can feel it,” he whispered, sounding breathless all at once. “Call it a gut feeling, I guess. I don’t know.” He cast a glance over at Sapnap, his eyebrows furrowed. “Do I sound crazy?”

A thoughtful look flickered across Sapnap’s face. Then, he grinned. “A little bit, yeah.”

Clay sighed, something he noticed he had been doing a lot more, lately. “I just…” He swallowed. “I just don’t want something like that to happen ever, ever again.”

Suddenly, he fell quiet, his lips parting as the wheels in his head began to turn. Sapnap watched as a tiny spark came to life within his focused gaze, small but oh-so vibrant.

“You got an idea there?” he prompted after a few seconds of silence.

Clay blinked once. Twice. Then, a smile stretched across his face—a smile as bright as the full moon.

“Something like that.”

It was probably a dumb idea for you to return to the forest for your weekly hike as if nothing had happened, but you couldn’t quite quench the curiosity that bubbled up inside you every time you thought about the wolf who had saved you. His gaze had been fiery, yet compassionate, and he had been purposely so gentle when tugging you away from the cliff. You weren't a fool—you knew how powerful a wolf could be. Then why did he treat you so kindly?

You had to find out.

Marching through the brush and shrubbery, you whipped your head this way and that, scanning every strip of forest you could lay your eyes on. Wolves were good at hiding, you knew that. After all, if they weren’t as stealthy as they were, they would never be able to catch a meal. But you had been hiking for almost an hour now, and you still hadn’t seen a single glimpse of the wolf. You couldn’t say you were completely surprised, since it wasn’t like you knew every inch of the forest, but you were frustrated to admit that you were at least a little disappointed. Maybe this was a lost cause.

But then, you heard it.

The sound of a stick snapping.

Freezing, you paused, turning as you glanced to the sides. Nothing out of the ordinary stood among the bushes. You stopped again, then pursed your lips.

No, something was there.

A tender curiosity sparked between your lungs, but it was coated in a thin layer of reluctance. Sucking in a deep breath, you whipped around, squinting at the seemingly empty trees around you as you opened your mouth.

“Wolf?” you called out slowly into the quiet. “Is that you?”

At first, all was quiet, and you held your breath. The leaves rustled around you almost tauntingly, and you distantly heard the caw of a crow. You were just about to give up and go home when a flash of gold caught your eye.

Standing motionless a single yard away was a wolf—your wolf.

A grin stretched across your face, joy surging through your body as you carefully took a few steps forward. Oh, this was definitely a dumb idea, but you was more than brave enough to keep going.

“Hi, there.” You shuffled your feet, a tentative look passing over your face. “You’re, um—” You gulped. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

Clay’s eyes went wide, and he took a step back. No! he thought, hoping you would be able to read his expression, even as a wolf. Never. Not in a million years.

You stared at him for a long moment, blinking slowly as you scanned his face up and down. Then, your lips quirked up into the tiniest of smiles.

“No,” you murmured in the softest of voices, and he felt his heart melt in his chest. “If you were going to do something, you would have done it by now, wouldn’t you?”

Clay nearly sank in relief, and he barked. You raised a brow at the sound, furrowing your brows slightly. “Do you want me to keep you company?” you asked, beginning to walk up to him. “Is that what you’re doing?”

You had only made it a few steps when he suddenly barked again, taking a step toward you. In an instant, you froze, watching with bated breath as he curled around to your other side and gently nudged at your leg with his nose. You shot him a curious glance, stumbling forward the tiniest bit. “Hey,” you said, “what are you...?”

You trailed off, a cut rock face suddenly catching your attention from the corner of your eye. The stony grey wall was nearly perpendicular to the ground and looked almost eerily similar to the one you had nearly fallen down the week prior. Just like that, it clicked.

There was another small cliff right there. He was trying to keep you away from it.

“Oh,” you breathed, your lips splitting into an even wider grin as you made sure to steer away from the short cliff, “you don’t want me falling again, do you?”

He snorted, and you blinked at him. That sounded far more human this time—almost too human. It almost reminded you of a dog, if anything. A triumphant smile slowly crept onto your face, and with your head held high, you turned on your heel, marching onward and away from the rock face.

“Well, wolf,” you said, a teasing arrogance seeping into your tone as you glanced over your shoulder at him, “I promise you that I’ll be much safer this time arou—woah!”

The toe of your shoe caught on a protruding stone, and with a sharp yelp, you stumbled forward, gravity pulling you downward with a harsh pull. With a flail of your arms, you only just barely caught your balance as your hand shot out to grab onto a tree and steady yourself. Your heart flipped in your chest as you planted your feet firmly against the ground, the soles of your shoes pressed flatly against the earth as your fingers curled into the bark. Your chest heaved with surprise as you stood upright, turning to look over your shoulder at the wolf. He blinked at you, and while you knew wolves couldn’t quite smile, something about his gaze almost seemed cocky—like he was laughing at you. Heat crept up your neck and onto your face, your cheeks bursting with warmth.

“Y-You did not see that,” you sputtered, coughing into your sleeve as you brushed off your pants dismissively.

Almost as if to spare you some embarrassment, he turned his head away from you, although you could see his eyes glance your way every few seconds. Pouting, you huffed, whirling on your feet as you continued to trudge down the path. Soon enough, the sound of soft footsteps trailed after you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sound, knowing that he would follow you even if you weren't looking.

That night, you dreamt of whispering trees and a pair of bright, viridian green eyes.

What had once been a weekly ritual of watching from afar soon turned into an amicable companionship between human and wolf. You weren't afraid as you walked into the woods to see a familiar pair of eyes waiting for you, your eagerness to see him only growing with each passing week. Clay himself could hardly contain his excitement. Actually walking beside you was so much better than simply watching from the woods, hidden by the trees. He loved your company and absolutely basked in your presence, even if you sent his heart into an absolute frenzy.

“Sometimes,” you said aloud one day, “I really do think you can understand me.”

Clay stiffened, praying you wouldn’t notice the way his ears pressed flat against his head as he turned to look at you. You sat on a tree stump while he padded atop the fallen trunk it sat beside, your gleaming gaze slowly blinking at him as he silently circled around you.

“I think it’s got something to do with the way you react to some of the things I say,” you murmured. You watched the way his tail flicked behind him, the soft fur brushing gently against the low-growing plants. A second later, you sighed, waving your hand. “Ah, I’m probably just imagining things.”

Clay nearly heaved a sigh of relief, continuing to pace. You would say surprising things like that every once in a while, and it would send his heart racing. Well, you usually only said one absurd thing per week, so you probably weren’t going to say another thing like that toda—

“Can I pet you?”

His paws came to a halt. Perhaps he thought too soon.

Before he could even properly process what you had said, You were backpedaling, shaking your head with an apologetic look. “Agh, that’s a terrible question. You’re a wolf, not a dog. There’s no way you wou—”

All of a sudden, he was crawling up to you, jutting his forehead toward your hand. His muzzle was clamped shut as his eyes bore into yours, and you gaped at him, the realization beginning to dawn on you.

“Wait,” you breathed in disbelief, “you’re actually going to let me?”

He didn’t move, lowering his eyes to the ground almost shyly as his ears curled toward you. Slowly, you raised your arm with a shaky hand and reached forward, letting your fingers gently brush over his tawny fur with a feather-light touch. You nearly gasped at the feeling, not noticing the way his legs trembled beneath him.

“Wolf,” you whispered after a few seconds, “you’re really soft.”

Clay nearly combusted on the spot. Perfect—everything about you was just perfect.

With your hand buried in his soft fur and the summer breeze ruffling your hair, You smiled, sighing with warmth lighting up your heart as the wolf at your feet melted beneath your touch.

Sapnap tapped his foot impatiently, squinting up at the glaring sun. George slept in, again. He was kind of used to it now, but even though he wasn’t surprised, he wasn’t afraid to admit that he was more than just a little ticked off.

“My mate pet me today.”

Sapnap tensed for a split second, turning to see Clay staring at him with wide eyes. Relaxing once more, he stared at him for a long, long moment before speaking. He really needed to start giving him some sort of heads up at this point.

“Dude,” he said, “I know that the last time you asked me if you sounded crazy, I said a little bit, but I feel like I might have to change my answer.”

Clay shot him a glare, and he couldn’t stop his lips from twitching in amusement. “Sapnap,” he said bluntly, “you act like you don’t talk about Karl and Alex like this.”

Sapnap looked taken aback for a moment, raising a finger, then lowering it with a defeated look. “Touché.”

As Clay walked off with his head held high and a bounce in his step, Sapnap chuckled, watching him leave with a small smile. He recognized the gleam in his eyes, the rosy hue of his cheeks.

Love—Clay really was in love, wasn’t he?

“I’ve been thinking,” you said one day, a few months later.

Clay perked up at the sound of your voice from where he lay at your feet, soaking in the first few rays of sun. It had been well over a year since he had first laid eyes on you now, and a little over a few months since you began walking together. It was only a matter of time until the leaves would turn golden brown once more as autumn descended upon them.

“I dunno,” you murmured, knocking your legs back against the stone you sat on. “I feel like I should give you a name instead of just calling you wolf all the time.” You flashed him a shy grin, your gaze darting this way and that. “It feels kind of awkward, you know?”

He cocked his head. A name? Chances were you probably weren't going to guess his actual name. He supposed he wouldn’t mind a nickname. Then again, he didn’t think he would mind anything that you might do. Lowering himself closer to the ground, he let out a quiet bark of approval.

Your lips twitched the tiniest bit at the sound, and you hummed, drumming your fingers against your thigh. “How do you feel about... Aaron?”

His emerald eyes flashed as he took a step back, ducking his head the slightest bit. Your lips pursed into a small pout, and you leaned down to rest your chin on your hand. “Alright,” you murmured, “not Aaron, then.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek for a second. “Roy?”

Clay didn’t even have to think about it for more than a second before he was whimpering, pressing his head to his paws as he dropped his haunches close to the ground. You snorted at his obvious disapproval, tapping the toes of your shoes together with a pensive look.

“Okay,” you said slowly, drawing out the vowel sound, “maybe we should try some less... human-sounding names.” You tilted your head, letting your gaze trail up the tree trunks and up at the sky above. The sun wasn’t shining directly into your eyes this time, and you blinked with surprise to see a puff of white fluff blocking out the light.

“What about,” you offered with a hum, “Cloud?”

You glanced down again, only to see the wolf staring back at you blankly. You couldn’t quite read the look in his eyes, but you had a feeling he wasn’t quite satisfied with this one, either. Lowering your chin, you puffed your cheeks, glancing this way and that across the forest around you. You couldn’t just call him something like Leaf, or Sky—those would be too obvious, too plain for a wolf as lovely as him.

Sighing, you let your eyelids flutter shut, letting the sun wash over your cheeks and warming your skin. He was... special, even if you knew you were biased in your opinion. There was some special quality about him, something that made your chest swell and your heart skip a beat, almost as if he came straight out of a—

“Dream,” you whispered at last.

Clay’s ears perked up at the new name, and he lifted his head, flicking his ears at you. Maybe it was the name itself, maybe it was the way you said it, or maybe it was just you, but something about it just felt right. He barked once, lifting his tail as he stepped toward you.

You blinked at the sight, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Dream?” you repeated. “You like the sound of Dream?”

He barked again, leaping up onto his hind legs for a moment. You grinned, giggling at the sight of such a large wolf acting almost like a dog around you. “Alright,” you murmured, reaching your hand out toward him, “Dream it is.”

Leaning closer to you, he sank into your touch as you rubbed your hand over his head, scratching behind his ears as he let out a soft whine from the back of his throat. Your eyes softened, and you curled your knees a little closer to your chest, resting your chin on them.

“It probably doesn’t matter to you since you’re a wolf and all,” you said softly, your voice almost sounding shy in the quiet of the morning, “but my name is [Y/N].”

Clay felt a tender warmth blossom in the cracks beneath his chest, heat unfurling from the depths of his soul as something inside him swelled beyond belief. Your hand continued stroking his fur all the while, not at all noticing the way he pressed his head a little closer into your soothing touch, yearning and longing for more.

“[Y/N],” his heart sang, shooting from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. “[Y/N], [Y/N], [Y/N].”

Had a name ever sounded as beautiful as yours?

Sapnap was going to wring Skeppy’s neck. Skipping out on a morning meeting was one thing, but skipping it to hang out with your mate? Not even he did that.

“[Y/N].”

Sapnap didn’t bother flinching as he turned to see Clay standing in front of him, panting like his life depended on it. This was far from the first time this had happened, and he was sure it most certainly would not be the last. “What?”

Clay shook his head, half-looking like he was about to collapse on the spot. “My mate’s name is [Y/N].”

Sapnap blinked, then his lips curled up into a smile. “Congrats for learning what it is, man,” he said honestly, patting Clay’s shoulder with his free hand. “That’s fantastic, really. You’re making progress.”

Clay swallowed, and he reached up to drag a hand down his face before letting it drop loosely at his side. “Sapnap,” he said slowly, his voice sounding quiet and raw, “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

Sapnap’s eyebrows knit together, confusion rippling across his features. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You can’t keep visiting?” Something uncomfortable and cold tugged at the back of his mind. “There’s no way you’re just gonna give up like that, are you?”

Clay’s jaw dropped. “What? No! I mean that...” He paused, squeezing his fist for a moment as he sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t think I can keep showing up in only my wolf form.”

The cogs in Sapnap’s whirred to life as he took in his friend’s clenched jaw. Then, his eyes went wide. “Are you saying...?”

Clay nodded, pursing his lips as he swallowed thickly. “I’m going to reveal who I am.”

His eyes flashed with determination.

“Who I really am.”

You hummed as you twisted the key in the hole, the back door locking shut with a click you had grown used to hearing every week for the past year and a half, now. Whirling around, you could already feel the smile start to spread across your face as you leapt off the porch and ran toward the well-worn path, the forest beckoning you forward with a distant howl. You didn’t remember when exactly your weekly hikes grew to become your favourite part of the week, but you couldn’t imagine life without them, anymore.

Sucking in a deep breath, your chest swelled at the fresh air rushing into your lungs, excitement flickering through your body with every step you took. You couldn’t wait to see Dream again, as strange as it may sound. He had grown to be a greater comfort than you would have ever imagined, even if he was just a wolf. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but you knew your feelings were true—you couldn’t deny the warmth he made you feel.

Whipping around a tree trunk, you felt your heart skip a beat. You already knew Dream would be waiting for you at your rock—the one he had saved you from all those weeks ago. It had become a sort of meeting spot for them, and every week without fail, he would appear there, no matter how early or late you were.

As the shrubbery gave way to a clean, dirt trail, you lifted your head, squinting your eyes. You recognized this part of the forest, and you knew that you were getting closer. Just then, you saw it—the familiar streak of grey stone slanting up from the earth in a small cliff face. Usually, Dream would sit at the cliff base, his ears already pointed toward you. But today, your brows furrowed when you didn’t see a pair of ears facing you, but a head of hair.

Someone else was at your rock.

Slowing your pace to a walk, you paused for a moment, eyeing the figure sitting at your usual meeting spot. It was a man, you realized, and he was facing away from you. He wore a simple white shirt with jeans, and his hair was a shade of dirty blond with streaks of gold. Even if only from the back, it looked almost oddly familiar gleaming underneath the morning sun.

Taking a tentative step forward, you curled your fingers into your palm. “Hello?” you called hesitantly.

The man startled for a moment, then turned toward you, his face coming into view. As his gaze locked onto yours, he opened his mouth and uttered two simple words.

“Hi, [Y/N].”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat.

His voice was soft, gently wrapping around you like a soothing blanket. Your gaze only briefly raked over the comforting smile gracing his lips, instead focusing on the gleam in his eyes that danced with something warm and inviting.

His eyes were green—a shade of green that you had grown to know and adore.

No, you thought, your heart trembling in your chest. He couldn’t possibly be...

You took another step forward, closing the space between them by another few inches. With your eyebrows knitting together, your voice dropped to a small, curious whisper. “Dream?”

He shot you a crooked grin, chuckling softly. “That’s my name—or at least the one you gave me.” Leaning forward, he rose to his feet, the sun casting a bright streak of light across his cheeks. “My real name is Clay.”

All of a sudden, you felt as though all the air had been sucked out of your lungs. “Clay,” you repeated, your mind slowly growing murky with confusion, “but you’re also Dream. How...?”

A sheepish look skittered across his face, and he ducked his head. The way he lowered his chin was familiar, looking almost far too like a certain wolf you knew. “I—I guess you could say I live in two worlds with two forms,” he began. “Sometimes I’m a wolf, sometimes I’m a human.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but you didn’t miss the way his shoulders remained tense. “You already know one of them, but I didn’t want to keep hiding this form from you, so...” He gestured to himself with a bashful look. “...here I am.”

You blinked at him slowly, the muddled fog in your head slowly giving way to a strikingly warm clarity. But before the clouds could fully part, your lips began to move.

“You’re still pretty,” you blurted, your eyes going wide as soon as the words left your mouth.

In a flash, Clay’s cheeks flushed crimson, a haze of rosy pink dusting his freckles. “H-Huh?”

Waving your hands in front of you, you took a step back, embarrassment shooting up your spine. “I-I mean to say that you’re still pretty as a human! Because you’re pretty in both of your forms!” You stiffened, exasperation soaking your features as your knees buckled. “Wait, no, oh no, that’s also embarrassing... wait, please, um—”

Suddenly, he began to laugh. You fell quiet as you watched Clay clutch at his stomach, his lips split into a wide grin as peals of laughter tumbled from his lips. A familiar pit of warmth flared up in your stomach, one you had felt standing here with Dream so many times before.

He really was Dream, wasn’t he?

As his chuckles finally died down into silence, he stood upright once more, wiping a barely there tear from his eye. “I’m sorry for laughing,” he managed with an apologetic smile. “You must be confused about, well, everything.”

You offered him an honest, lopsided grin. “A little.”

His smile slowly melted from his features, and he cleared his throat as he turned to face you head-on. “Well, this is probably going to sound weird, but you and I...” He swallowed, his gaze flashing. “We’re mates.”

You blinked, your lips parting in surprise. Something in your chest slowly expanded. “Mates?” you repeated softly.

He nodded, his expression firm yet hesitant. “Yes, mates. It means that in one way or another, our souls are connected.” Inhaling deeply, he screwed his eyes shut before continuing. “It’s a lot to take in, I know, but I just want you to know that you don’t have to accept the mating bond.” His voice was trembling now, growing quieter by the second as he squeezed his hands into fists at his side. “You don’t owe me anything. I know this must be scary for you, and the last thing I want is for you to feel pressured because of m—”

“I’m not afraid.”

Clay’s eyes shot wide open, and he raised his head, shock etched into his features. “You aren’t?” he whispered.

The smile on your face was open and kind, and you shook your head. “No,” you murmured, sincerity lacing your every word. “Not at all. Dream, Clay... no matter what your name is, you’re still you, and I know you.” You took another step forward, your eyes never leaving his. There was hardly any space between them now, and Clay could feel his shoulders begin to shake with the sheer gravity of the moment. “I can’t explain it, but I just know I do.”

He swallowed, a whirlwind of anxiety and affection brewing just beneath the surface of his skin. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I know I’m just a stranger to you.”

You shook your head, again. “You’re not,” you said quietly. “Not to me.”

Before he could even register what was happening, you were reaching for his hand, clasping your palms around his fingers and holding them gently. His heart flipped in his chest at the feeling of your skin against his, and something stung at the back of his eyes.

You were so warm.

“I want to do this,” you whispered, just for him to hear and him alone, “I promise. I—” You gulped, your gaze remaining steady. “I might not know anything about your world yet, but I want to learn.”

You squeezed his hand. “I want to learn more about you.”

Clay sucked in a ragged breath. With shaky fingers and a gentle touch, he pressed his other hand to the back of yours, squeezing back ever so slightly. “I want to learn more about you, too.”

The smile you flashed him easily outshone the sun and every star that scattered across the night sky, and for a moment, he thought his heart had stopped in his chest.

“I’m glad,” you said, your eyes gleaming with delight. “I think we’ll have plenty of time to do that on our hike.”

Right then, a breeze came drifting past, the distant scent of rain filling the air. The trees murmured with rustling leaves and flapping wings as two birds landed on a hanging branch above, gazing down at the two silhouettes standing at the base of the rock face. Just for a moment, or maybe even two, the entire forest went still.

And unbeknownst to you and Clay, right between your feet, a flower began to bloom.

786 notes · View notes

trashy28 · 3 years ago

Text

Get Some Rest (Tech x Reader) Pt 2

Warnings: anxiety, angst-y ?, mentions of death/near-death experiences, blood/gore, mentions of violence, fluff at the end i promise (i would say im sorry, but im not) (bet you didn't expect this right after a fluffy first part >:))

Pairing: Tech x GN!Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Part 1, Part 2

Summary: Oh no! It's a mission gone wrong trope! I wonder what could possibly be underneath this keep-reading cutoff! It totally cannot be where the reader and the bad batch go on a rescue mission only for something to go awry leading to treating injuries, and feelings.

"Everything is going to be okay. It will be alright. You got this y/n, you got this." You mumbled to yourself under your breath as you hid behind a convenience stall on some Outer Rim planet.

Something had gone wrong, VERY wrong. The mission was supposed to be easy: get in, get the prisoners, and get out, but it had all gone downhill faster than you could say dank farrik.

Earlier in the day, Tech had tapped into a secure Separatist transmission when messing around with his datapad. The Separatists were broadcasting a signal from a supposed neutral Outer Rim planet back to their base only a system away. They had taken the native people as prisoners and were going to use them for something, but none of you could figure out what. From then on, Hunter had taken charge, deciding that there was no time to ask for approval on the mission.

When the five of you reached the planet, you couldn't help but whisper to Tech next to you, "None of this seems right. If the Separatists did take these people as prisoners wouldn't there still be ships and droids?"

Tech simply looked at you before saying, "Not if they wanted to be secretive about it," and going back to his datapad.

You let out a huff. Things hadn't been that different between you two after the kiss you shared in the cockpit of the Havoc Marauder. When in private there would be shared tender moments, like there was nothing in the world that could come between you two, but with his brothers, Tech would regard you as the friend they all viewed you to be. They all knew something was going on between you two, and you had even taken it upon yourself to rant to Crosshair one night. He said he 'reluctantly' chose to listen, but he had calmed your anxious babbling about how you thought that Tech was embarrassed that you two were something now. That brought up another fact about how you two never addressed what you could call yourselves. Any time you tried to bring it up to Tech he would either cut you off with something else he was wildly researching, or one of his brothers would walk in and need either one of you. Crosshair's words did help to remind you that "That's just how Tech is sometimes. Clones were made to be fighters, not lovers." Leave it to him to say something like that. Out of every one of his brothers you knew he was the one who wanted a normal life the most even if he didn't show it.

As you and the rest of the group began your walk from the Marauder to the closest town you found yourself falling into step next to Wrecker instead of your usual placement besides Tech. Looking down at you, he asks, "Something bothering you? It sure looks like something is,"

Looking up to make eye contact with him you say, "I still don't feel like this is right. Everything seems to be falling into place too easily. This never happens to us!"

Wrecker turns his attention back to the surroundings passing a glance over the open area before stating, "Honestly, it is a little odd, but I trust the others and their intuition as much as yours."

The finality in his tone stood true as neither of you said anything for the rest of the walk into the town square. Walking past the empty booths would have been enough to send normal civilians running at the sight, everything was ruined. Curtains torn, fruit on the floor, and vendor booths destroyed. It was a depressing sight to see, but sadly one that the group was used to, it was a time of war after all.

After a little longer of walking and reaching the heart of the city, Hunter holds his fist up and all of the groups' motion ceases. "Tech," he says, "Can you pick up anything else from that transmission or anything that could give us a clue as to what else happened here?"

"I'm working on it, have been since we landed. The Separatists have scrambled all signals, so it’s taking me a while to try and find the frequency again," Tech answers before looking around the surrounding area, "As for what happened here, I think the evidence speaks for itself."

Hunter sighs before saying, "Alright, we'll split into two groups to cover more ground. Tech, and Wrecker you're with me. Crosshair and y/n, I expect no arguments coming out of this grouping."

Crosshair scoffs as you roll your eyes and make your way to stand next to him. "Didn't plan for arguments but maybe I'll start a few just to piss you off now," you say as you turn back towards Hunter.

"Just make it back here in one piece, we'll meet back up here at 1500, and if anybody is late, we assume they have gone missing and this was a trap," Hunter says before turning away and starting to walk down one of the many deserted alleys.

"Looks like we're stuck together again Cross," you let out before elbowing his side and starting to walk forward.

Following you and shoving a toothpick in his mouth he says, "As long as you don't complain about your problems with your boyfriend the whole time this might just be enjoyable."

"Yeah, yeah, let's just get going you karking toothpick lover."

It had only been around half an hour or so of walking before you and Crosshair could hear blaster fire in the distance. You ask, "Hey Cross, am I dehydrated, or is that actual blaster fire?" Turning around to face the said man, he already had his eyepiece down checking for heat signatures and was pulling you by your arm into a space between two buildings.

"There's nothing around us, but I'm assuming the others encountered some clankers. They must have found something because well, we found nothing and have no one after us," Crosshair states before tilting his helmet down to you and reading your facial expressions, "You want to go back and help them, don't you?"

"Of course I do Crosshair! Don't pretend that you don't want to either, I know how you care for your brothers. Let's just try to make it back without alerting any of those damn droids," you reply.

Crosshair tilts his head towards a stack of boxes and towards the roof of the buildings, you were situated between. "I think I have an idea."

"Why the hell did I let you come up with the idea to get back to your brothers. Running from roof to roof isn't exactly easy and leaves us out in the open," you complain before hopping another gap in-between roofs to catch up with Crosshair.

Crosshair stops short in front of you on the next roof almost causing you to walk into him before turning around to face you, "Look, I'm just as anxious as you to get back to them, but they are all capable enough to take care of themselves and I trust them with that. You of all people should know that as well," he spits angrily, and could almost hear a growl with his final punctuation.

"I know Crosshair, I get that you are worried, but I just can't help thinking that something had to go wrong. Let's just hope that my intuition is the wrong thing," You say before putting a hand on his shoulder, "C'mon, let's make this fast."

By the time you had made it back to the town square, to your luck, you still had not encountered any droids except for the ones who were scattered all over the floor in pieces.

"Looks like Hunter got to work on these guys," you say as you bend down to touch the large gash left by a vibro-knife in the torso of a droid.

Crosshair is examining another droid with its head ripped off only a few meters from you, "Looks like Wrecker got these guys too. But the question remains: where are Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech?"

At this, you paused and drew your focus away from the droid and instead survey the area, "The real question is, why is there no evidence of Tech fighting back? There are no electro-proton bombshells and even no blaster marks on any of these guys."

"Maybe they split up," Crosshair looks at you before pointing down one of the alleys.

"Fuck, I hope you're right."

It didn't take both of you that long to find Hunter and Wrecker, but it also didn't take long for another set of droids to ambush you. That's how you found yourself pressed behind the convenience stall mumbling under your breath. You had managed to take down a few droids but were forced to take cover. The others were still scattered around picking off droids one by one just as you remembered that Tech was still nowhere to be seen. Your mind was rushing faster than you could've ever thought trying to find out any idea as to where he could have gone.

Suddenly the blaster fire stopped as you heard a final clank from a droid hitting the ground. As you stood up you looked around cautiously, and deciding the coast was clear you jumped over the stall to group up with the rest of the bad batch.

As everyone began looking over each other there seemed to be only one thought shared between the group. This was a trap and Tech was gone.

Trying to alleviate the sour mood the group was plunging headfirst into you chuckled before saying, "You guys can finally say I was right now."

The others groaned before Hunter said, "Now is not the time y/n, Tech's missing and we have no clue where the kark he could be."

"You think I don't know that Hunter?" You let out through clenched teeth before continuing, "I'm just as worried as you are right now, but let's get somewhere where we don't have to worry about droids ambushing us."

Crosshair let out a sigh from beside you, "They're right. We won't be able to help Tech if we're dead so let's get back to the ship."

Picking up what he was putting down you finished for him, "We can re-group our thoughts on the Marauder, come up with a game plan, and then retrace our steps. It will do no good thinking while our minds are in 20 places at once."

Back on the ship all of you had gathered around the small datapad you placed in the middle of the table. "Alright, I tracked Tech's datapad's last known location to here, but who knows if it even with him," you say before zooming in on the location, "We can't guarantee that it would be safe either, we all know the number of clankers they sent after us just to try and keep us away."

"As long as I get to blow something up and get Tech out, anything is a good plan," Wrecker says before heading towards the back of the ship.

Crosshair nods at both you and Hunter before getting out of his seat to go and follow Wrecker.

"I know you're really worried, you don't hide your emotions that well," Hunter says while placing a hand on your shoulder.

"No shit Hunter," you start while rolling your eyes, "I'm worried about what might happen if we can't find him, or even if it's too late and he's already gone. I don't know what I would be able to do without him."

Hunter gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, "It will be okay y/n. For our sake and yours, let's think positively."

The four of you had made your way back into the town square better equipped and without a problem. You had some of your own plastoid armor on now for a bit of extra protection in case things decided to take an even stronger turn for the worst.

"The signal from the datapad is down the alley to the Northeast," you say while glancing up from your own datapad.

The group nods back at you as you continue your way down the alley. It was quiet, the tall sand-colored buildings surrounding you couldn't help but make you feel claustrophobic. The other alleys were not like this. They had seemed to be more open, with a lot fewer canopies, but this one had canopies blocking almost all the sun. It also didn't help that it was starting to get dark.

As you reached another intersection, Hunter held up his fist to signify everyone to stop. A wave of déjà vu flashed over you, and you prayed to any gods that would listen that you wouldn't split up again. After a few moments, Hunter turned to you and tilted his head to the side, to which you answered by pointing your hand to the alley to the right. In a whisper, you add, "If we continue straight down that alley, we should reach another intersection. Tech's datapad should be there."

The four of you continued walking again and when you reached the intersection you couldn't help but let out a strangled sob. There was a pool of blood on the farthest side of the intersection that was smeared on one side. Rushing up next to the blood, you stopped mere centimeters from it as your eyes caught sight of Tech's datapad. Your hands were shaking as you reached for it and you brushed a finger over one of the bloody fingerprints. "Oh shit," you say letting out a shaky breath. How could you have let this happen; how could you allow yourselves to walk right into a trap? Now Tech was gone, bleeding out, or dead, and there was no exact way to trace him.

You see Wrecker's hands wrap around your own but don't register the feelings. Your whole body has seemingly shut off and stopped processing the world around you. Wrecker takes the datapad from your hands and passes it to either Hunter or Crosshair. You are too shocked to care as you collapse to your knees. Wrecker is at your side on the ground in seconds and pulls you right into him. The plastoid armor that would bring you so much comfort as you used to hold Tech close only burned as tears began to fall from your face. The air was thick with remorse and regret, but you couldn't hold on to the fact that he could be dead. After a few somber minutes recollecting yourself, you pushed away from Wrecker and pushed yourself off the ground, offering a hand to Wrecker to assist him. Once both of you were up and you had cleaned the sand off your pants, you turned towards Hunter and Crosshair. They were silent as ever, Crosshair had taken a seat on of the nearby crates and had his head in his hands, and Hunter had taken to looking at Tech datapad.

Breaking the silence, you spoke first, "We can't just give up and believe he is dead," startling Crosshair causing him to jump in his seat.

"Yeah, we need to think he's still out there, that the Separatist kept him alive for information," Wrecker added, backing you up.

Hunter had turned back around waving the datapad, "They were smart enough to keep his datapad here, but they weren't smart enough to wipe any messages on it."

At this, you scrambled over to Hunter's side and pulled that datapad closer to your face. Displayed was an unsent message to you that contained various numbers. "Coordinates," you say breathlessly as Crosshair joins the rest of you standing in a haphazard circle around the datapad. Adding, you ask, "Do you think those are the coords of the base where they took the prisoners too?"

"Probably," Crosshair speaks for the first time since arriving at the intersection, "Let's hope Tech's there too."

Taking Tech's datapad from Hunter, Crosshair begins off in the direction leading away from Tech's bloodstain on the ground, but also opposite the way you came. The rest of you fall into step behind him and continue your way to your destination.

On the way following the coordinates, all four of you were on high alert, but no droids had come to attack you, relieving some of the stress. It didn't help relax you guys upon seeing the droids surrounding a large sandstone castle-like building. Stopping at the crest of a hill a while away from the makeshift Separatist base, Hunter and you took to scanning the surrounding area, while Crosshair and Wrecker began to formulate some form of attack.

"Once again, I can tell you're worried," Hunter said as you both had scopes pulled out to try and find any weak points in the droid formations.

"And once again, we all are Hunter. I just hope we aren't too late," You reaffirm before pointing at a space straight ahead, "Look, they're rotating shifts. Maybe we could find a way in on their next rotation."

Hunter turns to look at you before saying, "How would we know when the next rotation is?"

"I don't know, maybe figure out what time it is Mr. Survivalist," you taunt sarcastically.

Hunter scoffs before saying "It's 1900, we could use the fact that it's dark out now to our advantage. It could help us slip in and out undetected if we want."

Nodding before standing up, you say, "True, let's go tell the others and see if it can play into their plan."

Once getting back to Crosshair and Wrecker, all four of you focused on a plan and decided it was best to split into two groups to help divide the droid forces. There would be no surprise ambushes by the droids, but instead an ambush on them. You and Hunter taking the back way in, through the gap in droid shifts you noticed earlier, while Wrecker and Crosshair would work on some sort of distraction from the front.

Wrapping up the discussion of the plan one last time before separating Hunter adds, "Remember, this is a rescue mission. Once we have Tech and possible other prisoners we get out as fast as we can."

You, Wrecker, and Crosshair nodded before wishing each other luck as they walked off from your position.

"You ready y/n?" Hunter asks.

"Ready as I'll ever be," you say back to him as you two make your way towards your position.

Once situated towards the back of the building, Hunter commed Crosshair saying, "The droids are about to rotate positions, on my word start whatever distraction you have in mind."

The two of you waited on edge while the minutes drew on. After what felt like forever the droids finally began to move. At this, Hunter commed Crosshair again with finality, saying, "Now."

From your position, you could see the blast from the explosives Wrecker had set off, along with the heavy concentration of blaster fire. The droids that were covering the area where you and Hunter immediately went to act as reinforcement to those affected by the blast.

Hunter and you ran from your location to the back of the building, quickly finding an open window. Pulling the window open more, you forced your way inside as Hunter followed. The room was empty, and most of the lights were off. Pulling out a flashlight you scanned it across the floor quickly before turning it off again to not be spotted, even if there was a small chance of that.

"It looks like we are in some type of living room," Hunter says before making his way away from the window and peeking his head around the corner of the door and into the hallway. "The hallway's clear, I would say split up to cover more floors, but seeing what happened last time I told everyone to split up... I don't think that's a good idea."

Nodding you made your way over to him to look out into the hallway as well. "I say we go to the basement if there is one. It would make sense to keep people prisoner there," You say before stepping foot into the hallway.

"Yeah, but the only problem is finding stairs that could lead to a basement," Hunter says while stepping into place behind you.

"It shouldn't be that hard, plus if Tech was still bleeding by the time, he got here, wouldn't you think there would be a trail of blood where they brought him?" You shuddered while stating the possibility out loud, just as Hunter made a noise of acknowledgment.

After what felt like hours of walking the hallways on high alert, and checking most rooms as you come across them, you staggered trying to stop yourself from walking as you finally caught sight of some blood on the ground. "Hunter," you whispered, "Look."

Hunter looked around your form to get a glance at what you were looking at, before shining his flashlight down the rest of the hall. "There's a trail too," he said while keeping his flashlight trained on the spots of blood.

"C'mon," You say as you grab him by the hand and pull him the rest of the way down the hallway.

Stopping at the end of the said hallway you are greeted by stairs to the left of you, and you turn to Hunter before silently agreeing to walk town together in sync. The stairs were solid sandstone, so you didn't have to worry about any creaky stairs, but you did have to worry about footing. Pulling out your vibro-knives at the same time as Hunter, you two started making your way down the stairs. The sight that waited for you and the bottom of the short walk would stick in your head forever. The basement was one single connected holding cell, with prisoners lined up against the bars trying to get a look at you. Some of them were crying, others wailing in pain, and some had fallen into silent spells. Noticing this, Hunter and you quickly put your knives away before you rushed to the gate with the main lock at it. While you made fast work of the lock and quickly picked it, Hunter had begun reassuring the people that we were here for help and that he was looking for someone who looked like us. With the gate, open people poured out in a mass exodus and began to make their way upstairs, without a single care of what could happen to them.

Once almost everyone was out, you and Hunter made your way into the cell where you were greeted with another terrible sight. Tech was there on a stone table in the middle of a cell with one of them, now freed, prisoners hovering over him. His armor was off and tossed to the side as he was only in his blacks, and he had a bacta patch wrapped around his torso. You rushed over to him as Hunter escorted the prisoner out of the cell and couldn't help but let out a sob for the second time today. Tech looked frail, and you hesitated to even reach out to touch him fearing that it would break him. You were immediately relieved after placing two fingers on his wrist and feeling his pulse. It was weak, but it was still there. "Hunter! I need some help down here," you call out before starting to run around the table to grab Tech's armor. Hunter came running back down the stairs at your call and once you saw him you continued, "I need you to carry him out of here. I'll get his armor, but we need to move fast before the droid realize that this was all a diversion."

At this Hunter makes his way to Tech's side without a word and picks him up and slings him over his shoulder. Grabbing the final pieces of Tech's armor, both of you begin to make your way up to the stair. Tapping the comlink on your wrist you hear blaster fire permeate through the room around you. "Crosshair, we got Tech. If I know Wrecker, he probably has some explosives, so as soon as we get out of the house, give him the word to blow this place up."

"Got it," Crosshair says before the comlink closes with a beep.

"Let's try a nearby window and get out of here as fast as we can before we tell them to set the chargers," you say to Hunter as you force your way ahead of him and into the closest room. Hunter follows you before grunting as a noise of approval. Making your way to the window, you grab Tech's helmet from where it sat under your arm and smashed it. Hunter gives you an exasperated look as he walks past you and out the window first, to which you only say, "What? It was a lot easier than putting everything down and opening it.

Once both of you are outside, you make your way to the location where you two started the mission. Reaching the spot a few meters away, you open the com with Crosshair again, "Crosshair, tell Wrecker to light it up. Now!"

Instead of getting an actual response as an answer, you could hear the various explosions coming from the area behind you.

"Nice work you two but meet up with us where we made camp before, it will be quicker to get back to the Marauder with Wrecker carrying Tech," You say into the com again before forcing yourself to walk in the direction of the temporary camp from before.

"Rodger that," Both Crosshair and Wrecker's voices come through the comlink before the transmission ends again with a beep.

The four of you, plus an unresponsive Tech, met up quickly and rushed back to the Marauder as soon as you could. Reaching the ship was a relief as Hunter had immediately gone into the cockpit and got you guys off the planet, and Wrecker took Tech to the bunks with you in tow with medical supplies.

Once Wrecker placed Tech on his respective bunk, you immediately rushed him out of the room and got to work. Removing the hastily applied bacta patch, you assessed the wound that Tech had got before he was captured. It was nasty at first glance, but you assumed it was even worse before he had the first batch patch applied. The cut ran from his left shoulder across his torso, coming to finally stop at the bottom of his right ribs. Luckily, the cut wasn't that deep, because there would have been hardly a chance, he would've survived that. Continuing your work, you cleaned the wound before wrapping it up again in another bacta patch. Standing up and observing the handiwork of your terrible medical experience, you run a full body scan with your datapad just to check for any other injuries that could internal. Thankfully, the scan came up negative and you could assume that Tech had just passed out due to blood loss. He still looked extremely pale as you stood there and stared at him, but some color was starting to return to his body.

Sitting back down, you grasped his hand in yours and looked at both hands together. As the weight of the day's events slowly started the catch up with you, you could hardly help yourself as you began to fall asleep. In a state of half-consciousness, you could've sworn you felt Tech's hand squeezing yours, but you were too tired to even process the notion that he might've.

The feeling of someone pulling your hand to their lips pulled you out of your nap and caused you to pick your head up from the side of Tech's bunk.

"Good morning Tech," you said before you could even process what was happening, but as soon as the words left your mouth your head snapped up and your eyes immediately widened. "Tech! You're up!"

Tech let out a breathy chuckle before trying to force his way up, only for you immediately to place your hand on his good shoulder and force him back down, "Nope, no getting up for you just yet. You had us all worried sir," you say while shifting your position to get a better look at him.

"I never meant to cause you guys any trouble," he says sincerely, "We had all got split up when those droids attacked us, and they caught me by surprise by sending in reinforcements."

"It's okay Tech, you don't need to justify your actions, you're alive and here back on the Marauder with us. That is all that matters," you say before gripping his hand again and squeezing it.

"Y'know while the droids were dragging me away as I was bleeding out, I couldn't help but focus on one thing," he says while squeezing your hand in return.

"Oh? And what was that?" You ask with a smile on your face.

Tech smiles back at you before bringing your hand to his lips again and placing a firm kiss on your knuckles, "I couldn't stop thinking about how I hadn't told you how much I love you."

Freezing in your place at the combinations of the words and the sincerity in Tech's tone, you couldn't help but find yourself smiling wider at what he had said. "I love you too Tech, too much. I thought I had lost you today but I'm so glad I didn't," you say with finality in your tone.

Leaning down to place a kiss on his lips you find yourself in a state of relief. Tech was back and safe out of harm's way, and he really does love you. Pulling away from the kiss, but still holding eye contact with him you say, "You still need to rest up, and don't think that kissing me will be a distraction."

Tech rolls his eye and lets out a groan before smirking and saying, "Well after I'm all healed you better make it up to me."

You smack his leg and let out a huff of frustration and as you go to walk out of the room you say, "We'll see about that one Tech. We'll see."

taglist: @bandaid-bunny @haloangel391

a/n: once again i feel like this is meh but i still dont know. i meant to have this done 2 days ago but almost passed out because of my second dose of the covid vaccine, plus i had a 6 page paper due so likeeee. anyway TAKE THIS right after the new episode, also if you guys watched it already... HOLY SHITTTT 🙏

#the bad batch x reader #the bad batch #bad batch #bad batch x reader #tech x reader #clone trooper tech x reader #bad batch tech x reader #tech bad batch #tech bad batch x reader #the clone wars #clone trooper tech

164 notes · View notes

dandelionflower · 4 years ago

Text

She hikes alone

Marinette skipped to her friends, tapping Adrien on the shoulder before hugging him tight.

“Hey, Princess,” he gave her a smile that melted her heart, “we were just talking about things we could do on our free day.”

He gestured to the class, who were all deep in a debate over ice cream place or pizza parlor.

“I was thinking we could go to a park; a new friend of mine has a couple of places we could check out. I think it would be really good as a lazy activity to get rid of jet lag, or in Kim’s case, excess energy.”

“Sounds really nice!” He smiled and began to open his mouth to tell them; he had become Marinette’s representative to the class, when Lila stood up.

“Hey guys! What if, since today doesn’t have anything planned, we went to a park and hung out?”

“That’s a genius idea, Lila!”

“I could play frisbee!”

“I’d enjoy observing the local flora.”

That’s genius Lila. You’re so smart. Marinette growled under her breath, Lila obviously overheard her talking with Adrien and took credit for her idea.

“I actually know some parks we could go to, from when I visited with Jagged Stone a few months back. We could go to one of those, if you want?”

“That sounds great Lila!” Adrien cut in before Marinette could protest. “Let’s go now!”

“Don’t worry,” he whispered to her as the class cheered and stood up, “I’ll make sure we go to a nice park.”

That’s not what I’m worried about. Marinette thought as she watched Lila attach herself to Adrien’s arm.

She followed at a fair distance from the class; not by choice, her friends just seemed to speed up whenever she tried to walk near them.

“Marinette!” Grace tapped on her shoulder, a broad grin on her face. She was wearing the headband. “Where did you decide on going?”

“A park.”

“That’s great! Which one are you going to? Because if you haven’t decided, I have a ton of great places for you to go...” she plucked some pamphlets from her back pocket and displayed one. “I think this one would suit your needs best.”

“Thanks, Grace, but...” Marinette spared a glance at the pack of students, led by Lila and Adrien. “I think it’s already been decided.”

Grace’s expression soured. “Okay, but keep ahold of that pamphlet, will you? You might end up finding time to go.”

“I hope I do.” She waved Grace a quick goodbye and dashed back to her friends, who were already going through the door.

—

They hopped on a bus and Marinette smirked as Lila worried her lip, eyes darting towards every sign that could possibly lead her to a park.

As fun as that was, Marinette quickly got bored and began perusing the pamphlet Grace handed to her.

Quarry Stone Park

Known for its towering pillars of black stone, it is rumored that Quarry Stone Park was where the brick for the famed Culpa Manor was mined.

While the parks naming is rather obvious, it also contains many hidden paths, leading to waterfalls, gem-filled caves, and even the ocean.

A popular landmark of the park is Quarry Ledge, which overlooks the ocean. The natural black spires and stark white sands make for an amazing view.

That’s where we should be going, Marinette mused, not wherever Lila’s going to take us.

“Here we are!” Lila sang. “The best park in the whole town.”

Sure... Marinette glanced at the rotting wooden sign, the crumbling letters reading, Wooded Glade Park.

The class ran in, Alix already tossing a frisbee for Kim to catch. Adrien fell back and greeted Marinette with a silent smile and had just grabbed her hand when everyone fell silent and stared at the open field surrounded by borderline rotting trees.

“Uhh, Lila?” Ivan asked, shielding Mylene’s eyes from the mistreated plants. “Are you sure this is he place? It looks a little run down.”

“Definitely!” Lila protested, and though her back was facing Marinette, she could almost see the false tears welling up in her eyes. “I- I don’t know what happened; it used to be so beautiful... I’m so sorry everyone.”

“What if we helped you clean it up?” Rose offered. “Got rid of any trash and planted some flowers!”

“Yeah!” The class cheered, voicing their agreement.

“You- you would all do that for me?”

“Of course!”

“I can’t believe this! I... thank you!”

Mylene pulled Ivan’s hand from her eyes and glared at the offending trees. “Babe? I need a lift.”

Ivan picked her up and placed her onto his shoulders.

“Alright everybody!” She shouted, voice abnormally loud. “I need someone to carry heavy stuff, a couple people for trash and, Marinette! Can you organize our efforts?”

She smiled and was about to pull out her notebook, when Lila opened her mouth, which had proven to be a tragedy in itself.

“I don’t know guys, remember how late Marinette came in? She didn’t even get to have breakfast, we don’t want to tire her out what with the jet lag and all. I can just organize, you know I was an organizer to a famous charity.”

“That’s a great idea, Lila! I’ll help!” Adrien leaned over to whisper in Marinette’s ear. “Don’t worry, I can keep her out of trouble while you just relax and walk down one of the trails, it’s a win-win.”

But I want to walk the trails with you...

She smiled, gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked to the closest trail as fast as she could so Adrien couldn’t see the tears collecting in her eyes.

She loved how selfless Adrien was, she did. It was just... he never seemed to choose her.

She stood there for a moment and allowed herself to cry. This was supposed to be a fun trip where she could hang out with her boyfriend and friends as they all explored her favorite place in the world.

Marinette finally looked up and observed the signs marking the different paths she could take.

Daisy Walkway.

Riverside.

Quarry Stone Path.

Quarry Stone?

Marinette pulled out her pamphlet and compared the names.

Maybe I will get to see Quarry Stone after all.

—

It was a fair hike to Quarry Stone, but it was so worth it.

The trees were lush and green, every bench and table were in perfect condition, people were everywhere, and interspersed across the field were dozens of giant black pillars of rock.

Marinette gave a glance to the other trails.

Waterfalls, meadows, beachside.... there were so many choices.

“Excuse me, sir?” She touched the arm of a nearby elderly man, who was exiting one of the trails. “I was wondering, do you know these trails well? Could you maybe recommend one to me?”

“Never been to Quarry Stone, have you dear?” He gave her a friendly smile.

“No.”

“Well, when I was young and adventurous, I would go on the Nymph’s River path. On a sunny day like this, it’s sure to be a magical sight.”

“It’s cloudy, you old coot!”

A frail old woman in a worn pink dress stumbled from the same path.

“What?” The man put on a thick pair of spectacles and squinted at the sky. “So it is.”

“I’m Henry’s wife, Meredith, and what’s your name, sweetie?”

“I’m Marinette. It’s nice to meet you.” She grinned at the familiar banter that reminded her of her parents.

“Likewise, dear.” A bony hand grasped her own. “Now, what’s a little thing like you doing out here all alone?”

“Um, my class, we’re here on a field trip and we had… a disagreement on what to do.”

“Ah, and they let you do your thing but it’s not as fun alone, is it?”

“No, not really.”

“I’ve got just the place for you dear. Henry, what about...” she leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“You’re a genius, Mere. Kiddo, just go down that path,” he pointed her to the forest, “and I promise it will be a sight worth seeing.”

“Okay, thank you both so much!” She waved to the couple as she headed down the path, memorizing their faces in case they encounter one another again.

—

It truly was a sight worth seeing, as promised.

When Marinette finally broke out of the dark greens in the surrounding the trail, she was met by the most soothing sight she’d ever laid eyes on.

She was standing on a large ledge carved out of the hill; metal posts and railings were surrounding the platform. Nothing noteworthy.

But the sight it was there to show was unimaginably perfect. The sand was a pure white, which would have been blinding if it wasn’t for the clouds covering the sun. The stone spires that decorated the entire forest were dotting the beach in all their splendor, rising proudly and casting barely noticeable shadows across the sand and the pale, rolling waves.

She leaned on the railing; taking in the soothing spectacle. It was almost like she was falling asleep, her consciousness drifting until she had no other thought but the muted colors in front of her...

“Meow?”

Marinette screamed and leapt away from the sound, pushing her back against the railing and gripping it with both hands likes she was on a crashing elevator.

A black cat with startling blue eyes stared at her, tilting its head in a quizzical motion.

“Mrrrrrr.” Was its only reaction to her panic.

“He- hello?”

It stared at her waved hand, like it was the most interesting thing it had seen.

She held it out tentatively, in an open gesture, leaving enough space for it to leave.

It stared at it for a moment longer before tentatively leaning forwards to place its head in her palm. It purred as she scritched its chin.

“What’s your name, kitty?” She mused. “Garfield? Like the Culpa that started the mansion?”

It leaned its head into her pinky in a silent gesture to go on.

“Harriet? Darrian? Abigail?”

No cigar.

“What about Culpa?”

The cat purred and nuzzled her hand with a vigor.

“Culpa it is.” She brought her other hand to pet at the newly-christened Culpa’s ear.

Culpa mewled with a satisfaction that seemed... almost human on the face of the pitch cat.

—

The rest

@miraculous-of-salt @calliopeia @drama-queen-supreme @kaydenth3gayden @mcheang @nomiegnome @never-say-donuts @vixen-uchiha @miracul0us-multishipper @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @chocolatecustarddanish @iwantswifttoblessmysoul @digitalmagpie @ilseofskadi @nerdy-and-a-little-birdy @minty-goose @nataladriana9 @aestheticnpoetic @constellation-king @animegirlweeb @persephonebutkore @ahalloweengirl @r0sebutch @marinettepotterandplagg @beelzzebop @akalovelymaybe @pleasefollowmeuwu @angelost4r @constancetruggle @speaknowtome @some-oxymoron @nerdy-scifi-birdy @toodaloo-kangaroo @purplesundaze @aestheticnpoetic @neptuningkai @2confused-2doanything

#felinette #ml felix #felix culpa #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ml marinette #ml adrien #lila salt #class salt #adrien salt #ml lila #lila rossi #haunted mansion au #adrienette #ml class #ml alya #guess who this cat is...

714 notes · View notes

sapphirelycoris · 3 years ago

Text

𝑨 𝑩𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝑨𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 & 𝑨𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕: 𝑰

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Suggestive lines, pining (like a lot because Enji's a simp), enemies to lovers style writing, weird 19th century type dialogue but I think it's still readable. Please tell me if I missed any.

Ship: Enji Todoroki x female reader (she/her)

Word count: 2,707

Music: Pride & Prejudice Music & Ambiance

Author's note: I know some of the character's relationships with others are kind of weird but I casted them according to personality. For example, Ryuko reminds me of Charlotte Lucas and Nejire reminds me of her little sister, Maria. I just kind of threw names around haha... A NSFW and continuation soon to come. God, it's been a while since I posted anything on this blog.

Written/created for: @pleasantanathema's Through Ink and Quill | A Classics Collab

Summary: A Pride and Prejudice inspired piece, featuring Enji Todoroki as the male love interest. Loosely following the plot of the actual novel with a few twists on the actual story's dialogue, characters, & events. When you meet Mr. Enji Todoroki, he was the last man in the world you'd ever want to be around. However, as your paths cross more and more, you see that your first impression of him was inaccurate.

"The world works in mysterious ways. He doesn’t know what happened and when it began. Suddenly, Enji cannot stop longing to be in the same room with you. To go one more moment without you seemed like a sin or some unbearable divine punishment for his greatest flaw: pride."

𝑉𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, 𝑡𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑔𝘩 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑦𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑠��𝑦. 𝐴 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑦 𝑏𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑣𝑎𝑖𝑛. 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑜𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑠; 𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦, 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝘩𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑢𝑠. -𝐽𝑎𝑛𝑒 𝐴𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛

The world works in mysterious ways. He doesn’t know what happened and when it began. Suddenly, Enji cannot stop longing to be in the same room with you. He dreamed about the sight of your eyes, glancing at him with mild contempt. You occupied his thoughts, both innocent and indecent… He was going to go mad if you didn’t share the same affections that he did. He didn’t want you. Not at all. He needed you by his side. To go one more moment without you seemed like a sin or some unbearable divine punishment for his greatest flaw: pride.

When he blatantly insulted you at the first gathering he attended and saw you laugh about it with Ryuko, for once, he felt uneasy. The same woman he had slighted was now the one who controlled him. He noticed the way you looked embarrassed at your family’s antics. It disgusted him that he was obsessing over someone with that kind of background.

It certainly shocked Enji when you stood him up at Sir Yorio’s gathering. How dare you! For him to stoop down and offer to dance with you, only for you to reject him, was truly offensive. A woman far below his social status, refusing to stand up with him. The nerve.

Every single snarky quip that left your lips swam around in his mind. Your sharp tongue was attractive. The moment he saw you with mud on your dress, walking from your home to Toshinori’s country estate, he was taken aback. For some reason, he couldn’t get rid of that image. The sun hit your face perfectly, creating an enchanting glow that accompanied your delightful countenance.

“Ms. (L/N).” Your name rolled off his lips so naturally.

The regrettable moment you had to leave Toshinori’s estate, he helped you into the carriage which would take you home. Something transpired, far beyond his comprehension. Your hand fit so perfectly in his, he couldn’t help but want it to stay there forever. The missing piece to a puzzling man such as himself finally found its way to its rightful spot. It seemed you wished for the same thing. His grip was secure, he felt safe, and you were trapped, staring into the most beautiful cerulean eyes. At the same time, Enji could drown in your eyes forever. The confused look you gave him was endearing when he refused to let go.

His actions also startled him. Why was he so stuck on you? He flexed his hand, imagining that yours never left as he watched the carriage shrink, moving further from the manor and into the distance. When was the next time he would be allowed to see you? What was it going to take to cure this infatuation?

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

The next time he saw you, was under more unfortunate circumstances. He was riding downtown with Toshinori when he spotted your little party. Unlike his friend, Enji looked unhappy when he saw who you were talking with. You briefly exchanged eye contact with him before he had a clear look of disdain displayed on his face.

Keigo’s eyes followed yours. He tipped his hat, but Enji made no attempt to return the friendly gesture. He hurried away on his horse without saying a word. The encounter was certainly unusual. Keigo looked discomforted by the interaction. You wondered what could have transpired between the two men that caused such tension.

That night, at your aunt’s home, you sat down and heard what Keigo had to say about his reunion with Enji. He told his side of the story. He painted Enji as the villain in his narrative. Seeing as how you already found the man so disagreeable, you couldn’t help but believe Keigo’s words. He was much more forthcoming than his old friend; he didn’t seem capable of telling a lie. This new story caused you to see Enji in a new light, only deepening your dislike for the man.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Toshinori was a man of his word and held the ball that he promised your sisters. Enji was less unenthusiastic than he usually was. Knowing that he’d get to see you there was the night’s one redeeming feature. He was excited at the thought of getting to lay his eyes on you once more, and it sickened him.

Many of the officers were attending the ball. While linking arms with Toshinori and walking around the ballroom, you searched for Keigo among the redcoats the officers wore. Instead of finding him, you found a pair of familiar blue eyes that looked at you with well-hidden passion and yearning. Enji wanted to tear you away from Toshinori’s arms and have you all to himself. He had many selfish desires, and he usually got what he wanted, but you were the exception.

Women fawned over him, trying to get a taste of his money. Even Rei tried being overly friendly with him. He cared little for them; he wasn’t looking to fall in love. He was not in search of a wife. Enji was quite content with the life he had. Everything he wanted was in his grasp. But you? You were so close yet so far. There was an uncomfortable amount of emotional space between you and he wanted to close it. Being in the same room wasn’t enough anymore. He wanted to touch you, feel your skin, claim those alluring lips for himself. He wanted to see your whole being without any pesky fabric in the way. If only he could rip that dress off of your body after forcefully pulling you into a vacant bedroom.

He made his way over to you, but an officer blocked his view. He informed you that Keigo would not be in attendance. Part of it was because of an assignment he had to do, but he also wanted to avoid a certain man… Your younger sisters drug the officer away, leaving you alone in the middle of a crowded room.

Fortunately, you spotted Ryuko, who was standing alone in the corner. You went to inform her of everything that had happened lately. An unwelcome guest interrupted you.

“Ryuko, may I introduce you to my cousin, Mr. Tobita?” While remaining civil, you introduced them to each other. He took your hand and led you to dance. As it turns out, the man can’t dance. He went the wrong way, bumping into another lady. It was embarrassing, to say the least.

Enji watched in amusement as he saw you struggle to keep a smile. You made eye contact with him again, almost sending him a look of desperation. Dancing with him would be better than your current situation. He simply smirked and waltzed around the room, observing everyone.

While you were busy venting to Ryuko, the very man you were talking about came up to you. The two of you exchanged glances and bowed. “If you are not otherwise engaged, would you do me the honor of dancing the next with me?” Enji’s odd invitation made your eyes widen slightly.

There was no way out of it. You tried coming up with an excuse, but nothing came to mind. He smiled slyly as you fumbled over your words. “I- well I hadn’t... yes. Thank you…” With no escape, you were trapped. He walked off, and you lingered behind for a minute.

“You’d be a fool if you didn’t take him up on his offer. It’s a great compliment that he singled you out.” Ryuko commented.

“The last time he singled me out was to slander me. Hateful man…” you hissed before going to follow him.

As the music started to play, you studied Enji’s face. It was the first time you’d ever really taken the time to analyze all of his features. You hated to admit it, but he was handsome. Unusually handsome.

Finally, your hand had made its way back into his. Even if it was only for a brief moment, that feeling would stick with him until the end of the night. The two of you danced around with your words, conversing back and forth when the time was appropriate. You simply couldn’t bear the silence.

Couples pranced around the dance floor elegantly, stepping where they needed to. You two moved in sync, never letting your eyes wander. There was a burning passion for the man that you couldn’t get rid of. Whether it was burning hatred, lust, or love, you couldn’t tell. Hostility and tension seemed to be all that came out of your encounters with him. The sexual tension was the one thing that kept you from completely despising Enji and you hated it.

In an attempt to rile him up, you remarked on Keigo and the last time Enji saw you. “The last time I was in town, I was forming a new acquaintance.” A sly grin spread across your face as the words came out.

“Mr. Takami’s friendly personality is what allows him to make friends so easily. Though his ability to keep them is debatable.”

“How unfortunate he must be, to lose your friendship, a loss I am sure he will regret for the rest of his life.” You mocked in an airy and hushed tone. Before Enji could snap back, Mr. Toyomitsu came over to hint at a marriage between your sister and Toshinori. The two of you glanced at the smiling pair before dancing again. “Didn’t you say that you rarely ever forgave? That your hatred, once set in stone, was set indefinitely? Surely a man such as yourself is careful when breeding such hatred.”

“Of course I am.” Enji scoffed.

“And I presume you do not let prejudice blind you?”

“No. What is the purpose of these questions, if I may ask?” He grumbled, disliking your inquiries.

“Simply a means to figure out your constitution.” You laughed, “Trying to get a good idea of your character.”

“And your findings?”

“None. I have heard of you on different accounts by different people with different views of you. You shall remain a mystery until I comprehend you.”

With the dance ending, Enji remained silent. Once the music faded, he supported your hand as you lightly held it over his. “I request that you do not attempt to perceive my character right now. It would do us no favors if you judged wrong.” He claimed as you left the dance floor.

“I may not get another opportunity, so I might as well try while I have the chance.”

Enji placed himself right next to you and leaned to whisper in your ear. He lowered his voice, making sure only you could hear. “I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours.” His finger brushed against your arm as he walked away. All the heat in your body rushed to that spot. You wanted his warmth against your skin, you didn’t want him to go.

And yet, you were standing alone in the corner of a crowded room, fixated on the man who you swore to never like.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Much had happened over a short amount of time. You had rejected Mr. Tobita’s marriage proposal and got an earful from your mother. Keigo got engaged to a rich young lady, and Ryuko had gotten engaged to Mr. Tobita. Enji and Toshinori’s party had left his estate, and your sister was disheartened. Everyone had such high expectations for her and Toshinori, only for him to up and leave.

Now, you were on your own adventure. You, Sir Yorio, and Nejire were going to visit her and Mr. Tobita. They lived in a small house on Lady Chiyo’s property. Greenery grew on the stone, adding to the natural feel of the house. It was a quaint little grey structure with a clear blue sky in the background.

As soon as the carriage stopped, Ryuko and her husband rushed out the door to greet you. They showed you to your rooms while Mr. Tobita kept on about Lady Chiyo’s house and how grand it was. It seemed he was more in love with Chiyo than his own wife.

“Are you happy here?” You asked Ryuko as you watched the other three walk around the garden.

“I am quite content with my situation. I barely see him during the day. He sits in his book room, walks to Lady Chiyo’s every day, and-”

“And you prefer to sit in your own wing of the house.” You finished. Whether it was what she was going to say or not, you stated your mind. Ryuko smiled wistfully, “Yes.”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

While you and Ryuko were walking through the woods, along with Nejire, Mr. Tobita came running after you. He was clearly out of breath but told you his news, anyway. Enji and his cousin, Kugo, had arrived. He urged you to make your way back to the house, since they wanted to visit with them.

“Pleasure to finally meet you Ms. (L/N).” Kugo smiled.

“Oh? ‘Finally’, sir?”

“My cousin speaks of you often.” He informed.

“Ah…” You sighed, looking over at Enji who met your gaze, only hungrier.

Enji’s eyes never left you, though. There was a protective aura emitting from him. Just in case Kugo spoke or acted out of line, he was ready to come to your aid at any moment. He rested his knuckles against his mouth. Instead of addressing anyone else in the room, he was intently watching and listening to your conversation.

“Pray tell, why is Mr. Todoroki staring at me?” You asked Kugo, having enough of being watched over like you were some kind of prey, “Have I done or said something he finds offensive?”

The man stood up from the sofa and meandered over to the table you were seated at. He had no control of his own actions. It was quite an impulsive move, and now he didn’t know what to say. “How is your family?” He choked out.

“Well.” You replied, “My sister has been in town for quite some time. Have you happened to see her?”

“No.” Enji lied, “Unfortunately not.”

“As you can tell, Mr. Todoroki and I are not very close.”

“Really? I find that hard to believe.” Kugo exclaimed.

“Truly? I believe in first impressions, however, Mr. Todoroki’s good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.” Your words caused him to turn around, and he saw your smiling face, making a joke of him.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

The grounds of Lady Chiyo’s property were breathtaking. When the weather allowed, you took advantage of the sprawling greenery and went out for as many walks as you could. Without a cloud in the sky, an endless sea of blue, and shining sun, you wasted no time in getting outside. It was much more productive and enjoyable than sitting in the house.

A beautiful little trail, hidden by the estate’s magnificent trees, was the path you found yourself walking along. You looked up to admire how tall the trees had grown. They stood proud and provided you with shade. The birds sang a lovely little tune, supplying you with a unique sound that rivaled that of the best musicians.

Enji came trotting through the path from the side. He halted his horse once he saw you. No painting could do you justice, even one made by the best painter in the world could compare to your beauty in person. The sight of you admiring the picture in front of you made his heart pound. Though you said nothing, he believed that you, taking the time to simply look at him, was the greatest compliment he would ever receive.

And for those few precious minutes, he drank in your appearance. He was hopelessly in love with you. Being in your presence was the best part of his day. He found himself looking forward to seeing you. He always prayed for you to cross paths with him. Even if he simply caught a glimpse of you, suddenly it brightened his entire day.

Unfortunately, he had other things to do. Enji spurred his horse forward and trotted away. Your presence in his life was much bigger than he expected when he first met you. And somehow… he didn’t mind it. He hated yet loved the feeling of being in love.

#endeavor x reader #bnha endeavour #endeavor #todoroki enji #enji todoroki x reader #todoroki endeavor #enji x reader #enji x you #19th century #shitty writing but it's something #I kind of hate this but I hate everything I write #my hero academia enji #endeavor x y/n #I am disgusted at myself for being so late to submit this for the collab #Pleasantanathema forgive me.#What's up with the shitty title #not proof read forgive the shitty grammar and punctuation

33 notes · View notes

ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 3 years ago

Text

It Takes Me All the Way

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: This is my fic for my @starkerfestivals summer BINGO “flower shop au” square. The following idea hit me in the head a couple of days ago & I couldn’t let it go until the whole thing was written. Here’s my bingo card - if you see something on there you might want written, shoot me a message!!! Word Count: 11.5K Warnings: There’s a tiny bit of smut in here, but it’s me writing, so when is that not the case?

Summary:

'For the next half an hour, Peter learned about flower language and the subtle way to artfully layer flowers so the colors blended meaningfully together. Peter didn’t retain too much about the flowers themselves – they were beautiful and coordinated perfectly, but Tony out shone them all. He was obviously in his element; the simple way the information fell from his mouth spoke of years of study and tons of hands-on knowledge. Not only was the man smart, he had an eye for style and created little living masterpieces without much thought.

By the time Peter worked up the courage to make any sort of move, they were at the register, seconds away from a complete transaction. He was in too deep to let the spark between them go another time. Steeling himself for whatever might come, Peter took a deep breath and leapt. “Hey, before I go – would you like to go out with me sometime?"'

Or: the one where Tony's a florist and Peter kind of digs that.

Read on AO3 here.

----

After taking home the third, consecutive NCA Championship title, Peter craved a tame summer. Unlike the rest of his teammates, he had no dreams of furthering his cheerleading career by becoming a coach; while everyone else flocked to the NCA cheer champ coaching positions, Peter tried his hardest to create some distance between himself and the sport.

Of course, that was easier said than done when his very best friend was also a teammate. Since the day MJ pulled him off the gymnastics mat and thrust him not so gently into the world of cheer in seventh grade, Peter never looked back – not to gymnastics or the people he left behind. He didn’t naturally fit in with anyone, but with MJ by his side and an incredible amount of athleticism, high school passed by in a whirlwind of football games, competitions, and a rich education Peter clung to. Being smart was a way out of the conservative little town that would never accept the truth of who Peter truly was.

When Purdue became an option for the both of them, Peter immediately understood moving to Indiana was the next step in life’s adventure. It wasn’t the big city that he always imagined he’d escape to, but Peter couldn’t argue with a full ride academic scholarship and a spot earned on the cheer team. As a male with tumbling experience and a shocking amount of strength for his size, Peter didn’t have to wonder about his spot on the team – he’d been leading teams to competition wins for years. Stepping out of the narrow-minded world of Springfield, Missouri was the only thing that mattered; the ability to do what he wanted without worrying about where the money came from to do it – that was just a delightful bonus.

Despite the challenges of college athletics and a philosophy major, Peter managed to keep his close friendship with MJ. They’d been a stunting pair for ages and their similarities made it easy to not only be around each other but stay tight knit in their connection. Going through so many of the trials of growing up together, Peter didn’t know what life would be like without her. After coming out and receiving nothing but a hug and a shy “me too”, their bond was cemented – made permanent in a way that something shared tied one person to another.

Their undying friendship and ridiculous commitment to each other was how he found himself balls deep in wedding planning, instead of relaxing in the peace and quiet of his one-bedroom apartment, playing video games and reading all the books he didn’t get to crunch out during the busy school year. MJ didn’t even bother asking him to be her ‘man’ of honor – after popping the question to Darcy, she simply sent him a list of things to do and dove right in.

Between bachelorette parties, bridal showers, and the seemingly impossible hunt for the best bridesmaid’s dresses, Peter hadn’t spent more than a couple days of the break on his own. Though he loved the fuck out of MJ and her soon-to-be wife, he couldn’t wait for the wedding to come and go. A little peace and alone time was exactly what he needed.

Finally, after a week of long nights and last-minute errands, the big day was upon them. The beautiful ranch venue radiated with a rich sunshine, basking the place in a lucky sort of golden glow. Since he didn’t have to spend his entire morning trapped in a makeup chair, Peter got to enjoy the beautiful weather firsthand as he contributed to the set up and decorating. Aside from helping MJ get into the admittedly cool pant suit she planned to wear, Peter’s time was his own until an hour before the ceremony.

Grinning at the thought, Peter pulled out one of the reception hall chairs and sat down heavily. He relaxed into the comfortable wood, reaching up to run a hand through his formidable curls. They were sans gel at the moment; his fingers sailed through the silky strands with ease.

Peter wasn’t aware he closed his eyes until a loud clatter had them blinking open in surprise. Swiftly turning towards the noise, Peter stopped in his tracks at the sight in front of him.

A big gray vase was the source of the noise, there was no doubt about that the second Peter spotted it. What completely took his breath away, or maybe who, was the man holding said vase. Peter saw tanned arms that were toned to perfection right off the bat. It was obvious at first glance that the owner of those limbs worked outside with his hands frequently. The lithe muscles and glorious golden skin tone spoke more of manual work than physical exercise. With his eyes travelling up firm forearms and the swell of a built bicep, Peter noticed the man’s hair next. Tamed by a plain white dad hat, an abundance of unruly curls flipped under the edges of the brim and sides. Peter imagined a flowing head of dark brunette hair he could easily slip his fingers into the depths of.

As if the man knew Peter was staring, he turned towards Peter’s table, an intrigued look on his face. A face that, after taking in the rest of the stranger’s glorious beauty, didn’t seem fair. Well-kept facial hair outlined perfect lips pulled into a knowing smirk. Rich, honey-golden eyes were just visible under the brim of the man’s sweat-stained hat. They seemed to pierce Peter right in the chest, like their unblinking nature dug under his skin and saw everything he tried so desperately to hide. The feeling was unnerving yet so exhilarating all the same. Though he felt so very exposed, Peter wanted nothing more than to narrow the space and get to know the handsome stranger.

Luckily, his chance came a couple hours later.

To stop himself from shamelessly flirting, Peter hightailed it out of the reception hall the second he could, using a check up on MJ as a guise for his obvious escape. Most of his friends were exactly where he left them at the start of the morning – it was a marvel that anything got done when they all got together. After braving the makeup talk and putting out a few emotional fires, Peter’s reprieve came in the form of a man of honor errand.

With MJ’s credit card in hand, Peter made his way to the front of the building where the florist was waiting. He’d been so glad to get out of the bridal suite that he didn’t stop to think about the stranger and the beautiful floral arrangement that’d been in his hand or to make the connection between the two. For the second time that day, Peter tripped over himself when the man came into view. Now that an actual need to speak to him was in sight, Peter didn’t know if he could make his mouth work to take the chance.

Recognition was clear on the florist’s face – though they didn’t know one another, it was hard to forget the very long, very obvious stare Peter was caught in. Those utterly kissable lips were upturned, the pinch around the man’s eyes from the grin making him all the more attractive. Rolling his eyes at the thought (like he needed to be any more attractive), Peter tried to school his features and return the smile with one of his own.

“Hi! I’m Peter, MJ’s man of honor. She sent me to square up the bill for the flowers,” Peter said in greeting. As the space between them narrowed down, Peter nervously reached out, his free hand suddenly taking up the space between them.

A surprisingly soft hand slipped into his a moment later – the touch was firm and efficient, only lingering a second longer than usually appropriate. “Nice to meet you, Peter. Please let MJ know that I really enjoyed the challenge of the flower choices. Geraniums are hard to come by this late in the season.”

Pulling away, despite the desperate want to have the man’s hands all over him, Peter nodded in understanding – most of both MJ and Darcy’s choices were high maintenance and unique. The planning of every step along the way had been an absolute bear. “That’s MJ for you,” Peter agreed with a light chuckle. “We’ve been scrambling around the last week or so trying to get all the details right.”

There was a shared moment of silence where the two simply smiled at each other. The florist seemed just as lost as Peter, the joint look of discomfort and wonder more telling than any words ever could be. For Peter, each second that passed was a small gift he gluttonously got to unwrap until the magic was broken.

“It’s her big day, she should have what she wants,” Tony finally replied, the words and a red blush breaking the silence. “I like the unique stuff, anyway – keeps the job interesting.”

Without missing a beat, a paper invoice was thrust in his direction. “I took out the delivery fee from the total since I was in the area already.”

After that, it didn’t take more than a couple of minutes to complete the transaction – the florist worked swiftly, his fingers nimble and knowledgeable in every movement he made as he swiped MJ’s card and handed it quickly back to Peter. The brush of their fingers in the exchange seemed purposeful, though – especially with the smirk and red blush that followed.

Caught up in how brilliant the look was, Peter didn’t realize there was nothing keeping him there until the shuffling of feet brought the reality of the situation back with a vengeance. As much as he wanted to stay and chat, or ask for a number, or even a name, Peter knew the time wasn’t right. He already felt so caught up – actually having access to his preoccupation wouldn’t be good for his focus. It was MJ’s day; he owed it to her to keep his shit together and make every second of it the very best.

Looking up, Peter shot the other man a large grin before lifting a hand, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “I better get back,” Peter started awkwardly, “but thank you – for helping make MJ’s day so beautiful.”

With a nod, the florist pocketed his phone and took off towards the parking lot. Peter watched him walk away just long enough to catch the glance over work-firm shoulders. Hazel and brown met for a moment before Peter forced himself to walk away – a large part of him wanted to sprint across the black top to stop the gorgeous man from leaving. Something in the pit of his chest was pulsing with life; the feeling was so foreign that Peter pushed it down and quickly ran in the opposite direction, instead.

Peter got back to the bridal suite in a wonky haze – so much so that he didn’t even realize he walked through the door until MJ’s voice broke through his rampaging thoughts. “Did you get everything squared away with Tony?”

Turning towards her, Peter tilted his head, a crease in his brow appearing in his confusion. “Tony?” Peter questioned as he made his way over to the big table in the center of the room to deposit both the invoice and MJ’s credit card.

“Tony – the florist. I sent you to pay the bill. Please tell me you didn’t get lost along the way.” MJ shot him a knowing look, her hazel eyes blazing with affection. “He was a great help these last couple of months – matching all the colors would’ve been impossible without him.”

His brain halted for a second, the organ doing nothing but processing the fact that his handsome stranger now had a name. Recalling the beautiful face, Peter figured the name Tony fit the man pretty perfectly. With that knowledge, it was quickly becoming obvious that his focus was already shot – Tony with toned arms and a delectably deep voice already took up space there, just waiting to distract Peter at the worst possible time.

Like that moment, where MJ was staring at him with growing concern, waiting for a simple yes or no to her easily answerable question. Peter shot her an embarrassed grin when he got himself back under control. Sheepishly, he reached up to run a hand through his hair. “All is well. He told me to tell you he enjoyed the challenge. Oh, and he nixed the delivery fee – said he was already in the area.” He tried to sound cool as he spoke, to not give his interest away. Yet he knew almost immediately he wasn’t successful – Peter heard his own excitement as the words bounced around in his ears.

“So it’s like that,” MJ said, looking at him much more critically now.

“Like what?” Peter shot back, refusing to look her directly in the eye. She already caught the scent – the second he gave her the satisfaction of seeing the truth in his eyes, Peter would never hear the end of it. Regardless of the very important fact that Peter, despite wanting to more than ever, didn’t even pursue the obvious and very mutual interest.

Instead of pushing, MJ surprisingly let a knowing smile overtake her face.

“I see you Peter Parker.”

Luckily, the hustle and bustle of pre-wedding preparations and nerves that were inescapable, swept the subject right off the table a moment later. Peter happily helped MJ make her finishing touches in preparation for finally meeting her wife at the end of the aisle. Getting so swept up in it all, Peter allowed himself to forget the hazel eyed man for the rest of the evening. MJ and Darcy looked so happy – it was hard to see passed anything other than their beaming smiles and the bright future waiting for them.

----

The next few weeks passed by in a flash. Peter finally got some time to himself and reveled in it, taking advantage of every second of solitary freedom he could purge himself on before his final season began. Movies, books, and his favorite video games were the only thing Peter allowed himself to think about (and Tony, so many of his thoughts were about the gorgeous florist). He even went as far as to bar MJ and Darcy from the apartment when they got back from their honeymoon – it was the least they could do after running him ragged with errands and things over the previous few months. The last thing he wanted to deal with was the bombardment of newly wed grossness; it’d been some time since Peter felt the luscious caress of love against his heart and soul – and jealousy just didn’t look good on him.

When his self-imposed isolation came to an end, Peter begrudgingly got back into a suitable routine. Though cheer practice was different without MJ there, Peter easily sunk back into the drills and full body workouts that came after an entire summer off on their own. Hayley, their coach extraordinaire, pushed them hard in the beginning – it was the best way to filter out those who wouldn’t make it when the season really got started and competition prep took over all of their lives.

Once his muscles got used to the severe beating he took on a daily basis, Peter was more than ready for the year to start. Football games and the atmosphere that came with being a Boiler were a lot of fun; and with his decreased workload as a fifth-year senior, Peter planned to enjoy the easy-going nature of spirit and poms and comradery before the teeth came out and everyone’s battle armor settled into place. When competition season started, the team’s overall atmosphere and driving motivations changed.

Of course, just when Peter thought things were going just the way they should, karma came around to prove him wrong. After a long practice the week before the semester started, one of their flyers fell from a stunt, completely unaware of her contact with the ground’s effect until someone on the other side of the mat screamed. The sight, when Peter allowed himself to look, turned his stomach – he’d never seen a dislocated hip in person before and hoped to never do so again.

After the trauma of having the paramedics all over their turf, the team was given a couple of days off to recuperate. Peter and the rest of the squad planned to take advantage of the freedom by visiting Macy, who ended up having to have emergency surgery to save both her leg and her life. Though he knew a bouquet of flowers wouldn’t change the fact that she would never be able to cheer ever again, Peter figured it was a nice touch and planned to have one made before heading to the hospital.

Googling the closest florist, Peter was surprised to find a shop so near to campus. Many of the businesses surrounding Purdue were food joints or bars that were guaranteed to get a lot of steady business during the semester and over the summer. He wondered, just for a moment, how such a random store managed to survive the college population.

It took one look at the place to understand why the shop fit exactly where it was. Instead of the old lady feel he assumed he’d find, Peter stepped in front of a large windowed building with intricate flower arrangements filling the visible shelves. On the far side of the door was a mural of the Purdue P surrounded by all types of flora. The word Stark’s was camouflaged within the swarm of vines and greenery throughout the painting. It was well done and in the perfect, eye-catching spot.

A small bell over the door rang as Peter walked through it – at least one of the cliches in his mind was accurate. Grinning at the thought, Peter let his legs carry him further into the store, his head on a swivel to look at all the beautiful foliage placed strategically from one wall to the other. Though he knew nothing of plants, Peter understood the art of drawing attention – he participated in a sport that perfected it. From the placement to the intrigue, whoever owned the shop knew exactly what to do to draw a person in.

Peter stopped his exploration when a recognizable voice echoed throughout the space – “I’ll be right with you.” Upon hearing the timber and depth that haunted Peter every night since MJ’s wedding, he almost turned around and walked right back out of the store. He wasn’t equipped for the gorgeous man and his distracting smile and eyes and shapely ass.

Before he could make his feet move or even think, Tony and his inarguable gorgeousness walked in through the back door. His hands were covered in dirty gloves, a newly potted plant in the crook of his elbow. A denim apron covered a plain white t-shirt and black jeans that peaked out the bottom. At the sight of him, Peter had to force himself to keep his mouth closed and the pace of his heart under control – much like the last time he enjoyed the view, Peter wanted to bound across the distance and intimately get to know the other man.

Met with a smile when their eyes locked, Peter reminded himself to remain calm and smile back, to actually act like a human person with thoughts and the ability to actually articulate them. He came in here for a reason, walking out of the store with anything but the arrangement he wanted to bring to the hospital was unacceptable.

Tony, upon recognizing him, took the first step towards intelligible conversation.

“Peter, right? It’s nice to see you in here! How’d the wedding go?”

Blushing at the familiarity, Peter dipped his head and took a deep breath, hoping to collect himself enough to actually reply back. “Hi, yes. Peter. It’s nice to see you, too. I was surprised to see a flower shop in the middle of college central, but your place seems to fit in really nicely. No wonder MJ was pulled in,” Peter said in reply, getting the words out all at once to make sure they all saw the light of day. “The wedding was beautiful. Both brides are blissfully happy, and your floral arrangements were the topic of several conversations I had that night. You do good work, Tony.”

Peter’s heart stopped when Tony tilted his head back into a laugh a moment later. How did someone look so sexy doing something so base? No matter what happened, Peter knew he’d never understand such a thing. To cover up his reaction, Peter added his own laugh to the mix – the sounds harmonious in the empty shop.

“Yeah, I’m sure my flowers were a hot topic of conversation, especially with those beautiful women in the room. Thanks for the kind words, though,” Tony mumbled through a laugh. As he spoke, Tony reached up to brush an errant curl from his forehead – without the hat, the hair on Tony’s head looked unruly and all over the place, untamed and absolutely beautiful. The move left the smallest remnant of dirt on his skin, the black flecks of soil like little calling cards with Peter’s name on them. His fingers itched to reach up and brush them away. Tony’s next words shook him of the thought – “What brings you in today?”

“One of my teammates fell and injured herself pretty severely. We, as a team, decided to rub in the fact that she’ll never join us on the mat again by visiting her now that she’s out of the ICU. I figured some pretty flowers might soften the blow,” Peter explained, coloring at the blunt honesty that trickled from his mouth.

Tony looked intrigued, the other man completely unfazed by Peter’s word choice and candid nature. “Must be a dangerous sport if you guys are nursing career ending injuries.” He signaled for Peter to follow him with a swift flick of his hand.

“I’ve seen some pretty intense injuries in my long cheerleading career, for sure. People flying through the air, and all that. I wouldn’t call the sport in general dangerous, per say – I’d say the expectations we have to meet are what’s dangerous. The look, the difficulty of the stunts we make our bodies do – it’s demanding,” Peter remarked, following a couple steps behind Tony as they walked.

“Sounds misogynistic as hell.”

Laughing at the truth of Tony’s statement, Peter nodded enthusiastically. His heart felt warm from the idea of the random stranger in front of him understanding his struggles better than May and Ben ever could. Tony didn’t know him, and yet Peter couldn’t remember ever feeling so seen. “Oh, it is. The beauty standards are unbelievable and if you’re a male in the cheer world, forget it – you’re fodder for mockery and intense judgement. I fit the stereotype and even I can’t catch a break.”

“What’s the stereotype?” Tony asked with a soft tilt of his head and curiousness in his eyes.

They stopped suddenly then – the space between them was narrowed down to a couple of feet with an abundance of plants surrounding them on both sides. If he took a step or two forward, Peter wouldn’t have too much trouble reaching out and touching Tony’s beautifully tanned skin like he so desperately wanted to. It took too much effort to stop himself from doing exactly that. How exhausting.

Without waiting another beat or giving himself another moment to eye kissable lips, Peter uttered the answer with subtle breathlessness – “Gay. Flaming homosexual is usually what people attribute to the men of the cheer world.”

Color travelled up Tony’s cheeks, his lips quirking ever so slightly. He took his time answering, the man obviously thinking through his reply before blurting whatever he had to say into the universe. “Huh. That’s interesting, considering football players don’t go a play without touching each other on the ass.” Tony stopped for a second, making sure to catch Peter’s eye. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” Peter answered immediately, the words coming out of his mouth without thought. “Its been my life since 7th grade.”

“I guess that’s all that matters, then,” Tony replied softly, a small, familiar smile on his lips. “Now back to your friend – what’s her favorite color?”

For the next half an hour, Peter learned about flower language and the subtle way to artfully layer flowers so the colors blended meaningfully together. Peter didn’t retain too much about the flowers themselves – they were beautiful and coordinated perfectly, but Tony out shone them all. He was obviously in his element; the simple way the information fell from his mouth spoke of years of study and tons of hands-on knowledge. Not only was the man smart, he had an eye for style and created little living masterpieces without much thought.

For what it was worth, the look of surprise that crossed over Tony’s face was brief. It made Peter’s breath catch in anticipation – for the first time in their short acquaintance, Peter felt uncertain. The feeling quickly passed, however; Tony’s face split into a beaming smile, the earlier surprise so easily replaced with seemingly genuine happiness.

“Yeah, I’d love to. I close up shop around 6 – are you free tonight?” Tony’s cheeks were stained with a rapidly darkening, gorgeous blush, hazel eyes shining.

Peter couldn’t remember what the next ten minutes entailed, let alone that evening – yet, whatever it was, he’d happily reschedule. There wasn’t a single thing that would stop him from saying yes to whatever Tony suggested. “I am. How about I meet you out front at 6:30? I’ll call Tasha and grab us a table for 7.”

Tony nodded, reaching across the counter towards Peter’s phone. “That sounds good. I’ll give you my number in case something changes. I’ve got a greenhouse out back and tend to forget myself. I sometimes lose track of time.”

Completely taken by every new thing he learned about Tony, Peter opened the phone and pushed it in Tony’s direction without hesitation. He didn’t expect the older man to be so forward – then again, Peter wasn’t all that surprised, either; Tony owned, operated, and supplied a successful business – he had to know what he was doing to some extent.

Watching with a delirious sort of haze, Peter followed as Tony’s fingers enter his number, then hit the green button to call himself. A phone on the back counter buzzed a couple of times before Tony ended the call and slid Peter’s phone back to him. “See you later, Peter. Tell your friend I wish her a speedy recovery.”

Numb hands grabbed the arrangement off the counter – Peter raised it towards Tony in a mock solute. “Until tonight, then.” Peter muttered the words excitedly. “Bye, Tony.”

He forced himself to keep his head down in hopes of actually making it out of the store. Peter wanted to turn around and look goofily at Tony – now that he knew his feelings were reciprocated, there was nothing stopping his desire from slipping out. Since the wedding, Peter forced the thought of strong arms and bright eyes from his head, just to be haunted by Tony’s beauty when he closed his eyes and let sleep take hold. His subconscious wasn’t on board with suppressing his urges – the fact that karma played a role made the rightness he felt even more valid.

Tony wanted him too.

His visit with Macy and the team was an immediate drag to his mood – the mix of emotions of the people surrounding their friend attempting to express sympathy was exhausting. Every person in the room feared Macy’s position in the bed. Some handled the anxiety better than others. The one bright spot of the visit, of course, was Tony’s arrangement. MJ immediately recognized the man’s work and winked at him knowingly. Peter didn’t stop a grin from slipping across his face; in their silent means of communication, the look was answer enough.

MJ corned him in the parking lot everyone dispersed to an appropriate amount of time later. When the room started to get too cloying, Peter made his excuses, prompting everyone to follow suit. There was only so much sad he could take – especially when a potential light in his dark tunnel shone so bright, waiting for him just hours away. They stopped at the trunk of Peter’s car, MJ leaning against the bumper like always. “Peter, spill. I haven’t seen that goofy look on your face since high school. Did something happen with Tony?”

Snorting at MJ’s impeccable awareness, Peter shifted until he could wrap his arm around her. He leaned his head against the side of MJ’s, closing his eyes. “Your florist is the best-looking man I’ve ever laid eyes on. I maturely held myself back at the wedding to be there with you in the moment and those karma points I banked were good to me today. I walked into Stark’s for some flowers for Macy and couldn’t bear to walk out without a chance to see him again.” Peter turned his head until he could press a kiss to her forehead. “We’re going out tonight.”

“I’m happy for you,” MJ said, her thin arms wrapping around him. “When I first met him, I thought you two might like each other. He’s older, a little weird, smart as hell – just your type.”

“I guess there’s a reason why you’re my best friend,” Peter quipped. “Seriously, though. Thank you – you always point me in the right direction. I really like him.”

MJ pulled back just enough to tap her forefinger against Peter’s nose – the move their sign of affection for years now. “Go get your man, Pete.”

----

To stop himself from pacing up and down the hall of his apartment, Peter went to the fitness center on campus – a hard workout with the weights was exactly what his body needed. Sweating and listening to a couple of playlists took Peter away from his thoughts of dinner later and into a mindset that let him just exist. It didn’t hurt that the pump in his arms looked amazing by the time he packed up and called it a day.

Timing it perfectly, Peter left himself an hour to get back to his apartment, shower, and decide on an outfit that didn’t shout desperate, but expressed his implicit interest, too. Not living too far from campus made it easy to fret about his clothes after a lengthy shower that took every ounce of Peter’s willpower to not masturbate anxiously. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to face the star of his fantasies head on after beating off to the thought of Tony’s tanned skin and gorgeous smile.

After a few restless passes through every piece in his closet, Peter took a large step back, attempting to clear his head. From what he already learned of the older man, Peter knew Tony looked flawless in anything – his style was basic, but the casual nature in which it was worn made the look stylish, anyway. Tasha’s restaurant wasn’t the fanciest place in the world and the pressing feeling of being comfortable in Tony’s presence made an outfit pop into Peter’s head after a couple of long breaths that helped to calm him down.

Peter slipped into his favorite dark wash jeans, smiling all the while – it seemed silly, the anxiety he danced with less than five minutes ago. He’d felt nothing but ease and excitement around Tony, getting himself prepared for a date with the man wasn’t as life and death as he let himself believe. Stressing over something that felt simple in every other way was a new feeling – Peter carried an abundance of confidence with him everywhere. The change made Peter believe whatever might happen with Tony was different and so much better than any other romantic dalliance he’d ever taken part in.

The outfit was finished with a couple small sprays of his favorite cologne – Peter only broke out the fancy stuff for special occasions. With a tug to his rolled shirt sleeve and the slightest adjustment of his collar, Peter took a deep breath and wandered across the room to stop in front of his mirror. His straight legged jeans were clasped at the waist with a black leather belt that cut Peter’s figure dramatically. Both muscular and trim, Peter went out of his way to make sure each attribute was highlighted appropriately. A white and blue stripped short sleeve button up wrapped around Peter’s firm biceps and tucked neatly into his waistband to highlight the narrowness of his hips.

Aside from the rogue curls Peter couldn’t tame, he felt good about the way he looked – the outfit and the confidence it made him feel would be a hit. Tony seemed to like the upfront and honest way he presented himself, there wasn’t any reason to change that now. Allowing himself one last look, Peter turned away from the mirror and made his last-minute preparations – he pocketed his wallet and keys and grabbed a jacket off the coat hook on his way out of the door.

It took less than five minutes to get to Tony’s shop – without the daily traffic on the road, the drive was easy. Pocketing that fact for another time, Peter climbed out of the car excitedly; for the first time in a while, Peter felt ready to date. Tony presented intrigue and want and a curiosity that Peter hoped to cling to for as long as possible. The simple fact that Peter already felt that way spoke volumes.

A door shutting brought Peter’s attention to the sidewalk in front of him. He expected to find Tony turned around to lock the front door of the shop, yet the older man was closing a door on the side of the building instead. Even more interested now, Peter started to head in that direction.

“I live in a huge loft above the shop,” Tony said with a knowing tone, answering Peter’s unspoken question without any sort of hesitation. “When I first bought the building, a storefront wasn’t what I initially had in mind. After I opened up the shop, it made the most sense.” Tony continued to speak as he closed the distance between them.

A soft pair of lips were pressed lightly against Peter’s cheek before he could think, let alone reply. Peter felt his cheeks and neck light up with a heated flush, his body temperature skyrocketing. Tony’s next words only added to the feeling – “You look amazing, Peter.”

Swallowing his awkwardness, Peter smiled in Tony’s direction, finally taking the man in front of him fully. Tony’s legs were encased in charcoal grey jeans that were rolled twice at the cuff. The edges sat nicely against a pair of black and white vans. The tanned arms Peter hadn’t been able to stop thinking about were on display – Tony’s short sleeve button up was perfectly tight against a trim chest and firm shoulders. Other than the stubble Peter figured Tony always had, the man’s cheeks were smooth – highlighting how gorgeous the florist truly was. It didn’t hurt that their fashion senses were similar, either; Peter wondered for a moment where Tony got the floral shirt currently driving him crazy.

“You’re stunning,” Peter eventually managed to say, his breathy words finally breaking his minutes long silence. “You’ve looked great in every way I’ve seen you – covered in dirt, sweaty and working, dressed to impress – it’s kind of not fair, Tony.” Peter let the truth of what he just said sit transparently on his face. They were passed the point of coyness and subtlety; Peter wanted Tony to know he was wanted, even though they hadn’t known each other long.

His bluntness seemed to do the trick – Tony grinned widely in his direction, avoiding direct eye contact with Peter in obvious hope of getting himself back under control. “Charmer,” Tony muttered, stepping a little closer to Peter to emphasis his point.

After opening the passenger side door like the gentleman he was, Peter settled behind the wheel and onto the main road. Tasha was a former teammate, a senior his freshman year, that escaped to Paris – only to make her way back to Indiana and use the knowledge she gained in one of the cooking capitals of the world. Over the years, Silver became a regular place for Peter and the team to spend their classier nights. The food was amazing, and Tasha’s unique style made the minimalism the restaurant was known for interesting and thought provoking. When he called to make the reservation, Tasha cooed in Peter’s ear while saving his favorite table for 7.

They made easy small talk during the drive over – Peter described the pre-season workouts he’d been trucking through while Tony regaled him with a story of his last customer of the day who tried to steal roses by stuffing them down her shirt. As he listened and absorbed, Peter realized Tony was funny and full to the brim of wit – he laughed freely, the sound so joyful, Peter couldn’t help but join in. They were still chatting as the hostess led them to their table and set large menus before them.

Their drink orders were taken almost immediately – the serving staff was familiar with Peter and must’ve been tipped off before they got there. A bottle of red wine was set on the table before either of them could delve back into their previous conversation. Peter poured them each a glass, then pointed at the menu – “Did anything catch your eye?”

“I thought I’d go with the steak frites. Out of all the dishes on this extensive menu, that one immediately came to your mind. Seems like as good a reason as any to give them a try,” Tony reasoned, lifting the wine to his lips as he spoke. “What about you?”

Peter’s cheeks were already starting to hurt from the giddy smile he couldn’t help – talking and joking and simply being with Tony felt so natural. He didn’t have to think to reply casually to whatever they were talking about. “I get them every time I’m here. When Tasha first opened this place, she’d just lay dishes on the table when we sat down. I stopped being her menu taster when she introduced me to the steak frites. I haven’t had anything else here since,” Peter admitted, his cheeks flaming once again.

“You’re one of those people, huh?” Tony shot back, grinning all the while.

“One of those people?”

Tony grinned a little wider, his eyes shining with affectionate enjoyment. Before he replied, the older man slipped his hand across the table, taking Peter’s fingers lightly. “Yeah, one of those people. Someone that gets the same dish at every Chinese or Italian place they go to, no matter the options.” His thumb trailed over the back of Peter’s hand. “You like what you like.”

Feeling a little called out, Peter ducked his head to stop anymore redness from overtaking his skin – he probably resembled a tomato already. It was crazy – to feel so happy being teased. “Okay, yeah – I’m one of those people. I’ll try that one dish anywhere, though.”

They traded a few barbs back and forth until they ordered, and their dishes were sat down in front of them. Without the threat of interruptions in the near future, Peter felt ready to broach some of the more personal topics – for the first time on a date, Peter genuinely wanted to listen and find out more about the person across from him.

“So, tell me more about yourself – who is Tony Stark when not covered in dirt or up to his elbows in beautiful flowers?” Peter cut into his steak as he spoke, hoping the relaxed way he asked the question would take a little tension off Tony’s obligation to answer. The last thing he wanted to do was make their time together feel like an interrogation.

Tony didn’t seem to mind, though – he looked up with a tilt of his head. “What do you want to know? I’m shockingly not covered in dirt a lot of my time throughout the day.”

“How did your love for flowers start? Did you study horticulture in college?” Peter decided to ask.

Smiling lightly, Tony shifted in his seat, preparing himself for story time. “I studied Botany and Plant Pathology, actually. I have a doctorate in Plant Genetics and Soil and Water Sciences. During my plant genetics studies, I did some time abroad that took me to every continent – seeing the wide range of flora that exists in this world was the first time I ever thought about making plants and flowers a daily part of my life to the extent they are now.” Tony stopped to meaningfully catch Peter’s eyes.

“I used to be a professor at Purdue – when the restrictions of the lab became too much, I ditched the academic world and opened up the shop. I’ve been elbows deep in beautiful flowers ever since.” Tony winked in his direction, repeating his words jokingly back to him. “What about you? You cheer and charm unsuspecting old men, I know that. What else do you get up to?”

“You’re the only unsuspecting older guy I want to be charming, don’t you worry,” Peter reassured Tony with a soft chuckle. “When I’m not sweeping you off your feet, I study Philosophy and play a stupid amount of video games. Cheer and all that comes with it takes up a lot of my time, though. Most of my college life has revolved around football games and competitions.”

“Sweeping me off my feet – jeez, Pete,” Tony mumbled. His cheeks were red and the smile he wore spoke of happiness and enjoyment. “I took a couple of Philosophy classes during my undergrad days. What do you plan to do with an entire degree with it?”

A laugh slipped from Peter’s mouth at Tony’s question – though many people asked him that very same thing, no one presented it quite like Tony did. “You’d be surprised by what you can do with a Philosophy degree,” Peter retorted. “I want to be a bioethicist. My minor is Public Health – when I put my cheer shoes away for good, I hope to get a master’s in Bioethics and finally get into the realm I want to be in.”

Tony tilted his head then, his eyes roaming over Peter curiously. “What made you want to get into that? I’m sure there aren’t a lot of young bucks walking into higher education with their sights set on changing the medical world like that.”

Sucking in a long breath, Peter let the question sit on the air for a moment. He swirled the last of his wine in the glass before drinking it. “My parents were in a car accident a couple of days before my 10th birthday. My dad passed away immediately, but my mom – she hung on for an extra couple of days. There was a lot of internal bleeding that they were worried about. In all that worry, they didn’t wait for scan results or blood work to come back before they attempted a new, exploratory surgery. She didn’t make it back out of the operating room.”

Peter paused for a moment, catching his breath. “I was old enough to know someone fucked up and when I looked into it later, I decided I never wanted to let someone feel like I did in a crisis like that. There’s got to be someone who reviews the evidence and makes the ethically just decision to save someone’s life. Why shouldn’t it be me?”

For a second, Peter thought he went a little bit too far – there was a tense moment of silence that felt heavy after revealing something so personal. Peter bit into his bottom lip, not letting himself look up to see whatever reaction existed on Tony’s face. Then, a soft touch brushed across the back of Peter’s hand, Tony’s calloused fingers wrapping around his own. A brief squeeze had Peter looking up, his breath catching at the awe that met him. “I’m sorry to hear about your parents, Pete. Mine aren’t around anymore, either. It’s kind of cliché to say that you saw the deeper meaning of something so tragic, but it’s true. You’re using your pain to make the world better. That’s good shit,” Tony said, his voice hinting at a note of finality – like nothing would change his mind of the thought.

His certainty made Peter feel light, the weight of his emotional burden finally lifting from him after so many years. What a difference it made, to be so easily understood.

That light and airy feeling followed Peter throughout the rest of the evening – he smiled widely as Tony talked about his greenhouse while they shared a small chocolate tart between them. For all that his physical attraction was worth, Peter was genuinely surprised to realize that he felt a personal connection to the florist, too. They led different lives but shared enough similarities to make the time spent together more than worth it. Peter liked Tony and from the looks and subtle touches Tony bestowed upon him all evening, Peter figured Tony might like him, too.

Tony proved that thought to be true when they pulled up in front of his place – “Do you want to come up? I had a really nice time tonight and don’t want it to end.” Tony’s words were said through a saucy smile, his intention more than clear in the look in his eyes.

Peter didn’t hesitate to give his answer – leaning forward, he gripped the side of Tony’s cheeks, using his hold as leverage to pull Tony a little closer. They met in the middle, their lips pressing together softly.

----

Things progressed pretty quickly from there. Tony led Peter up a small flight of stairs into an open room. As expected, plants and flowers were scattered around the place, covering all of the flat surfaces with adequate enough sunlight. A comfortable looking couch and kitchen table took up one corner of the room while a large, king-sized bed took up the rest of the free space of the room. There wasn’t much clutter and all of the things that Tony had, he more than likely used. It was simple and perfect, much like the person who resided there.

Tony didn’t let Peter take in the room for too long – before he could walk around and snoop, Tony’s arms were around Peter’s hips, pulling him close. Peter eagerly met Tony in the middle, their lips sealing together in the delicious slide of tongue and teeth and wet, panted breath. As the kisses deepened and their bodies moved closer to each other, Peter started to impatiently thumb at Tony’s buttons, his palms and fingers running over every inch of bare skin he revealed to the cold air. Tony followed suit; his movements much more impatient than Peter’s were. By the time they made it over to the bed, Tony was pulling down Peter’s pants and boxer briefs. He gladly joined Tony in nakedness before climbing onto the inviting mattress.

“Holy shit, this is comfortable,” Peter babbled absentmindedly, his limbs stretching as far as they could go.

“It’s the one thing I refuse to compromise on. I want to be comfortable when I partake in all the activities a bed is good for,” Tony replied as he climbed onto the bed and fit himself between Peter’s legs. “You’ll be even more impressed in the morning,”

For a while after that, there weren’t any words exchanged. Peter kept his mouth busy by pressing kisses into Tony’s neck and upper chest – Tony’s cologne was prominent, pulling Peter in the more he breathed the delicious smell in. Tony let Peter riddle his skin with marks and spit while he ran his hands all over Peter’s skin. Their hips were lined up and with every thrust Peter made up, Tony rolled his hips down until their cocks brushed delightfully. They were both so caught up in each other that nothing but touching and experiencing actually mattered.

It’d been so long for Peter that he found himself coming to a breathless crescendo fast. After a few minutes of passively letting Peter kiss him, Tony took control of things – his hips set the tempo and his hands and lips laid down the distraction. So overwhelmed from it all, Peter wasn’t aware of how close he was until his orgasm slammed into him out of nowhere. “Oh fuck, Tony! I’m – I’m going to come,” Peter panted out, his body thrumming with life and want and a desire he couldn’t hold back.

“Oh, Tony!” Peter practically screamed a moment later – Tony dirtily rolled his hips to toss him deliciously over the edge.

Panted breath filled the room as Peter rode the high of his orgasm. Tony placed tiny, teasing kisses against any part of Peter’s skin he could reach. Reaching down, Peter gripped the sides of Tony’s face until they were looking at each other – Tony met his eyes with a self-satisfied smirk. “How good is your turnaround time?”

Laughing, Peter leaned forward to give Tony a kiss. His cock was already starting to fill out again – having Tony so close set his body on fire. “Ten minutes at the max,” Peter mumbled after a moment of cataloging his heavy limbs and the desire that was rampaging through them.

“Good. Then you’ll have plenty of time to prep me before you fuck me.”

Lost in the words for a moment, Peter was immobile until Tony tapped his side with a cold lube bottle to get his attention. “You want me to fuck you?” Peter dumbly asked, his mind still trying to catch up.

“Yeah, Pete. I want to feel you inside of me. Your body is trim and fit – I can only imagine how good you’re going to fuck me,” Tony admitted without shame. He moved out of the splay of Peter’s thighs, climbing to his hands and knees, instead.

Not wanting to lose his chance, Peter launched himself into action. He ran his hands over the planes of Tony’s sides and back, tracing the small scars and tiny moles scattered across pale skin. His fingers were eager to categorize and map, but his impatience was too great. Tony pressed back into him, as if he too was starting to feel anxious for what was coming next.

Uncapping the lube, Peter drizzled a good amount onto two of his fingers, pausing just long enough to warm the slick to body temperature. When he felt ready, Peter pressed the tips of both his fingers to Tony’s eagerly waiting hole, tracing and circling the muscle to spread the lube and relax the man he was touching. Little by little, his first finger slipped in without much resistance. Tony bared down against him and let the digit slip all the way in until the webbing of Peter’s finger stopped him.

Now that the warm heat was wrapped around him, Peter wanted to take his time, letting Tony get used to the feeling while he explored and reached. Tony’s entire body jolted forward when Peter finally found that delicate nub.

“Shit – do that again!” Tony shouted; his voice laced with a breathy moan.

Unable to do anything but give into what they both wanted, Peter continued his ministrations, teasing Tony with one, two, and then three fingers. He scissored and pressed against the edge of Tony’s rim, loosening the muscle as he went. When he pressed inside, Peter caressed Tony’s insides, just barely pressing against his prostate until Tony was humping back with exaggerated impatience.

“I’m good, Pete. I’m good. Please, I want you,” Tony pleaded as he reached back and felt around for whatever lenght of Peter’s skin he could reach.

Completely hard once again, Peter was more than ready to feel Tony wrapped around him – after an easy orgasm already, Peter knew he’d be able to make their coupling worth it. Opening the tube of lube again, Peter drizzled more of it directly onto the length of his cock, and then a bit more around Tony’s rim. He stroked himself a couple of times, then shifted until the head of his cock could drag through the lube coating Tony’s skin.

He teased them both for a moment, tracing Tony’s rim with the wet head of his cock to ramp up that initial moment of anticipation. Peter kept up his antics until his own body couldn’t take it any longer – every part of him craved the warm embrace of Tony’s hole. With that thought in mind, Peter used one of his hands to grip Tony’s hip, using his hold to pull the other man back against him as he thrust forward. Breaching the muscle felt like coming home – he threw his head back with a rough groan; maybe he wouldn’t last as long as he initially thought.

“Tony, Tony, Tony – you feel fucking amazing,” Peter panted through clenched teeth, his body fighting hard against the need to thrust forward and take, take, take.

Tony reached back to grab at Peter’s hand on his hip to tangle their fingers together, instead. They shared a few breaths while Tony got used to the stretch of Peter within him, the mere connection between them radiating a different sort of heat while they waited.

Finally, Peter felt Tony relax around him enough for his hips to draw back and press forward without much effort. He kept his thrusts slow to start; his cock was throbbing from the realization that it was Tony below him – picking up the pace was a sure-fire way to end things a lot quicker than either of them wanted. When Tony started to thrust back against him, however, Peter lost more and more of his control. His hips snapped forward, their skin slapping together to make a loud sound that echoed around the room. With every thrust in, Tony moved with him – the tip of Peter’s cock was poised to press perfectly against Tony’s prostate every time.

Between the sounds dripping from Tony’s mouth and the delightful squeeze around his length, Peter was a few thrusts away from slipping over the edge once more. He tried to shift so he could wrap his fingers around Tony’s cock to get him there too, but he was met with a long stare over Tony’s shoulder – dark hazel eyes were on fire, pushing him to thrust harder and forget everything else. Tony’s body was taut, obviously strung out and seconds away from breaking apart. Finally understanding, Peter straightened out his chest, gripped Tony’s hips in both hands, and let himself go.

In the end, it was hard to decide who tumbled over the edge first. Tony shouted Peter’s name and tightened impossibly tight around him. The extra stimulus was the perfect thing to bring the heat in Peter’s belly to an overflowing boiling point. He tucked his head into the sweaty length of Tony’s neck and groaned, Tony’s name and fuck and unintelligible noises added to the symphony their joining created around the room.

Managing to just barely turn Tony as his body collapsed, Peter hit the mattress hard – his cock slipped out of the blissful heat, dragging a long groan from the depth of Peter’s chest. Being inside of Tony already felt like home; both his body and his heart were convinced. Wrapping his arm around Tony’s hip to compensate, Peter snuggled into the man’s sweaty back, keeping their bodies close.

“I – Tony. That was…” Peter started to mutter, his brain still not back online like the rest of him. Tony looked over his shoulder, affection and appreciation alive in the hazel of his eyes. They shared a heated stare as Tony pulled Peter’s hand more firmly across his chest – they didn’t need words in that moment, merely touching and existing in the same orbit was more than enough.

----

After that first passionate night, Peter spent almost all of his free time with Tony. With the shop being so close to campus, it was easy to lean on Tony’s close proximity and the joyful happiness Peter felt whenever they were together. The natural way their lives just sort of combined with each other proved how right they were for each other. Where others were wrapped up in the time Peter spent away from them, Tony enjoyed the fact that they led separate lives. Peter got to keep cheerleading and Tony at the same time without the two battling against each other. He didn’t know it before Tony came into his life, but that level of acceptance was everything Peter needed from another person to both excel and feel happiness.

Before Peter knew it, four months were behind them – though it hadn’t been that long, most of Peter’s things took up space in Tony’s apartment and every thought Peter had revolved around the life he was trying to create with the older man. He even took the time to learn more about Tony’s body of work – they spent many of their afternoons together in the backyard with Tony working the greenhouse while Peter practiced tumbling or simply watched his boyfriend in his element. Peter couldn’t recall another person making him feel so dumbfounded playing in the dirt the way Tony did – it wouldn’t matter what the man did, either; Peter would find something to be amazed about.

It was Tony that drew him in; his personality, thoughts, and the eager way he gave back to Peter spoke to a part of himself that he never knew existed.

Which was how he found himself nervously awaiting Tony’s arrival at the Purdue football stadium – aside from MJ and Darcy, Tony’s appearance at the football game would be the first time any of his friends met the older man. The fall, much like Peter, was a busy time of the year for Tony. Between weddings, showers, and parties, Tony’s weekends were filled to the brim. The homecoming game was the first game that the home schedule actually lined up with Tony’s off day. He couldn’t wait for Tony to watch him do the thing he loved in the uniform he felt proud to wear. Selfishly, he wanted to see that same sort of pride radiating from the person he’d fallen in love with.

The forty minutes they were trapped in the locker room before the game started felt like torture – his phone vibrated against his thigh a couple of minutes after they headed in from warm-ups. Tony was navigating the stadium’s security to get to the sideline spot Peter secured for him. When they walked back onto the field, Tony would be there eagerly waiting for him.

Finally, the performance lights flickered, and they were ushered to their usual entrance. The large black and gold flag he carried in his hands was lighter than usual – his excitement pumped through him, the dopamine of happiness causing a rush of energy. As the announcer pumped up the crowd, Peter caught the eyes of his teammates around him, sharing the hype he felt.

Running across the thick white lines never felt better – by the time he crossed center field, Peter caught sight of Tony in the corner. His boyfriend was clapping loudly, the honey-hazel of his eyes glued to Peter’s every move. The familiar feeling that Tony’s love created in him spread through Peter’s chest, showing itself off as a giant, beaming smile.

They didn’t get much of a chance to talk throughout the first half of the game – Peter’s stunt group was responsible for the spirit stuff for the first and second quarter. Instead, Peter sent Tony messages with his eyes, showing off his skills and tumbling talents whenever he could. It was almost better that way – Tony got to experience Peter in his element without any pressure to respond. The crowd going wild around them only added to the experience. For once, Peter got to put on the show.

When Peter got to wander off after the half-time performance, he was wrapped up in a bear-hug the second Tony could get his arms around him. Peter was covered in sweat and glitter and the annoying little turf beads that always stuck to his skin, but Tony didn’t seem to care. The older man picked him up, spinning him around excitedly. “Pete, you’re so talented. I about shit my pants when you back flipped for so long down the field, but damn – the skill you possess,” Tony gushed, tucking his face into Peter’s neck to calm himself down.

Not wanting to lose the upbeat energy, Peter cupped Tony’s cheeks in both of his hands. Tony leaned into the touch, tilting his head back to look at him. “I’m so happy you’re here,” Peter started, leaning forward to steal a quick kiss. “I’ve been on point all day because of you. I can feel you watching me – I want to be good for you.” The last words were whispered in his ear, the impact of them hitting Peter hard across his lower back as Tony wrapped him up and pulled him close.

“You’re the only thing I see,” Tony mumbled back, his tone all the sudden low and gravelly.

After leaning in to give Tony a heated kiss, Peter forced himself to pull back – he stepped out of Tony’s embrace completely. If he stayed there any longer, he wouldn’t make it back to the locker room at all. Smirking in Tony’s direction, Peter thrust his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got to go, or I’ll never leave. See you after?”

“I’ll meet you out front,” Tony said with a nod, his anxious hands reaching out to squeeze Peter’s hand once more. “Keep kicking ass, Pete.”

His role during the third and fourth quarter was a lot more passive than the first half of the game. Since the Boilers were up more than two touchdowns, a lot of the crowd left after the first few minutes of the third quarter – that meant the younger stunters and less experienced tumblers got to have some time on the field. To stop himself from straying over towards Tony, Peter put all of his effort into helping his littles. It didn’t work nearly as well as he figured it might, but he got through the rest of the game with minimal distraction.

Hayley’s speech was inspirational and moving like usual – they were done with football home games for the season and their success was obvious and highlighted in her moving words. The next couple of months of the season were the calm before the storm and they were all looking forward to the small break basketball games posed for them. Competition season started after the holidays and no rest would be spared. Though he always appreciated her words, Peter wished for them to quickly come to an end.

Before he even finished the thought, Hayley was circling them up, calling out the cheer that they all echoed back. As he shifted to move out of the circle, a firm grip stopped him. “I believe this is for you,” Hayley said, handing over a classic red rose.

“Hayley, who’s this from?” Peter asked, trying his best to tamper down the hope that maybe Tony was the stupidly romantic culprit.

With a knowing smile, Hayley shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, “He said you’d know.”

Pulling the rose to his chest, Peter ducked his nose to sniff at the crisp petals. It was de-thorned and freshly cut – Tony’s markers were all over the beautiful gesture. His cheeks were already sore from all the beaming he’d been doing all night, the face splitting smile only made it worse. Despite that, Peter wore it throughout his post-game routine and out the door where he ran directly into MJ.

“MJ! What are you doing here?” Peter threw his arms around her then, careful not to crush the flower still in his hand.

Thin arms returned the hug – MJ brought him tightly to her chest with a hard squeeze. It’d been a few weeks since they’d seen each other. Seeing her standing there, Peter realized it’d been too long.

“I couldn’t miss homecoming. I am an alumna after all,” MJ replied, her wide eyes never leaving him. Watching her closely, Peter felt a gasp leave his lips when she brought another classic red rose up, running the flower under her nose. “This needed delivering, too.”

Peter gripped the rose lightly, tucking it against the other one in his hand. Each of the petals were perfect and from the small lessons he got from Tony whenever they handled the clipped flowers, Peter knew what the giving of classic red roses meant. It only seemed right that Tony clued him in that way.

“Don’t fuck this up, Peter. I really like him, too,” MJ remarked as she moved in to press a soft kiss on his cheek. He kept her close for a moment, simply soaking in her presence. “He’s waiting for you out front. Go get your man, Pete.”

A soft laugh left his lips, MJ said that to him when she first learned about his date with Tony. It wasn’t lost on him how full circle everything felt. The rightness of being with Tony existed in every aspect of his life – each little sign made the delirious heat in his chest burn that much brighter.

Giving MJ one more squeeze, Peter broke away to quickly make his way towards the front of the stadium where Tony was waiting for him. He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve such a sweet display of affection – Tony knew Peter appreciated the simple day to day life they were slowly creating with each other. At the same time, Peter’s heart was hammering in his chest at the thought that Tony deemed him worthy of such a gesture.

Peter found Tony leaning up against one of the large pillars just outside the exit doors. In the darkness, the honey color of his eye shone like melted pools of gold. Narrowing the distance between them became the only thing on Peter’s mind, he picked up his pace and practically threw himself in Tony’s arms.

The sigh along the length his neck made Peter tuck in a little tighter against Tony, his heart pounding with affection. He pulled back before the roses in his hand could get squished in the intensity of their embrace. Peter brought the flowers to his nose, keeping Tony’s eye as he did. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Peter sing-songed, grinning at the flush that spread over Tony’s cheeks with every word.

Tony nodded at him, tilting his head with a mischievous look of his own. “It looks like you’re missing one, though,” Tony remarked. The long stem in his hand was darker than the others, symbolizing love yet to be realized. Their fingers brushed as Peter took it, his brow quirked in intrigue.

“I love you, Pete. I’ve known since you walked through the door of my shop that you were special. Every second with you has made my life just a little bit better. I know it hasn’t been that long, but I’m mad about you. Over the fucking moon.” Tony walked into his space then, his hands cupping Peter’s cheeks.

Surging forward, Peter caught Tony’s lips in a passionate kiss, their noses bumping in the process. They sipped from each other’s mouths until the need to breath became pressing. Instead of pulling away, Peter leaned his forehead against Tony’s, closing his eyes to revel in the contentment that wrapped around them both. After a couple of shared breaths, Peter blinked to catch Tony’s eye. “I love you too, Tony,” Peter whispered back.

With a wide grin, Tony leaned in again, mumbling “I know” against Peter’s lips.

#starker #Peter Parker/Tony Stark #sfsummerbingo21 #bobbie writes #it takes me all the way #starker fic

46 notes · View notes

moeruhoshi · 4 years ago

Text

I’ve already put this on my ff.net but I wanted to share it on here

There existed a legend of the undine, a powerful creature that provided the continent, Fiore, with its water supply.

The story began with a vast expanse of desert covering every inch of the land, barely a water source in sight. Water early humans were able to find, made for the center of town, small villages surrounding it. And once their source was used up, they moved to find the next one.

Soon, all tribes gathered around the last oasis, each leader convening to decide the best course of action.

They gathered all of their people, asking each and everyone if they were brave enough to wander the desert searching for the fabled undine.

There was a high risk of death from dehydration or getting lost in the delirious sun. But to save thousands of people from the brink of extinction would deem even the weakest a hero.

Silver Fullbuster offered himself for the task, the North's most notorious warrior.

The crowd roared with cheers as the leaders took him away, immediately preparing him for the turbulent journey.

An ancient map of the undine's possible location, enough drinking water for two months, rations, clothing, shelter. Silver's own camel would lead him through the trials of the hot sun.

He left that night, ignoring the cheers and hopes of the people, knowing their burden wasn't worth shouldering.

He wasn't doing this to gain status or heroism. Only a greedy man would save thousands to stoke his own ego.

His greed was personal, because of course, he wanted something in this world.

He wanted a family; a wife and a healthy little boy. But he never let himself fall into such an extreme fantasy.

How could he when the world was in so much trouble? When there was barely any water for the children to drink now? He refused to let his family struggle without a means of solution. And now, here one was. He could appease the undine, beg for their help, possibly return water to Fiore.

Once he went back, victorious, he could settle down and have the life he always dreamed of. That was the true reward in this trek.

So he kept a consistent routine; traveling at night under the moon's cool gaze and building shelter for the day's beaming sunlight.

Silver would read the map, re-reading day in and out. He memorized the landmarks on the way; massive sand dunes, clumps of palm trees, dried up oasis', gardens of cactus.

The undine rested in the northeast, the location, he found, that he'd never seen on a map before. He was quite an expert when it came to navigation, having read most maps that led his people to new water sources.

But this one led him past the highest dune, into an undiscovered portion of land. This assured him of the possibility of the undine's actual existence. He also felt a bit wary, unsure of what lay out in the mythical desert.

He hoped his sword wouldn't have to be drawn for anything but slicing his fruit.

The journey was taxing, Silver, fearing that his mind would begin to waver. Sanity was not easy to be kept by oneself, and he wished to have just one conversation with his old friends. The camel wasn't as interesting.

He hoped they were well, that the villages were, too. He hoped the water supply hadn't lessened by much, his self-made calendar almost a month in.

He neared the location, marking off each landmark that stood out to him. The palm trees, the oasis', the cacti, and finally, the series of mountainous dunes.

It wasn't long before his two months came to fruition, his water supply dangerously low.

It was enough to make it over that high peak in the distance, his goal just moments out of his grasp.

He traveled through the sun and the moon, not caring to even get a wink of sleep. He was almost there, almost there, almost...there.

Sand, sand, and more sand.

What? No, that couldn't be true.

Where was her cave, where was the blooming rainforest, the oasis?

Where were the plants and trees and water?

Where was the undine?

He gulped down the lump in his throat, calming his trembling hands as he ebbed his camel to begin its descent.

It had to be nearby; maybe it was just a bit farther than he could see.

But he didn't have enough food or water to make it past another horizon. His camel would lose its energy, and then, he would be left, stranded in the middle of nowhere, to die.

He held back his fear, taking deep breaths with his eyes shut tightly. Everything would be okay.

He repeated this in his head, holding onto the reins to avoid falling off.

Everything would be okay.

Everything would be...gentle, like a droplet of water on his cheek.

Everything would be...silky, like a cool banana leaf brushing against his skin.

Everything would be...comforting, like a calm wind on a hot summer's day.

Everything would be...wait...huh?

Silver opened his eyes, leading his camel through a suddenly grassy area, plants, and trees surrounding every end. He couldn't even feel the sun on his skin, the leaves providing him with excellent shade.

He shook his head, rubbed his eyes, slapped his cheeks.

No way...

He stopped abruptly, eyes bewildered at the sight of a relaxed, glistening, untouched body of water.

He hopped off the camel, quickly throwing off his clothes as he jumped into the water. He couldn't help but laugh. He actually made it.

He knew he would never have a chance to bathe like this again, taking the soaps out of his supplies to properly wash the desert off of his skin.

Somehow, he felt healthier, renewed. Almost like the water was giving him nutrients, soaking into his body and returning all of his lost hydration.

He never smiled more than he did today.

He let himself rest against the water's edge, stroking the camel's head as it drank from the pond.

A sudden snap of a twig in the leaves startled him, Silver quickly standing in fear.

Until now, he hadn't bothered to wonder if there was anything else in this place. But, of course, wildlife could exist anywhere.

A sharp squeal punctured his eardrums, a girl not much taller than himself falling out from behind a nearby tree.

She was dressed in delicate white, albeit sheer, garb, hair the color of the moon.

Silver felt his cheeks reddened as they made eye contact, his heart suddenly unable to stop beating.

He asked carefully if she was alright, the girl quickly scrambling to her feet, giving him a haphazard bow before running off into the woods.

That couldn't have been the undine, right?

He hurriedly tugged on a pair of pants, running after her without a second thought. A smile grew on his face; somehow, he was having a lot of fun right now. Maybe it was the effects of this place, but he wouldn't question it.

She came into view, her hands carrying the ends of her dress.

He called out, asking her to stop, pleading with her, apologizing for scaring her off.

She eventually came to a halt, doubling over as she caught her breath.

"I've never run so much...in my life," She wheezed, Silver laughing as he caught up to her.

"I'm sorry," He snickered, running a hand through his hair. "Do you need some water?"

"...No, I'm alright," She said, standing straight to look him in the eye.

His heart jumped at her sharp gaze, finding it absolutely mesmerizing. But then, he remembered his task, remembered everyone who was waiting for him.

Either way, something told him not to ask just yet.

"How did you find this place?"

"By accident," He shrugged, the girl blushing at his lopsided grin. "Although, I do have a map,"

"Eh? Where? Show me," She said, quickly grabbing onto his arm. Both blushed at the sudden touch, Silver suddenly realizing that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

He led her back to his things without question, pulling the scroll from the camel's back.

"See," He pointed at the blank space. "This told me that I'd find this place here,"

"All this time, they had a map," Her lip trembled as she mumbled, staring at the expanse. "Why did no one come if there was a map?!"

Silver reeled at her sudden outburst, watching water drip from her arms and legs, forming a pool at her feet.

"Why..."

He struggled to speak up, not knowing exactly what to say. But he recognized that sad tone on her voice, one he'd come accustomed to in his own mind. She was lonely.

"No one thought this place was real," He said honestly. "It was a story for young children. Not a message to come find you,"

She sniffled as he reached out to rub her back, the two awkwardly meeting eyes again.

"I-I see... I'm sorry...I get very emotional at times,"

"That's okay," He shook his head, clearing his throat as he thought of something else to say.

"So...you have a name?"

"Mika...my name is Mika."

Silver then spent his days with Mika, wondering how he could ask her to provide water to the world. But he couldn't ask a lonely girl, barely his own age, to do such a thing. They just met; how could he make it her responsibility? She was abandoned by the world, left to take care of it without a second thought.

Unbeknownst to Silver, however, the world already began to change. The water seemed to grow from nowhere, the oasis back home never even falling an inch.

Old, dried up sources began to refill, and plants began to grow out of the ground. It was a true miracle, for every few hours equaled to about three months in the real world.

His presence alone filled the undine with a newfound emotion, one that stirred her to unconsciously plenish the Earth.

She showed him every plant and animal that existed in her domain, how she took care of them all these years.

He showed her how to wield a sword because that was the only thing he knew how to do.

She would watch him practice, trying not to stare so hard at his bare chest.

Mika didn't understand the deep welling in her chest that made her leak out of her ears at times. Silver was steadily filling a hole in her heart, one she didn't realize was so empty.

He was straightforward in most ways, knowing full well he'd fallen in love.

He went off and fell in love, unable to accept that he hadn't helped anyone by doing so.

He couldn't bear the weight of selfish guilt, wondering if he should just get it over with and ask the undine for help.

She sensed his anxiety, her own building as her thoughts began to wander. He wasn't from around here; what would happen if there came a day he wanted to leave? How could she go back to existing all by herself?

"You look quite somber," Mika said as she approached Silver from behind, sitting next to him as he stared into the reflection of the pond. "Anything I can help with?"

"I just miss my home," He sighed, tossing a pebble into the water. "I wonder if they're all okay,"

"I could show you?" She hummed, bending herself to enter his field of vision.

"How?" He stared at her as she waved a hand over the water, an image blurring into view. He saw his friends, the villages waving as they began to part ways. They were returning to their rightful homes, all with enough water to last the whole trip. He could see the plant life that never existed before, the clouds in the usually empty sky. He could see their vanished cracked lips, their joy as they helped themselves to the oasis water that didn't even lose an inch.

He looked at her with wide eyes, quickly understanding the situation. She craved for company, never having any before he stepped foot in here. And the world magically began to fix itself, all because her lonesome self was requited.

Silver no longer felt the need to hold back, grabbing onto Mika's shoulders. He pushed her down before she could refuse him, kissing her with his held back feelings.

The undine rightfully sprung a leak, unable to grasp the situation entirely.

This day would mark the first rainstorm to ever cross the land.

She kissed him back, finding herself more comfortable when he whispered between their lips.

"I love you,"

He finally had the family he always wished for, a wife and a healthy little boy.

They named him Gray, his sharp eyes a bit gloomy but bright and full of wonder.

He was an undine, like his mother. The day of his birth had unwittingly created what the world would come to know as oceans.

Silver lived without knowing what became of the world, its expansion, evolution. It was past its days of cloth tents and makeshift floors, buildings and castles built, wars fought and won, kingdoms conquered. The legend of the undine soon became a legend again, Silver's name lost in the history books.

He didn't need anything more than Mika and Gray in his life.

But Gray, well, Gray tirelessly craved something. He couldn't understand what; maybe this was just how an undine lived. His father was a human, so he couldn't understand well.

However, Mika repeatedly told him what it meant to find love. It was everything to an undine, a second close to their life's primary purpose. It was more than familial love, a bond that Gray could only ever have with one person.

The one person he met by falling through a pond.

Juvia liked to play by the water every day, skipping rocks and kicking her feet in the shallow end.

She was an only child; her parent's often too busy to pay her any attention.

The water created a reflection she spoke to, mistakenly learning the habit of talking in the third person.

Juvia this, Juvia that...her parents would never let her make a debut in high society with such an odd way of talking.

One day as she sat by the pond, the young girl was started by a sharp shout, one that was...falling from below?

She threw herself back and out of the way as a boy popped out of the water, gravity bringing him down on the ground.

He grunted, rubbing his nose as he stood up.

"What the..." He pouted as he looked around, soon locking eyes with the girl behind him.

"Who..." Juvia began to say, startled as he quickly jumped back in the water.

"Be careful! You could drown!" She shouted, rushing back to the water's edge. But the surface was still, and the boy was gone as if he'd never existed.

Gray did exist and quickly wished he hadn't. His chest, his heart...it felt like it would beat its way out onto the ground. What was this? What did she do to him? Why does he feel so...mushy?

He ignored such a creepy feeling, going back to the quiet life he lived with his parents, unable to get her image out of his head.

Years passed before they would meet again, on the eve of Juvia's eighteenth birthday. Her parents threw a ball, introducing her to all sorts of people from across Fiore. But she didn't really care to fake a smile all evening.

She escaped to her safe haven, sitting beside the pond once again.

She couldn't forget that strange boy with the droopy eyes, even after all these years. He was wonderfully precious to her, like a fairy. She wondered if they'd ever meet again.

"It's rude to leave a party without even having one dance, no?" She turned around, rolling her eyes as she saw Lyon.

"I don't care much for dances," She sighed, frowning as he crouched down beside her.

"I'd rather if you learned to be more well behaved," He frowned, tightly gripping her chin with his forefinger and thumb. "My fiancee has to have manners."

"I'll do well to remember that," She glared at him as he stood up, turning to walk back inside.

"I'll see you in a few minutes,"

Her rage always escalated when that creep was around, never even able to care about him for a second. He didn't like her anyway since their relationship was arranged for their parent's benefit. She caught him multiple times cavorting with his own maid that he seemed to adore ten times more.

She looked into the pond, sighing again. She wanted to be with that boy from her memories, wondering just what could lie underneath this shallow surface.

Maybe she could go through, too? She never thought to try it before. And drowning was always better than a miserable life with Lyon.

Juvia waded into the water, her large ballgown helping to drag her to the bottom.

Please, please, please, let me see him again.

She closed her eyes and held her breath, struggling when she needed to exhale.

Juvia forced herself to the surface, gasping for air as she reached the top.

Opening her eyes, she met the shocked gaze of a boy almost her age, those same droopy eyes staring at her with ripe panic.

"It's... It's you!" Her smile stretched widely at the boy before her, his blush increasing with each passing second.

"Could you...!" He roared and slapped the water at her. "I'm taking a bath!"

"Oh..." Juvia quickly turned around, covering her eyes. "My goodness, I'm so sorry!"

"Uh-huh, just don't turn around, I mean it!" He growled, the splash of the water letting her know he got out.

"Let me get your hand," Juvia blushed as she turned to see him holding out his hand, wearing nothing but a loose pair of trousers. She'd never seen a man shirtless like this before. It was...she couldn't think of the word.

"Thank you," She swallowed her nerves as they stood before one another.

"Do you need some help getting back?" He quirked a brow, looking over her shoulder. "That gate should've been closed, but I can push you back through it, so you get home,"

"N-No!" He took a step back as she shouted. "N-No, I don't want to go back there, please don't send me away,"

"Fine then," He huffed with an annoyed hue on his cheeks. "You can stay, but we'll have to ask my parents,"

"Okay," She quietly followed behind him as he began to walk, the soaked train dragging against the forest floor.

"May I ask your name?"

"Gray," He threw her a look over his shoulder, walking with his hands held up behind his head. "Yours?"

"I'm Juvia,"

"Juvia," He mumbled, unconsciously smiling at the way it flowed on his tongue.

60 notes · View notes

starryeyes-darkestnights · 4 years ago

Text

The City

The second part of the O’Knutzy au where Leo and Logan are still playing for the Lions, but Finn is a musician they met by chance on a roadie to Montreal.

I still don’t know what to call this story! But you can find part 1 here.

Also, this is kind of long, it got away from me :)

The song referenced in this part is The City, by Sam Fischer.

These beautiful characters and their world belong to the incredible @lumosinlove

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leo

When Leo and Logan stepped off the plane in Gryffindor painfully early the next morning, their phones buzzed in unison.

Finn: Hey guys! It’s Finn. Just sending my number. I hope your morning wasn’t too bad after the late night. Mine was excellent, I slept all the way through your entire flight 😇. Anyway, let me know you get this, and I hope you were serious about getting together when we’re all back home. My dancing legs are ready.

Leo heard Logan snort under his breath and looked over to see him smirking as he typed out a response.

Logan: Our morning was awful, thanks for asking. Your dancing legs better be training before we get together again, because I can confirm that as of yesterday, they are not, in fact, ready.

Leo rolled his eyes affectionately, typing as he moved toward the baggage claim.

Leo: Tremz is just grumpy he didn’t get to limbo. Don’t listen to him.

He heard Logan let out an offended sound somewhere behind him and bit back a smile, restraining himself from turning to see Logan’s face.

Finn: Haha, sorry not sorry Logan. Also, if that’s how it’s going to be, then the competition just got real. Bring in the judge. We’ll see whose really got the moves. Spoiler alert, it’s me.

Logan: Challenge accepted. Though I would caution you to reconsider.

Finn: Back down from a dance contest?! Never! THIS. IS. SPARTAAA!!!!

Leo let out a surprised laugh at that. It would seem that Finn shared Logan’s love of a challenge.

Leo: … oh my god.

Finn: You know you love it Leo.

Leo: I do not.

Logan: He does, I can literally see him laughing.

This time Leo did turn around, just in time to see a smirking Logan flipping him off. Leo shot him a glare.

Leo: Traitor!

Finn: Hahahahah

Logan: Ok our ride is here. I’m gonna go pass out.

Leo: Have a good holiday Finn. Let us know when you’re back in town.

Finn: You too guys. Talk to you soon.

Leo clicked off his phone with a smile and grabbed his bags.

One Week Later

Finn

Finn: Hey guys, just letting you know I’ll be back in Gryffindor tomorrow. I’ve got a late flight in.

Leo: Really? That’s cool. I thought for sure you’d be in Montreal until after the New Year.

Finn: Nah, I’ve got some stuff to do for school, and I have a gig the day after tomorrow I need to be back for.

This was at least 50% a lie.

Which meant, Finn had reasoned with himself earlier as he used the exact same line to explain to his family why he had moved his flight up almost a full week, that the other 50% was the truth.

Finn had been messaging with Leo and Logan since they left Montreal, and when he had found out two days ago that they had only had a three day break with their families over Christmas and that they were now back to work in Gryffindor, he hadn’t hesitated before looking for excuses to get back there himself.

As a result, he really did have a gig scheduled for the day after tomorrow that he had to be back for. He may have begged his way through his contacts list for the past two days to find that gig, but it was real. And even though he didn’t have a single thing due for school, if he now had to go back for the gig, he could totally get a head start on something. Which was kind of the exact same thing. So really, it was more like 75% truth. If you rounded, that made it 100%.

Logan: Sweet. Let us know the time and place, we’ll come and see if you’re any good without us 😉.

Finn scoffed at his phone. He dropped a pin with the location of the gig, took a selfie of himself shooting a rude gesture Logan’s way, and grabbed his guitar.

He prided himself on always putting his best into every show, and if Leo and Logan were going to come to this one, he needed to be a little extra prepared. He hadn’t been able to get either one of him out of his mind since the night they met, evergreen eyes and a sweet dimpled smile flashing behind his eyes every time he tried to play. It was going to be impossible to focus when they were right there in front of him, so if he didn’t want to make an idiot out of himself, he needed to get practicing.

---

Logan

Two days later, Logan was waiting for Leo outside of a coffee shop in downtown Gryffindor.

It was a chilly evening, starting to snow, and he shivered lightly as he looked up at the flakes floating gently in the light of the coffeeshop windows. He picked one and followed its path through the sky, trying to distract himself from the weird knot that had settled in his stomach earlier in the evening. The one he told himself had nothing to do with the visions of freckles and sinfully long lashes that he was trying desperately to keep from flashing through his mind unbidden.

“Whatcha looking at Tremz?”

Logan had been so focused that he nearly jumped out of his skin when a calm voice sounded just beside him.

His hand flew to his chest as he looked up to see Leo smiling down at him, his cheeks flushed from the cold, and a streetlight behind him lighting up his golden curls. Logan’s pulse stuttered. Fuck. He hated being caught off-guard.

“Mon dieu, Nutty.” He choked out, putting a hand to his heart, which was now pounding against his ribs. “Learn to make noise when you walk. You scared the shit out of me.”

Leo just laughed, “If you were paying attention you would have seen me coming. I’m not exactly easy to miss.” He gestured at his long limbs.

He had a point. Logan made a face at him and turned toward the door, looking up at the sign above the entrance as he tried to pull himself together. It read ‘The Burrow’.

“Come on,” he grumbled, his pulse beginning to calm, “let’s get a drink before Finn starts playing.”

When they walked in, Logan was surprised at what they found. The Burrow was much bigger than it looked from the outside. The brightly painted walls went back further than expected, and a second level ran around the perimeter of the room, giving patrons a view down onto the main floor, where a permanent stage was set up in the front corner. The back wall was taken up by a dark wooden bar, several baristas moving gracefully around one another in quick, practised, movements as they mixed and delivered drinks. The rest of the space was filled haphazardly with tables, and those tables were already filled with people, the low buzz of their conversation filling the room.

It was warm, and bright, and it smelled like chocolate and coffee.

“Wow,” said Leo, looking impressed, “This is… not what I expected.”

Logan hummed his agreement, eyebrows raised as he looked around, impressed at how cozy it managed to be despite its size. His eyes landed on an empty table halfway back from the stage and he nudged Leo. “I’m gonna go grab us seats over there. Will you get drinks?”

Leo agreed, and as he headed toward the bar, Logan started to make his way across the room. He was halfway there when he caught a glimpse of red hair in his periphery. He stopped in his tracks as his stomach made an unexpected flip. Finn was standing near the stage, talking to an older woman who seemed to be helping him with some cables. He was laughing, and even from a distance Logan could see the way his face lit up with it, his wide brown eyes glowing in the warm lights of the coffee shop. Logan was suddenly gripped with the desire to be the one eliciting that laugh, the one who got to be right there to experience it.

He pulled in a sharp breath and stopped himself. This was why he had been trying to block those visions from his mind. It could never happen. Not so long as he was playing in the NHL. Logan had chosen this career knowing it would mean hiding this part of himself away, very deeply, for as long as he wanted to play. He had been doing so well with it, hadn’t even slipped up with Leo. He could shut this down too. Stop it before it had a chance to start.

He took another a deep breath and pulled his gaze away from Finn, moving more quickly now until he was able to slump into the chairs he had targeted. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, trying to get his thoughts back under control. When he opened them again, it was to find Leo right behind him, full lips turned up in an amused smile at catching him staring straight up at nothing for the second time that night. His stomach flipped again at the unexpected sight. Damnit. He needed to get his feelings under control, and he needed to do it now.

“I would ask what you’re looking at again, but it didn’t go so well the first time.” Leo joked as he pulled out the chair across from him.

Logan forced out some kind of noncommittal response and straightened to look at the cups in Leo’s hands, desperate for any kind of distraction from his thoughts.

“What’d you bring me, Nut?” he asked, trying to keep his voice upbeat. But Leo was a goalie, and a good one. His observational skills were well-honed, and he knew Logan. His gaze shot immediately to the older boy’s face, soft blue eyes flickering over his features intently. His eyebrows furrowed and Logan tensed under his gaze, silently praying for him to leave it alone. Whatever Leo saw in his face, he must have decided to let Logan have it, as he gave him a final once-over and then slowly pushed something that looked iced and sugary in his direction.

“I will never understand why you like these things,” he said carefully, “but I picked the most sweet-sounding one they had.”

“I like them because they’re delicious.” Logan replied, grateful to him for letting it go. “You just have no taste.”

Leo narrowed his eyes, “Strong words coming from – “

A voice interrupted him, “Logan Tremblay?”

Logan looked up to find a very pretty girl standing beside their table.

“And Leo Knut.” added a girl standing beside her.

Logan felt relief wash over him at their timing. This was familiar. This was a distraction he could work with.

---

Finn

Finn had just finished setting up the stage when he finally let himself look for Leo and Logan. He leaned against a wall and cast his gaze around the room, smiling at the comfortable familiarity of the space- one he had performed in dozens of times before. He was stoked to be introducing the boys to this place. He loved the Burrow, and the people who filled it. He had been coming here religiously since his freshman year of college, after falling in love with the strange way it managed to be both big and bright, and cozy and warm. He had been delighted by the contradictory nature of the place on his first visit, and had immediately turned himself into a fixture. After a while he had gotten to know the baristas, and through them, the owner, Molly.

Molly had become somewhat of a second mother to Finn over the years, and, due to their similar fiery red hair, was often mistaken by customers for his actual mother- something Finn found hilarious and she found… not so hilarious, given that she was only ten years older than him. It had been Molly who had helped him overcome his stage fright, had set up his first ever show here at The Burrow way back when. She was also the one who had come through when he was pleading for gigs earlier that week, and even though he was suspicious of the fact that she had, uncharacteristically, not questioned his last-minute request, he had been very happy to see her that evening when she had popped by and helped him untangle a mess of cables.

Now, though, there were only two people Finn wanted to see, and he was hoping to catch them before he started playing. His eyes skimmed across the crowd of cheerful patrons and quickly caught sight of Leo’s tousled blonde curls moving across the room, a head higher than almost everyone else. His smile gave way to a grin as he watched the younger man sit down at a table and pass a drink to Logan. Excitement thrummed in his veins as he pushed off the wall toward them, only to be stopped dead in his tracks when he saw two girls approach the hockey players. He watched as they introduced themselves, and his stomach twisted as Logan sent one of them a cocky, flirtatious grin, pulling out the chair next to him. The girls joined the table and leaned in, and Finn’s smile turned rueful. Of course. He didn’t know what he had been expecting from this reunion exactly, but as he watched Logan flirting shamelessly from where stood, he realized that he had been hoping they felt what he felt when they first met. That they had experienced the same sparks. Now, as reality came crashing down around him in the form of two beautiful girls, he recognized how ridiculous those hopes had been. They were NHL players for fuck’s sake. He was an idiot for thinking either one of them could have been anything more than a friend. He gave them one last look and changed his trajectory to the washroom instead.

---

Leo

Leo was worried. He had noticed something was up with Logan as soon as he saw him outside the Burrow earlier that evening. He had been distracted; his eyes distant. By the time they had sat down inside, he was completely in his own head, and the tension in his body was visible. Leo had wanted to ask him about it, but after seeing the panic that flashed across his features when he made a move to do so, he had decided it was best to leave it alone for the time being. Give Logan the chance to bring it up himself.

But now Logan was flirting, openly and brazenly, with this random girl who had recognized him from the Lions, and Leo couldn’t leave it alone anymore.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to seeing Logan flirt — Logan was gorgeous, girls were constantly coming up to him at bars. But he didn’t usually encourage them this boldly. At least not when he was sober, and never if they recognized who he was. They had had more than one lecture from Coach Weasley about power dynamics and taking advantage of people who looked up to them, and Logan took them seriously. This wasn’t like him.

After politely cutting off the conversation he had been trying to hold with the girl now seated beside him, Leo cleared his throat and spoke loudly enough for Logan to hear.

“Hey Tremzy, I think it’s time to go grab that snack.” He sent a bright smile to the girls. “It was really nice to meet you both. I’m glad to hear you’re fans of the team. Maybe we’ll see you at a game sometime.”

He kept that fake smile plastered on his face as he pushed his chair back from the table, catching Logan looking up at him with annoyance clear in his expression. Leo raised an eyebrow and prayed he would go along with him. He didn’t know what was going on with Logan, but what he was doing here was not okay, and it needed to stop.

Logan held his gaze for a moment before he huffed out a breath through his nose, his expression softening as he nodded. The tension he had built up since walking into the coffee shop seemed to bleed out of him as his shoulders dropped. He turned to the now confused looking girl beside him and gave her the same line Leo had used, shaking her hand and standing to follow Leo to the bar.

Leo waited until they were out of earshot before stopping and turning to Logan.

“You want to tell me what that was about?”

Logan sighed in response, pulling his hat off his head and running a hand through his hair before replacing it. “I don’t know. I wasn’t going to take it farther than that, I swear, I just…” He looked down at his shoes. “Look, I’m sorry. Can we just forget about it?”

Leo just watched him, waiting patiently until Logan’s eyes met his again. He reached out and rested a steady hand on his shoulder.

“Are you ok, Tremz? You seem… out of it, tonight.”

“What? No. I’m fine. Really. Just tired.” Logan tried his best to look it, but Leo saw right through him. He had spent the better part of the past year trying to pretend to himself that he didn’t want to learn everything there was to know about the beautiful man in front of him. He had failed, miserably. He knew Logan, and he knew something was still bothering him.

He briefly debated whether or not to push it this time, but even though Logan was clearly not yet fine, getting called out seemed to have helped. He did seem more like himself than he had five minutes earlier. So Leo settled on trying to cheer him up instead, resolving to follow up later when they weren’t in public.

“Alright,” he nodded at Logan, letting him have his excuse, “but you know I’m always here if you need me.”

Then he switched to a teasing voice. “You want me to order you another disgusting excuse for a coffee? Maybe that’ll wake you up.”

Logan let out a small laugh at that, and his smile finally seemed genuine. Leo nudged his shoulder and started moving toward the bar again.

“Come on. Finn’s gonna start any time, and I was serious about the snack. I need cake.”

Leo didn’t need to look back to know that despite the eyeroll he was certain had occurred, Logan would follow him to wherever there were baked goods.

---

Finn

Finn had given himself an excellent pep talk in the washroom, telling himself it was good he had come to his senses about the boys now, while he was alone, instead of embarrassing himself in front of them later. The disappointment he felt was still settled deep in his chest, but he knew himself well enough to be aware that he worked through his feelings best on a stage. And luckily for him, that was where he was currently headed

From the moment he started the show, Finn let himself get lost in the music, feeling his spirits lift back up as he watched the energy of the room rise and fall with his, letting the tempo of the songs he played encourage their dancing or their calm swaying. He had managed to sneak one of his own songs into the set list, and he played it for people for the first time, watching for reactions and not holding back his smile when people seemed to like it. It was a hard one for him to sing, bringing back some not so great memories. He didn’t look for Leo or Logan again, but he knew they were there, and he put in his best effort to make sure they were entertained. By the time he started his final song, his mind was blissfully clear again. Thank god for music.

After wrapping up the show with a grateful thank you to the crowd for their support, Finn started once again looking forward to reconnecting with the two men he suspected would become important to him. He may not be able to get rid of whatever these decidedly non-platonic feelings were, but he was confident he could push them to the side to make room for their friendship.

He had just hopped off the stage – buzzing with post-show energy, sweaty, and looking for water – when a familiar French-Canadian accent sounded from behind him. “Ok, you win. I admit that you are still incredible, even without our help.”

Finn spun around to find a head of dark curls bowing dramatically in front of him, Leo a few steps back with his eyes closed and a hand over his face, as if hiding from Logan’s antics. He threw his arms in the air and grinned at the two of them, genuinely happy to see them. “Guys! You made it!”

That brought a smile out of Leo. “Of course we did,” he laughed as he and Logan both moved in to give him congratulatory high fives, “your show was incredible, by the way. These people really liked you.”

Finn smiled sincerely at that. “Thanks, Leo.”

Leo handed him a bottle of water. “Also, we thought you might want this. You were looking kind of sweaty.”

“Oh my god, you absolute gem of a human,” Finn moaned as he cracked open the bottle, “I was just about to go hunt one of these down.”

Logan watched with an amused smile as he downed the whole thing in one go. “Glad to be of service.”

Finn wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shot them both a grateful look “So much better. Thank you, guys.”

He looked back toward the mess he still had to pack up from the stage. “I need like twenty minutes or so to get this all cleaned up, then did you guys still want to head down to the bar?”

The three of them had previously planned to head out to a place down the street after Finn’s set, and Finn was looking forward to releasing some of the evening’s adrenaline on a dance floor.

“Ya, for sure.” Leo responded, eyes flicking up to the stage. “Is there anything we can help you with?”

“Nope! Cleaning up is a lot easier than setting up. You guys go enjoy yourselves, I’ll be done here quick.”

Leo and Logan looked at one another, and Logan looked like he was about to object, so Finn started shooing them away. “Go!” He encouraged them, waving his hands to guide them back toward the tables. He wanted them to enjoy themselves, not be stuck helping him clean. “It’s fine, I do this all the time, I have a system, I promise. Get a nice drink and relax.”

Logan put his arms up in surrender, green eyes sparkling with laughter as he watched Finn flap. “D’accord, ok, we will go. Put your crazy hands away. Just let us know if we can help, ok?”

Finn agreed, and then watched them head back over to the bar with a smile on his face. He was surprised, he thought to himself as he started looping up cables, at how the interaction left him feeling. He had expected to be a little nervous and awkward, especially after the way the evening began for him, but instead he found himself immediately feeling the sort of comfortable ease that usually comes from being around people you’ve known your entire life. It was like they belonged together.

As friends, he reminded himself. Only as friends. He could totally do this.

---

Logan

Logan leaned against the bar, playing with the strings of his hoodie as Leo once again ordered drinks for them. He was feeling much better now, the knot that had taken up residence in his stomach earlier that evening finally gone. There had been something calming about watching Finn move across the stage, singing familiar covers with an energy that was uniquely his own. He had poured himself into it, connecting to the songs in a way that drew the audience, including Logan, along with his every move. It had been fascinating, seeing that version of Finn. His grin was still mischievous, his movements still wild, but he was also… purposeful. Less dorky on stage than he had been on the dance floor. Logan had been mesmerized. Sitting there next to Leo’s steady, grounding presence, letting Finn’s charisma pull him out of his own head, Logan had slowly unwound. By the time Finn had finished his final song, something unfamiliar that Logan had made a note to download later, he felt much more like himself.

“Hey, Nut,” he nudged Leo’s arm, “ask them what Finn likes. We should get him something for when he’s done.”

Leo looked over as the barista dropped three drinks on the counter in front of him, a stray curl falling in his eyes. “Already on it, Tremz.”

Logan ignored the way he wanted to reach out and push that curl back, and looked down at the drinks, surprised. “Oh shit. You’re fast.”

“Yes, Logan. That’s what happens when you don’t run through the entire list of drinks and their ingredients before you order.” Leo responded drily, standing as he wrapped his long fingers around two of the beverages in front of him.

“Well, how else are you supposed to know which one is going to taste the best?” Logan picked up the third cup, his own iced coffee, and sucked at the straw happily.

Leo huffed out an affectionate laugh. “You get the same thing every time anyway! Why does it matter?”

Logan shrugged as they headed back to their table. “I switch up the flavours sometimes. It’s not my fault nobody’s come up with anything better yet.”

They were still bickering about the pros and cons of knowing every component of your iced coffee when Finn pulled out the chair next to Leo and flopped into it with a grin. “Hey guys! Thanks for waiting.”

Logan looked over at him, definitely not noticing the way the warm lighting brought out the freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose. “Finn!” He cried, pointing at the redhead. “We have a drink for you, but first you have to pick my side in battle.”

Leo’s jaw dropped, affronted. “Logan! You can’t bribe your way to a win!”

“Watch me.”

Finn looked between them, amusement spreading across his face. “Hmm. Well, I don’t know what this battle is, but before I decide whether to help Logan cheat his way to victory, I need to know if the drink is worth it. What’s in it?”

There was a startling flurry of movement as Leo groaned loudly, dropping his face into his hands, and Logan jumped up from his chair with his fists in the air, letting out a victorious cheer. “Aye!! Right answer Finn!” He high fived the redhead and sat back down, feeling triumphant.

Finn laughed, looking startled and confused but accepting his drink from Leo’s outstretched hand anyway. He took a sip as the taller boy fold his arms on the table, dropping his head to hide inside of them.

“Hey! This is my drink. How did you know?”

“We asked the barista,” Leo’s muffled, grumpy, voice came from where his face was still buried in his arms. “She knew.”

“Chin up buttercup!” Logan crowed, leaning over to ruffle Leo’s blonde curls. “It’s ok to lose sometimes. As long as you’re not me.”

Leo lifted his head, eyes narrowed at Logan. “I am not a buttercup.”

Finn couldn’t help laughing at his disgruntled face. “Do you prefer daffodil?” Leo turned the withering glare his way. Finn tried again. “Marigold?”

Leo just dropped his head again.

“Meh, I’ll call that a win. Marigold it is.”

Logan chuckled, deciding it was time to offer up an explanation for the scene Finn had walked into. “Leo doesn’t think it’s important to ask what’s in a drink before you order it. We were discussing why he’s wrong.”

Leo’s head shot back up as he glared at Logan again. “That is NOT what—” He stopped himself, sighing and closing his eyes as Logan just looked at him, face gloating. “You know what. No.” He opened his eyes again and raised his hands in surrender. “It’s fine. I accept my defeat.”

“Good man.” Finn clapped him on the shoulder. “Way to be the bigger person.”

“Thank you, Finn.” Leo smiled at the other man before turning to Logan. His intimidatingly blank goalie face slid perfectly into place as he looked Logan dead in the eyes. “I will get you back for this.”

Logan, used to Leo using this tactic to try and throw him off on the ice, simply met his gaze and grinned back cockily, straw between his teeth. “I look forward to you trying.”

“So,” Finn jumped in, changing the subject, “did you actually like the show?”

Leo turned to him, a genuine smile returning to his face. “We did! You didn’t tell us you wrote original music.”

“Is that what that song was? The last one?” Logan asked, surprised.

“Oh, ya. I don’t always play my own stuff at shows like the one we had in Montreal, but I can usually get away with sneaking a couple in at places like this. It’s part of why I like playing here so much.”

“I really liked it,” Logan complimented Finn, watching a red flush creep across his cheekbones again, “I was actually going to ask you what it was so I could download it. It reminded me of when I first moved to Gryffindor.”

Finn looked at him with an unreadable look on his face. “Seriously?”

Logan nodded, worried that he had said the wrong thing.

“That’s… I wrote that song about Gryffindor. About what it was like when I first moved here and didn’t know anybody. Before I made friends, before I discovered this place.”

“You really captured it.” Leo said softly.

Finn looked flustered, his calloused fingers rubbing the back of his neck in a way that made Logan want to take their place.

Leo, ever intuitive, noticed Finn’s discomfort and changed the subject, “You mentioned you were in grad school, are you studying music?”

“Nope! English Lit.” Finn looked relieved for the new topic, his features brightening. “But I did double major with music in undergrad.”

Logan sat back, content as he listened to the boys across from him talk, first about music and Finn’s connection to the Burrow, then about hockey, chiming in from time to time with questions or stories of his own as they moved smoothly between subjects. The time flew by as they chatted animatedly, and by the time Logan thought to check his watch, it was close to 1 am.

Surprised, he looked up at the room around them and realized it was nearly empty. He hadn’t even noticed people leaving. One of the baristas was sweeping the floor. He waited for Finn to finish a story about the time he had accidentally adopted his neighbours pet (“I helped her look for her cat for almost two weeks before I realized it was the one I had been feeding every night. Embarrassing does not begin to explain.”) to point it out to them.

“Uh, guys, I think we’re about to be kicked out.”

Leo and Finn both looked startled, turning to look around the room the same way he had, and Logan realized he wasn’t the only one oblivious to what had been going on outside of their bubble. The thought made him feel strangely happy.

Finn looked back at Logan, surprised. “Huh. I had no idea. What time is it?”

“Almost one. I know, I didn’t realize either.”

Leo checked his watch. “So it is.” The corners of his mouth turned down a bit, “I guess we aren’t going to the bar then. Sorry guys, I should have been paying attention”

Logan shook his head and reached over to nudge Leo’s shoulder. “Not your fault, Nut, none of us were paying attention.”

“Plus,” Finn added cheerfully, “now we get to add ‘closing down a coffee shop’ to our list of accomplishments as a trio. We already had the bar checked off, so no loss.”

Leo met Logan’s gaze across the table, blue eyes twinkling. “We’ve started a list?”

“Yes.” Finn stated, his voice confident. “We have. Which means we now need to make a plan to cross off the next item on it.”

“Okay,” Logan conceded, leaning his elbows on the table, fingers steepled, “I’ll bite. What’s next on the list?”

Finn looked at him, aghast. “Logan. That is not how the list works. The list is clearly unlabeled. We must first have the adventure, and then name it.”

Logan regarded him for a long moment. He had to give him credit, Finn could hold a straight face when he wanted to. But eventually, a twitch from the corner of his mouth gave him away and Logan dropped his arms and leaned back in his chair, laughing. “You are full of shit.”

Finn grinned in return, all hints of seriousness disappearing as he stood to grab his coat. “Maybe. But either way, we should get together again soon.”

“For sure, drop your schedule in the group chat. I’d love to see you play again, and I’m sure Logan would too.” Leo said as he led them to the door.

Finn’s face lit up at that, and Logan smiled softly at how adorable it was. He felt light and happy as they said their goodbyes, and when he saw Finn’s schedule dropped into their group chat on his cab ride home, he found himself already looking forward to when the three of them could do this again.

#sweater weather lumosinlove #lumosinlove #o'knutzy #I'm still not convinced I know how to do tags right but I am trying my best I promise :(

80 notes · View notes

arkt-nehrim-archive · 3 years ago

Photo

A Story in Spring: Renewal {3/3}

Lithirill would ever covet the certain luxuriousness of Tirmatralian brandy.

Her eyes settled on the moon high above, full and bright, accompanied by a sea of twinkling stars that complimented the cloudless, warm night of a coming Summer. An unpleasant twinge reminded her of a far more chaotic sky-scape, where in place of stars one could argue that -worlds- floated in their place; Fate's Edge.

Shivering free from the memory, the aeterna's fingers trembled as she brought her glass to her lips again, focusing instead on the still growing town of Darlan below. Much like she had been, the populace of surviving residents and new arrivals had busied themselves extensively in revitilization efforts. She played as much of a part as she could, but there was a respectful distance her charges kept; at first she'd worried it was out of -fear-, but as a few of them had put it, it was more the desire to achieve it on their own.

Lithirill could respect that, pondering what more she could do to occupy her time. She had long since successfully returned Narathzul to his physical form, the man content to remain distant in her home city of Al-Rashim so he might find his footing. So too had she completed the arduous task of reconstructing a full set of seraphim wings, knowing she would never forget the spectacle of watching Arkt take flight for the first time in centuries, after so much toil. A joyous event, that had pulled even tears from the old seraph...

Her mind drifted far into the past, remembering the inspirations that had indirectly lead her here. Perhaps that was what she would do next... She had done right by both Narathzul and Arkt for their parts in seeing her this far, now was the time to pick up the old pieces of her studies; reversing the rampant magical contamination eating away at so many places.

She could start with Ostian. After all, it would be a less direct means of keeping an eye on the wily King Taranor Coarek; a man who'd already begun to grow fitful in peace time, having the audacity to proclaim in -her- name the need to "tame" the Southrealm while it was yet without a ruler. The thought didn't escape her that she -could- be more direct in keeping Nehrim from suffering even greater bloodshed...but who would she be then? A hero, or a tyrant? The answer could not be -force- when diplomacy and good sense failed, both of which she had attempted with the northern King, but what then of the indolence of ignoring him? She was all things that could proclaim the right to turn her back on petty "mortal" squabbles while she solved the world's deeper woes, yet she'd be a hypocrite at best, an exact reflection of the regime she'd brought down at worst. It seemed no matter what she chose to do about the stirrings of yet more war, she would be at fault in some way- she could almost hear the venerable Tyr laughing at her struggle.

The tension, despite the beauty of the skies, was palpable. The sense of foreboding hanging over her shoulders had been there since her strange dreams and her terrifying encounter with the soul wardens some months prior. The woman had been non-stop in keeping herself busy since then, but now in the idleness, how quickly that existential dread returned.

In that moment of stifling weight, came the flare of power that announced an arrival of one who always seemed to know when she danced overlong with her troubles without entertaining his considerable aged input. She kept her back turned, sipping at her brandy as she tilted her head at the heaviness of his footfalls; his strides were long, and then she heard the rustling of feathers... She figured out what was to happen all too late, as she barely had time to turn and set her glass down before Arkt's arms found themselves sweeping Lithirill cleanly off her feet, the world awhirl with motion for a handful of heartbeats as inertia flipped her stomach. She might've had something to say about how he'd plucked her from her own balcony like a hawk with a hare, but alas, she noticed first just how much -space- there was between herself and the ground, promptly -clinging- to him, turning her head into his hair.

"...Arkt, I swear to-!" She began, feeling a wave of actual fright and quieting. They briefly dipped in the air as Arkt wheezed with a short laugh, cracking a grin.

"Whatever is there left to swear to? -Us-?"

She dared to peek, an incredulous look swept off her face as she beheld Arkt in rare form.

-Joy- colored every inch of his visible features, as golden hues angled to meet her's.

"Don't worry, you're in no danger of falling. A rather convenient current blows up into the mountains, and makes for the perfect glide from your abode to mine. This is hardly a strenuous flight."

As he spoke, she still hazarded to keep her head -away- from the yawning distance below. Securely in his grip or not, she could still imagine how quickly they'd plummet if his wings gave in any fashion. It was dreadful... It wasn't lost on her how significant this moment was likely supposed to be.

"Are you afraid of heights? Your composure on the Starship had me fooled.~" he inquired, tone as much amused as growing concerned.

"...less heights, and more freefalls." she muttered, alluding to her forays into Nehrim's deeper crevices, which she was certain he had spied upon.

Surprising her yet again, he would draw her away from the past as he pressed a kiss to her hair, keen to watch her cheeks color with some amusement.

"We'll land before you know it." he assured.

The remainder of their time in the air was spent in quiet, Lithirill resolving to take Arkt's timely arrival as the boon it was, settling into watching his feathers sway in the wind. Meditative enough that the awkwardness of the whole arrangement felt far away. Such nearness had gotten easier with time, bordering upon natural now.

As the rather humble cottage came into view, Arkt descended, his wings spreading their widest whilst letting his legs swing toward the earth, landing gracefully and without jostling his charge even a little. The opposite from the crash landing of his first attempt back in the sky.

Setting her down, he was not shy in keeping a wing curled around her while she got her feet under her, offering an apologetic smile.

"Had I known-"

Lithirill lifted a finger to his lips, seeing the seraph blink at her.

"No need for that, my dear. I think I spoiled that lovely gesture enough without you apologizing for it too.~" she murmured, letting her hand fall to her side and idly run a long feather betwixt her fingers, "By the by, was that the surprise you teased at when the snows were setting in?"

Arkt would exhale quietly, his mane of half-curls tumbling over his shoulder as he hummed a chuckle, canting his head to the side, his eyes flicking between the door to his home and her.

"In part. I'm surprised you recall, after so many long nights.~" he returned, his wing curling about her form more tightly as he stepped closer, drawing her flush against him.

She took his cue, though trepidation was catching her, as ever it had and always it would, she suspected. She was, for the first time, plenty welcome as she ran a palm up his muscled form, while the other lost itself between plumage and mane. She took the time to lean back just a little to eye him up and down so she might properly observe how his physique had changed now that his wings were healthy; twas a sight to behold.

"I've said it before Arkt..." she swallowed, striving unsuccessfully to keep the fluttering from beneath her ribs inobvious, "I'm not sure there's anything you could ever do that I'd count as forgettable."

While she floundered, he was the picture of patient certainty, watching her eyes wander before he'd gently cup her jaw and reorient her point of focus.

"Hmmnh...That sounds a touch fanatical." he teased gently, keen to see the last bits of her mask fall away, revealing that quiet, over curious scholar he had been fond of ever since she meandered brave and foolish into Arktwend, "...but I appreciate the sentiment."

Lithirill lips twitched as he held her at the precipice; again. She prepared for the inevitable halt, the respectful redrawing of borders, and in seeing that worry play clear in her eyes, Arkt claimed her lips for his own.

He snaked an arm behind her hips, supporting her form as he indulged a thought abandoned desire, savoring each passing moment as the woman in his arms all but fell into him. Reluctantly, he pulled away, keeping her snugly in place.

"You worry too much.~" he whispered, the statement pulling a husky chuckle out of her. "I'd have you forget your troubles for a time. Or at least until the morrow.~"

~Fin~

#Vynblr #VynSpringEvent #A Story in Spring #Nehrim #Arkt #Lithirill Andethil #Post-Ending

24 notes · View notes

notchesandbullets · 4 years ago

Text

Trouble in the Tavern (Jealous!Shin-ah x Reader)

[Slight spoilers for manga chp 65]

He's jealous, so it gets steamy towards the end. If that's not for you, probably don't read this one. Next one will be more lighthearted.

Words: 2.1k

The Happy Hungry Bunch had stopped in a nearby town just outside of the Kai Empire. Yona had performed her dance and you badly wanted to tease Hak about how he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

Instead, you were drinking away your sorrows because of a certain blue dragon. You wished he would look at you how Hak looked at Yona, but you supposed you couldn't win it all. The others had set up camp outside of the town so as to not draw any unwanted attention, and you had missed the way Shin-ah's eyes followed you as you left for the tavern.

You took another swing of the bottle in front of you, mind wandering aimlessly.

Shin-ah was a force to be reckoned with.

He had grown so much since the start of your journey, and you wished that he would allow you to be there for him as much as he was there for you. He had a habit of watching from the sidelines in silence until intervention was needed, usually between a bickering Jae-ha and Hak.

The booth that you were settled in was red leather, mimicking Yona's hair. You took another sip of the alcohol, wincing as it burned down your throat. Your head knocked back, banging against the dirty wooden wall behind you.

Time to dance.

There was faint music that wasn't very loud, but you just felt like dancing. There were already some present on the floor, and judging by their movements, they were pretty intoxicated. You took your place alongside them, in an empty space and began to sway your hips to the music. Your eyes closed as you let the beats flow over you.

Foreign hands settled on your hips, and you felt a body behind you. Your eyes shot open, immediately going to slap their hands off of your body, but they held you there, making you unable to turn around.

Your lips curled back in a snarl, desperately trying to break free of their grasp. Someone else stepped in front of you, and you looked up, meeting the gaze of an unfamiliar man.

"Eh... What do you think, man?" The voice, you didn't recognize it.

"She'll do. She's quite a beauty after all..." He leered at you, face going to sniff your hair.

You cringed away from him, but your movements were sloppy.

Dang it.

You've had too much to drink.

You felt panic rise in your chest, tightening your throat as they dragged you away. Normally, you'd be able to take them on, no problem, but this time they had caught you off guard. There was no way for you to fight them off.

I shouldn't have drank so much.

His grip has transferred from your hips to your arms, and you could feel the bruises forming underneath his fingertips.

But as the fear set in, their disgusting hands were wrenched from your body. You watched in awe as familiar white fur flooded your vision. Shin-ah let out a low growl at the sight of the bruises on your skin and continued to beat up the men now laying on the ground before you.

He still had his sword strapped to his back, but the swordsman didn't need it. He kept punching them until blood poured from their mouths.

By now, everyone was looking. You faintly heard someone screaming and others were cheering him on, but your gaze was trained on the normally reserved Seiryuu.

He drew back, standing menacingly above them, chest heaving. His body was practically vibrating in fury, and he barely held himself back from taking away their ability to breathe. The two barely conscious men cowered in fear at the sight of the fearsome masked man before them.

"Don't ever touch her again." Shin-ah snarled, baring his teeth threateningly.

How he longed to kill them and unleash the power of his eyes so that could feel excruciating pain before they left this world for good, but he had another priority.

He turned his attention back towards you, cupping your chin tenderly, inspecting you for injuries.

"Are you alright?" His soft voice reached your ears and your head spun at the contrast between the sweet Shin-ah in front of you compared to the raging dragon that he was a few seconds ago.

You shakily nodded your head, and he frowned, not at all liking how terrified they managed to make you in such a short span of time. He took your hand gently in his, leading you away from them and back to camp. He kept you close to his side the whole way there, you were practically tucked in his side, away from anyone's prying eyes.

Before you knew it, you were standing before three bewildered dragons, a very confused Hak, a concerned Yona and a scolding Yoon.

"We weren't supposed to attract any attention!!" Yoon shouted at the two of you, and you hid behind Shin-ah, his broad back shielding you from view and the pretty boy's vicious reprimanding.

Shin-ah dipped his head in apology, and Yoon huffed, eyes suddenly becoming curious. "What did you do anyways?"

He wordlessly held up his hands and gasps of shock could be heard from all around.

"Shin-ah!"

"That looks bad..."

"Oh no, what happened?!"

You peeked around him, jaw dropping in shock at the blood that crusted his knuckles.

Your wide eyes trained on him, filled with guilt. You sobered up fast. As Yoon moved to treat them, you reached out your hand, silently asking to do it instead. He handed them to you a little bit reluctantly, unsure if you'd be able to properly treat them in your drunken state, but your eyes were clear so he took a chance.

As you led him away from the campsite and into the forest, you couldn't stop the rising shame. He had to come save you, again. This wasn't the first time it had happened, and you couldn't help but feel bad that he was always looking out for you.

It's like I'm a kid that needs to be looked after... You thought venomously to yourself.

Shin-ah tilted his head, wondering why you looked angry. He hoped it wasn't aimed at him. He knew that he acted a bit out of character, but he never wanted to see that terror on your face again. It didn't belong there.

You gestured for him to take a seat at the base of the tree so that you could tend to his injuries, but he refused.

"Shin-ah, let me look at them." You insisted, going to swipe the ointment Yoon palmed him out of his hands.

You frowned when he sidestepped you, huffing and placing your hands on your hips.

"Stay still!!"

Lunging for him again, you lost your footing as your intoxicated mind miscalculated the distance between you two and you crashed straight into his chest. A blush bloomed across your cheeks, and you vaguely registered how he stiffened underneath you. You pulled back, apologizing profusely for making him uncomfortable, all while kicking yourself internally.

Idiot. We've been over this.

Holding out your hand for the medicine, he reluctantly caved and gave it to you. As you cleaned his cuts in silence, your bottom lip wobbled dangerously as the events of the night finally started to catch up with you.

Fingers that didn't belong to you gently brushed away the tears you hadn't realized were rolling down your face and you sniffled, wiping your eyes furiously.

He didn't say anything, but his nostrils flared as he saw the discolored skin on your upper arms and wrists. Outstretching his hand, his fingers barely brushed against the bruises, recoiling as he heard your breath hitch.

You caught his wrist before he could pull away, shaking your head furiously. "No, Shin-ah. Please don't leave."

He had no intentions of doing anything of the sort and his mouth set in a hard line at how insecure you were at the moment as a direct result of what those men had done to you. The corner of his lip curled back in disgust as he remembered what could have happened if he had arrived a minute later.

Your gaze lowered, mistaking his silence for another thing entirely. "I'm really sorry, please don't be angry at me."

His head snapped up in shock at your quiet whimper and he moved before he knew what he was doing.

Your eyes shot open as you were crushed in a tight hug, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes for another reason now.

"I'm not... angry at you." He told you quietly.

After you didn't say anything, he sighed, admitting softly, "I'm sorry... I should have... been there sooner."

You pulled back to look him in the eye, disbelief swimming in the depths of your gaze. "Shin-ah, there's no way this is in any way, your fault. I should have at least gotten Jae-ha to come with me so that this sort of thing didn't happen, but I figured he earned the time off."

His body tensed next to yours at the mention of the green dragon's name and you shuffled out of his arms sheepishly.

"Ah... it was stupid of me. I'll make sure to ask him next time, okay? So then you won't have to come looking for me anymore." Hugging your arms close to your body, you suppressed a shiver as his eyes locked on yours.

"No."

You tilted your head, confused. "Shin-ah?"

"No." The blue dragon ground out through clenched teeth. First the men, and now Jae-ha. He had waited too long. "I will go with you next time."

Lifting an eyebrow in astonishment, you hastily tried to repair the damage you thought you had done. "You really don't have to, I don't want to be a bother—"

The low growl that emitted from the back of his throat had you freezing.

"You're not." He nearly spat, beyond upset that you still believed you were bothering them with the most minor of things. He didn't blame you, fully aware of what happened to you to make you think like that, but he couldn't stand thinking that the girl he loved thought that she wasn't even worth the attention or effort from her friends. "I'm coming with you."

You were thick-headed, dense and in denial. "Shin-ah, you really don't have to—"

He groaned in frustration, surging forward and smashing his lips onto yours. The rage he had felt earlier when he saw those men touch you without your permission coupled with the jealousy coursing through his veins when you mentioned the seductive green dragon had become too much for him to restrain himself.

You squeaked in surprise at the forwardness of his kiss, caught off-guard by how fervently he was moving his lips against yours. Breaking out of your trance that this was really happening, you responded with vigor, sighing blissfully as he detached himself from your soft lips and began trailing kisses and bites along your jaw and neck.

"Shin-ah..." Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as he found your pulse point, curses flying from your mouth when he sucked on it harshly.

It was so unlike him that it had you practically purring for more. Even when he was worked up, he was just as gentle as ever, if not a little passionate.

His hands started to roam over your body, sliding underneath your thighs to hoist you onto his lap, not once pulling away from your intoxicatingly soft skin. Neck bared for him and only for him, he panted heavily, pressing his lips back to yours insistently.

Your mind had grown so hazy with the overwhelming flood of sensations that you barely heard him talking to you.

"What?"

The low chuckle made you bite your lip shyly.

"I said..." Shin-ah repeated, pecking your forehead sweetly. "You're mine."

A playful smile tugged on the corner of your lips and your eyes sparkled with mischief. "Oh?"

He nodded firmly and you giggled.

"Do I get a say in this?"

You saw him flush deeply and laughed out loud, knowing that if it were any other time, that would've been the first thing he would've asked you. You took a gander at what you thought spurred this out-of-character streak.

"Shin-ah, were you jealous?"

"Yes." He didn't even blink.

Moaning softly as he worked over the column of your throat, he asked timidly, so unlike the bravery he had displayed before. "... Be mine?"

And in the night of your solitude, you found solstice in the blue dragon. Eyes softening, you captured his lips tenderly with yours. "Shin-ah, I would be most honored."

#akatsukinoyona #akatsukinoyonafanfic #jealousshinah #jealousshinahxreader #shinahxreader #shinah #fanfic #oneshot #steamy #fluff #protectiveshinah #yonaofthedawn #yonaofthedawnoneshots

129 notes · View notes

10millionyearsdungeon · 4 years ago

Text

Hydrophilinae

A/N: Okay, sinners, this one was work. Breaking from my usual, I picked another unsung character from the pack and...well, this left me feeling somewhat unnerved throughout for various reasons. It’s part of the BNHArem “Choose your fantasy” collab. Consider this a teaser for what to expect with Kinktober, lovelies. Thanks for @hisoknen and @dymphnasprose for beta reading, and for not letting this kick my ass. I went a more modern fantasy route, and was inspired by my recent trip with the husband and friends to the beach...Presenting: Monoma Neito, the Phantom Thief. For you brainier readers out there, the title alludes directly to the type of creature I based our handsome (if unstable) suitor on. Enjoy~ ================================================= Every year at summer’s end you and your family would retreat to the shore. The house you stayed in, borrowed from a family friend in exchange for the occasional odd job or favor from your father and brothers, was one of the oldest on the island. The town that settled there was an old fishing outpost, and many of the locals who lived there year round still tended to their nets by hand and left symbolic offerings to the regional deities to bless their boats and ensure a bountiful catch. As a child you grew up chasing your brothers along the private docks and across the island as they hunted for the next big adventure. This year was different-- you came alone this year, your family too busy or unable to come down the coast with you for your annual retreat, but your benefactor extended the invitation to your friends to soften the blow.

Keys in hand, you looked at the house with its pale green siding and something about the familiar sight of the brackish water lapping along the pylons rising from the sea made you feel uneasy. You couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched as your girlfriends screamed and cooed over how excited they were to have the entire house to themselves for the week. They scrambled to unpack the cars as you stared out across the water from the carport, the unusual stillness of the waves making you uneasy.

The longer you stared, the more intense the sensation of being watched became. You couldn’t see anyone standing out on the sandbar, and there weren’t any boats sailing across the sound. Shaking it off, you continued to unpack, only half paying attention to the conversations bubbling around you. It was nothing, you told yourself. Just some pre-vacation paranoia…”An afternoon at the beach might make me feel better, “ you sighed, peeling your clothes off to change. The transition from unease to vacation-ready was tenuous, but necessary if only to shut up your housemates for the week. The walk to the beach was a short one, thankfully.

The world melted away under the summer sun. Sand between your toes, you took to reading the waves, eyes resting wistfully on the whitecaps as they broke on the shore. Something pulled you from your spot in the blistering sands and past the breakers. It started as a whisper, begging you to go further. You were past the whitecaps, just treading over the gentle roll of the tide pulling you out to sea. You couldn't feel sand beneath your toes, and time slipped away from you. All that existed is the glint of the sun off the water and the constant rolling waves. It was almost peaceful out there between the sea and sky. Even underwater you could feel that pull, the familiar song begging you to submit.

"Come closer, follow me deeper. Trust me."

You followed, entranced by the call, by that warmth in your chest when the waves crashed overhead. By the time you surfaced and glanced back at the shore, the people were ants crawling along the sandy strip in the distance.

Hesitant to go further, you felt something cool brushing against your legs. Soft, almost lovingly caressing your calves as if to soothe the soreness from your exertion, you swore they were long, pale fingers ghosting over your skin. You'd sigh if you could afford the breath it would waste. Opting to float on your back, sound and sight deprived from the blinding sun and sting of salt water, you contemplated what it would mean to give in. The song conjured your thoughts to wander deeper into your most secret fantasies. A handsome face framed in gold with piercing blue ice chips swimming in a polar sea haunted your thoughts and you swore you could almost taste him with every spray that coated your lips. The wandering phantom hands grew bolder as they traced up the curve of your thighs. Shivers danced up your spine as another wave rocked your body farther away from the shore. “Come with me,” you heard the silk and velvet of his voice resonate through the water. You had but a moment to take a single breath before you were yanked from the sundrenched world above the breaking tide. The sudden violent seizure from the surface world left you spluttering under the waves. Eyes burning, you caught the flash of platinum hair and arctic-white skin peppered with indigo scales along his toned obliques and shoulders. There was almost something reptilian in the way he moved through the balmy water. His azure eyes rested expectantly on your thrashing frame, and he smiled. So caught up in your fight to the surface, you failed to notice the long serpentine tail coiling around your dwarfed body, keeping your head from just breaking the surface. “You took too long,” he chided, wagging a pale finger in front of your horrified face. “You’re in my world now...and I don’t like to be kept waiting.” Your voice was numbed by the brine encasing your vocal cords, a fact he seemed mildly annoyed by. Vision in dappled sunlight, your caller twisted his dark coils tighter around your hips and rested the tip of his tail between your thighs. Entranced by his otherworldly beauty, you allowed yourself to go limp in the dark coils of his winding tail. His pale hands wandered along your body, casually inspecting your warmth as he went along. The current didn’t seem to affect him the way it did you, nor did the violent rising of the tides. Suspended in endless blue, you choked out a muffled cry as he gripped the swell of your breast with a harsh hand.

Your lungs burned, begging for oxygen, but trapped in the clutches of the smirking leviathan you found that you stopped caring as soon as you felt his scales rubbing along your legs. Caught between his siren song and your sense of self preservation, you writhed against his tail, the friction between your thighs and into your core further clouding your judgment. He peeled away the triangle of fabric hiding your breasts from view and flicked the forked tip of his serpent's tongue along your exposed bud, his grip holding you against the current.

Your mouth opened in a soundless moan at the slick sensation on your nipple and with it came the burning cry for oxygen in your chest. Locked in against the smooth, shimmering jet scales, consciousness seemed a distant dream. As the darkness crept in, devouring your sundrenched world, you felt him sink his teeth into the tender flesh of your breast and the writhing of silken skin along your core. You felt your body sink into the serpent's clutches, ripping you from the world you knew before. As the tingling in your breast flooded through to your periphery, you found yourself not caring if you met your demise in the arms of a handsome mythical beast. In the back of your mind, you couldn't shake the idea that it wasn't real-- it couldn't possibly be. Offhanded you promised yourself that you'd stop binge drinking with your girlfriend's on an empty stomach again.

++ “Come to me…”

The sound pulled you from your bed, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Nearly 3am, you couldn’t understand why you would be awake just to look across the water. It was too early for the other boats to be off their mooring, and the world was quiet other than the slapping of the waves against the waterlogged wet-dock.

"Come with me, come to Monoma," a soothing voice whispered above the waves. You were alone on the balcony off of your room overseeing the bay. There wasn’t another living soul above the water who could be calling to you so alluringly. You wanted to turn back, withdraw back inside the safety of the house and curl back up into your bed until morning. You didn’t want to answer the call, but your body wasn’t your own anymore. Limbs heavy, you felt as if moving through a dream. Despite the warmth in the air, the wind blowing in off the water made your lungs seize with the frost of winter. You climbed down the stairs to the wet dock, that calming male voice whispering to you. It started as a warmth in your chest. Your toes were at the end of the pier, the turbid water kissing each one in warning. You trembled, searching for the source of the voice when you finally saw him.

Blond hair slicked back with brine, pale blue eyes fixed firmly on your enthralled being, he smiled and held a hand out to you from the tide. "Come with me," he sang teasingly. His lips were blue against the snow of his skin. Reason begged you to turn away, to forget the voice and it's alluring owner. You knelt to meet him and the constant of his smile only to feel him whisper his song against your lips again. "Come with me." The melodic sound crested with the waves as they lapped against the dock. Frozen to the spot, you felt your breath seize in your chest as the blond smirked impassively in his scrutiny. Your eyes closed and for a second you could taste ice and salt on your tongue. ++ Sunlight poured in through the blinds. Head feeling ten sizes too large, you moaned into the small space of your room and shielded your eyes from the brutal sun. “There was no way…” Your mouth was dry, almost gritty as you pushed from your bed and climbed down the stairs to find the house was empty. “I guess everyone’s already at the beach…” you murmured to yourself, casually raking your eyes over the half-empty bottles staggered along the kitchen bar. It always fell to you to pick up the pieces after a wild night with your friends, but this one felt like you were on the outside looking in. Did you have too much to drink? You still tasted salt and sand on your lips, the memory of the blue-eyed man with his intoxicating voice still lingering like a bad dream. As you returned the bottles to the liquor cabinet and wiped down the alcoholic remnants of your friends’ breakfast from the counter tops, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. You collected your things for the day and loaded into your car to drive into town to collect supplies, all the while struggling to ignore the ache in your chest that something or someone had invaded your temporary home. Pulling out of the carport, you glanced up across the private dock and could have sworn you saw a flash of platinum blond hair glinting in the sun at you in the rolling waves. The old man running the general store for the island was a tanned, gnarled caricature of a person, but his grinning face was one you had known since childhood. Old Nobu waved you over and took your basket from your arms. He took one glance into your tired face and frowned. “Y/n, you look rode hard put away wet. What’s going on?” You waved your hand and smiled sheepishly. “Nothing. Just cleaning up after my pack of wild animals.” He nodded, raising a skeptical brow at the haunted look in your eyes. “Really, Nobu, I’m fine.”

"Y'know, if you and your friends aren't careful, you're gonna get snatched up." You rolled your eyes. Getting snatched up from your getaway would be the least of your friends' concerns considering half of them were more worried about making their potential "dick appointments" with some of the local shipyard workers. You shook your head and gave the old man a grateful, if forced, smile and continued on your way. Car loaded with groceries, you drove the five minutes back to the beach house, curious to find it still devoid of your friends. Your keys jingled emptily as you balanced the heavy bags on your hip and fumbled with the lock, all the while failing to ignore the sensation of ethereal eyes boring through your thin sweatshirt. The gulls cried a lonesome dirge overhead and you were met with the roar of a second car pulling into the port beside yours, your friends’ giggling and screaming as they filtered out of the enclosed space and up the stairs breaking the comfortable quiet. “Y/n! Come here! Meet these cuties we brought back!” You rolled your eyes and retreated into the chill of the house and its air conditioning. The last thing you needed to complicate your vacation was some vapid boy out to score. The boys filed in with your girlfriends and dug into your groceries, earning another defeated sigh. Abandoning the task, you snuck past the starving horde and slunk to the private dock, your father’s boat still moored tightly to the pier. “My, I didn’t think I’d find someone so pretty pouting in a place like this.” Recognition sparked behind your eyes as you pulled away from the waves, an all too familiar shock of platinum hair and slow, casual smile greeting you with a chuckle. “You know, it’s rude to stare, Y/n.” Your eyes widened for a brief moment, only for you to turn your attention back toward the deceptively calm waters. “Shouldn’t you be upstairs with the others?” He seemed to consider your question for a moment, his smile never wavering. “Why? I didn’t come here for them.” He spoke with such certainty, as if it was painfully obvious why he would come and invade your personal space. “Besides, you’re being a poor host, Y/n…” the way he sang your name made your skin crawl. The way the sunlight reflected from the alabaster of his sculpted torso burned your eyes. Did he even see the sun? Pale as he was, there was something undeniably attractive about him, the confidence he exuded. “I don’t recall giving you my name, or being properly introduced.” “Neito~! Come back up here and show these ladies how to take a proper shot!” your friend drunkenly cooed down at the young man. He waved her off casually and held out his hand to you, as if to lead you back into the chaos above. “Come with me?” The way his tongue lolled over the syllables of his request had you frozen to the spot. Did it always sound like that? The familiarity of his request chilled you, your blood practically freezing in your veins as he hummed and raked those devastating blue eyes along your frame. Your breath seized in your chest and you shook your head, withdrawing closer to the boat. The boy licked his teeth and swallowed back his distaste for your rejection. “I’ll ask again: come with me.” It came out as an order, the blond now visibly fuming at your refusal. You turned your back to him and returned your gaze to the pale green waters lapping at your ankles earning an ill-concealed growl of annoyance from the blond. Your friends called out to the blond again, and as quickly as his seething came on, it evaporated behind a cruel-yet carefree simper. It wasn’t right; the way he so casually invaded your space, the familiar way he rolled your name on his tongue like honey; all of it left you feeling like a stranger in your own skin. Your friends invited an anonymous man, several anonymous men into your sanctuary away from the bustle and exhaustion of the city, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that they unwittingly led a viper into the den. ++ 3 am rolled by, and again you were pulled from your bed by that same haunting call. You didn't even open your eyes before your ankles were in the water and the wooden dock was digging into the backs of your thighs.

He smiled intently and rested his forearms on your lap. He smelled like salt water and sunlight resting on your thighs. "Hello, again," he hummed, toying with the hem of your sleep shorts. His chest was bare, almost milky white contrasting with the green of the water. The water was a mirror, still aside from the gentle rippling of the tide. In your hazy state, the contrary waves and swirling of the water kissing against your legs seemed ordinary. Otherworldly, the man casually stroking his icy hands along your bare thighs had you hypnotized by the empty sky in his eyes.

"We've got to stop meeting like this,” you breathed out. He made himself comfortable and rested his chest against his folded arms, chilling you skin wherever he touched. "I don't even know your name."

"Doesn't matter, darling. I know you well enough. Besides, you'll be mine soon enough."

You pursed your lips and he smiled again, still stroking your inner thighs with piqued interest in how to best steal your innate warmth.

"Are...are you the Phantom Thief?" He scoffed openly at the question, rolling those gorgeous eyes at you mockingly.

"And if I am?"

His reply was simple, yet loaded. Without anything else to go by, you leaned back and sighed through your nose.

"This is some dream," you half mumbled out, knuckles turning white with how hard you held onto the dock. Your pulse raced and every fiber screamed for you to get away, to put as much distance between you and the blue-lipped Adonis in your lap. He looked a little taken aback by your comment, but rolled with it all the same. Your ignorance played into his favor after all. Something in his easy smile chilled you to the marrow. Out of the corner of your eye you could have sworn you saw the rippling of jet scales breaking the polished mirror of the sound.

"I'm a dream, am I?" His voice was haunting, tone at the edge of condescending when he ran a pale hand through his slick flaxen hair. You nodded dumbly and earned a chuckle for your honesty. "Let's make it a pleasant one then," he humed, pulling his torso from the water to feather butterfly kisses along your neck. Your skin bubbled with goosebumps. Caught between revulsion and delight, you stiffened with his advances. His giggle made your stomach churn, adrenaline forcing your heart to pound against your ribs so hard your chest hurt.

"I...I know you." The words numbed your mouth as they tumbled past your lips. He was so close, painfully, teasingly close. "I think I do."

"Curious you can still think." His fingertips were freezing against your skin as they ghosted past the hem of your shorts and along the crease of your thigh. A shiver made you keen into his wandering hands as he tugged your shorts and panties to the side to tease along your lower lips. "That won't last long," he purred.

The water below churned with another gentle wave, splashing over your soft whines against his cheekbone. The rolling of sporadic waves lapping against his back and your calves hinted that something huge was looming in the deep. Cool scales and thick muscle brushed against the soles of your bare feet, a sensation that had you bucking into the blond's fingers. He leered down at where his fingers disappeared into the warmth of your cunt, stretching the circles of muscle with curiosity. You squirmed into the burn as he scissored his fingers against your tight walls, humming at the pleasant slick coating his digits as you whimpered into the chilly night. It wasn't a loving embrace; it felt more like an examination, like he was searching your most intimate parts for that telltale ridge that would send you careening into bliss.

"Come for me," he sang into your ear, the purr almost compelling you to arch into his grasp and follow him into the depths. Feeling you convulse into his hand, he grinned sardonically, digging his fingers deeper until he felt that tight ring of dense tissue pucker and spasm against his finger tips. "Come," he ordered, compelling you against all reason to obey. His ultramarine eyes shone brightly in the floodlight off your balcony into the bay, ebony scales practically sparkling like polished onyx along the white perfection of his completion. He opened his mouth as you came, needle-point fangs gleaming before he sunk them into the meat of your neck. You came undone on his fingertips as he prodded at the neck of your cervix, groaning into your bloodstained flesh with every wash of his tongue.

Your body went limp against the dock, held up only by his strong torso and the coils of strong muscle and scales twisting underfoot. How much time passed before you regained control of your faculties? Body heavy and brain hazy, you moaned into his bare chest, aching from the loss of him. "Of course you'd be perfect for this. I knew you would be," he crooned, the dock rolling suddenly under you. Your eyes remained glued to the waves, but the waters were calm. Staring blankly ahead as the lights along the opposing shore twinkled in a twilight taunt, you felt yourself lurch forward, folding over your molester's hard shoulder. The sun was beginning it's slow climb above the horizon, the waters so clear you could see the snails and crabs scuttling along the bottom between the twisting, swirling coils of an impossibly long serpentine tail. Paralyzed by the burning, numbing sensation pooling into your fingers and toes you were helpless against him as he pulled you into the water.

Salt water burned your sinuses and lungs on the way down, the constant drag against the current only driving more water into your airways. You wanted to scream, to fight back but your body wasn't your own anymore. The struggle you craved was answered by leadened limbs and the swirling sea as the phantom thief carried you through the current. Cold water rushed into your lungs, and for a moment, in the strong arms of your captor, you thought you were going to die beneath the waves and no one would ever know. The intense pressure of the deep blue crushing your body as he carried you swiftly through the swirling darkness made your nerve endings sing your impending funeral dirge. It was only a matter of time before the warmth left your body, robbed by the invasive chill of the surrounding blue. When you came to, you rolled to your side, bent over onto yourself and forced the seawater from your lungs and belly with heavy, shuddering heaves. Just when you thought you had expelled everything left in your body another wave of nausea ripped through and had you retching against the stones cradling your battered body. Teeth chattering, you pulled your knees into your chest and shivered, cold sinking down to your bones. “You’re not going to get any warmer like that.” Your muscles locked from the chill, but you knew the voice taunting you from across the din. The bite at your neck oozed with every throb of your quickening pulse. You heard his footfalls before you saw him. Your pale Adonis towered over your shivering body, bare to the elements and proud. He crouched down, canting his head with an impassive raise of his brow and ran a surprisingly human hand through your soaked hair. Even in the dim light of the cave he was deceptively gorgeous. “Surprised you survived. Good. Now the real fun can begin,” he sang. The cavern itself was a natural marvel, all violet hues and soft-worn stone. The pale green glow of bio-luminescent snails and starfish mirrored the night sky you were forced to abandon.

If it weren't for the spasming of your muscles from the cold or the bite of pumice against your palms and knees you would almost be impressed. Instead, your awe and wonder we're tainted by the deep shadows cast on your captor's face as he drew closer, always leering at your shivering frame. He stood proudly on two legs and reached out to quiet your chattering teeth with a harsh and heavy hand latching onto your jaw. His white-blond hair fell into his eyes and for a moment you swooned, chest and neck throbbing in tandem with your racing heart.

"Neito…?" you whispered. He furrowed his brow and hovered over your lips with a wicked grin.

"Ah, yes…that’s one of my names. Figures you’d be the one to have enough sense left to recall." he forced you back to the stone floor, crawling along your body as if to offer you warmth and comfort. "You couldn't just be one of those brainless, little collections of holes like the others. So...complex, but that’s why you’re so special," he purred, digging his fingers into your abused cunt. "It's only a matter of time before my venom runs its course. You'll feel it...burning its way through your pathetic little veins and you’ll beg for the cold." The quaking wracking through your body wasn’t from the freezing water clinging to your skin, but the fear seeping to the forefront of your mind. He sneered at your cries and ran a tongue along hypodermic fangs, teasing another droplet of cloudy venom out to drip along your exposed flesh. The fire building in your core was immense, burning its way from your chest and threatening to devour you from the inside out before the shifting terror slipped his glamour as your pussy clenched futilely around his agile fingers. It robbed you of voice, urged you to buck into his coaxing hand. “That’s it, darling…You’re almost ready.” You dared to look up at him, capturing a fleeting glance at him when the scales wavered into view along pale marble forearms and the cut of his torso. The gradient from his snowy complexion and the midnight sky of the winding serpent’s tail cradling you on the cavern floor would have been stunning if you weren’t choking out what you felt could be your last breaths. You could feel a slimy growth nudging you from behind. The sudden texture change from smooth to slick made your skin crawl in a way that made your stomach twist in on itself in new ways. It rubbed between your ass cheeks through your soaked shorts in a way that made you feel violated. The titan above you let out a shuddering groan, mouth open enough for you to watch that all too familiar forked tongue loll out in twisted pleasure. His fingers tirelessly worked your spasming cunt open, and it dawned on you exactly what he intended as his combined saliva and secreted venom drooled into your mouth in nauseating ropes and coated your lips and cheeks. As your body relaxed into the abuse, the appendage grew bolder, slipping under your clothes to tease you directly. “That’s it, darling, relax for me. Relax for Monoma,” he purred. You could taste his lust and the fact that your body obeyed without a fight made you want to cry. He withdrew his hand from your core and watched as you whimpered over the loss of him exploring your quivering hole. “Relax,” he crooned. “It’s not going to fit if you fight like that.” The heat threatening to consume you stoked hotter as you spread your legs and melted into his glistening coils. “That’s it…” You turned into your belly and your cheek brushed against the smooth stone almost instinctively. Suddenly feeling even more exposed, you fought to squirm away only to be met with another swift bite to your shoulder and high cackle. “Ah, ah, ah, darling.” Without another word, you felt the air hit your back and bare ass-- clothes ripped asunder by claws like polished glass and you never felt so small. Something slick and strong teased up into your throbbing pussy, earning Monoma a keening moan that echoed throughout the titan’s lair. It was sweet music, a prelude to the overture he’d pull out of your curious little body. Your breath caught in your chest when you felt the fork of his tongue tease into the deepest reaches of your sex, and he knew you were ripe and ready for him to claim. More heat built up in your core and your screaming only fueled the serpent’s pleasure. He continued his tease and growled at your near-release, swiftly retracting his tongue from your spasming cunt with a cruel spank. “You’re mine, darling.” You felt the flexing of smooth, silken scales dragging between your thighs as your kidnapper shifted himself along your body. The human-like torso draped over your back gave way to that all too familiar slickness rubbing along your lower lips. Monoma at your ear, he let out a shuddering gasp as the tip of his cock teased your warmth. “Or you will be, soon enough…Gods, you’re delicious,” he moaned out. It only grew harder and slicker the longer he rutted against you, filling you with revulsion over what you had been reduced to. Strong arm wrapped around your waist, he positioned your frame to his liking and plunged that slimy cock into your waiting pussy. It was nothing like you’d ever felt before- the way it filled every inch and then some, how it seemed to caress against your cervix and g-spot simultaneously with its length, every thrust sending you deeper into maddening pleasure. The tip of his elegant tail brushed against your engorged clit and nearly sent you into a thrashing orgasm. It was enough to distract you from the second appendage slipping its way between your ass cheeks to tease your neglected asshole. The slick collecting against your skin banished your thoughts and reduced you to exactly what he wanted-- you were nothing more than a cocksleeve to quiver and moan out for him as he emptied his clutch into your waiting womb. The sensation of gel-encapsulated eggs sliding through into your clenching uterus left you brushing the highest peaks of euphoria. Lovingly, he rubbed his hand along your tightening abdomen and purred in your ear. “Come for me, darling. It’ll be easier to accept them if you come for me.” “Please,” you whimpered as another egg glided effortlessly to join the others. Being pumped so full and kept cycling on that high made you dizzy. Tunnel vision claimed you and consciousness abandoned you, leaving you just another warm body for the serpent to rut into as you spasmed and came around his cock involuntarily. It was a loaded “please.” Please be just a dream, please be just another figment of my overactive imagination. Please make me cum again. Please let me go. In the sweet embrace of the dark, you floated between reason and safety. You would wake in your bed and go about the rest of your vacation, at least that was the hope. Perhaps a dreamless sleep would have been preferable to the hellscape your imagination conjured… ++ Another morning came and with the rising of the sun, you found yourself aching, bruised, and entirely too dressed. Your neck throbbed dully under the thin cotton of your t-shirt, and your arms and legs were covered in bruises you couldn’t recall getting. Was it another crazy night of blackout drinking with the girls? You pushed those thoughts aside and opened your eyes to find you weren’t alone. Staring longingly beside you was the same familiar blond from a few days before. Those empty blue eyes burned through you in a way that left you frozen; his hand blazed a trail over your stomach and rested just above your panty-line in reverence. Confused, or maybe half-asleep, you pushed his hand away and nearly folded in on yourself when you felt your insides shift. The fluttering in your lower belly made your blood run cold. You sat up and glanced down at the slight bulge disappearing back into your skin as another curved you to meet your own hovering hand, as if attracted to the warmth from the outside. Neito grinned and propped himself up on an elbow to watch you slowly piece together your new lot. He flicked his forked tongue at you teasingly and dragged you closer so he could feel his hatching clutch flit inside your accommodating womb. “Aren’t they beautiful, darling?”

#bnharem collab #bnha smut #kinda horror?#tw: alcohol #tw: noncon #tw: drugging #tw: blood #tw: biting #tw:teratophilia #tw:monsterfucking #tw:oviposition #tw: implied broodmare #tw: forced pregnancy #tw: molestation #monoma smut #monoma x reader #monoma x reader smut #bnharem #i need an adult

177 notes · View notes

firefly-in-darkness · 4 years ago

Text

Misconceptions - 9/12

Characters: Y/N, Avengers

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Series Summary: Bucky Barnes overhears a conversation that he shouldn’t have…

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Panic attack, torture & violence, angst...

Beta: The always lovely, Stacey - @princessmisery666 - honestly she’s amazing // all mistakes are my own.

A/N: Hope you enjoy this part - we are slowly making progress!!

Catch up with the series here: Misconceptions Series List

Return to Firefly’s Library & Masterlist

Previously:

Sam: Y/N and I are heading back to watch movies, wanna join? Ask the others too.

Nat: Wanda and I are just in town, be back about 11.

Sam: Okay, gives us a chance to talk about the Winter Soldier sized elephant in the room.

Nat: Y/N still hasn’t made a move? James won’t, you know that!

Sam: And that’s why we need to push them in the right direction.

Nat: I’m in. See you later.

Y/N had avoided Bucky in every way possible; at family dinner, she’d sit at the opposite end of the room and on movie nights, she’d squish herself between Sam and Wanda. She even managed to have minimum interaction during missions, keeping the unavoidable interaction strictly professional. They hadn’t been alone on a mission since she was held hostage by Davenport, but she suspected Sam had had some influence over that. He was still protecting her.

Despite Sam’s interference, Y/N knew her luck would run out at some point.

Steve’s voice came through the comms, “If anything happens, head to our rendezvous point.”

Everyone had their part to play on the mission to look for evidence of new Hydra cells forming on the south coast of Brazil. Nat and Steve infiltrated the building to search for any intelligence. Sam and Tony were on the rooftops with the important roles of being lookout, instructed to only take to the skies to stop any incoming assailants.

Y/N was stationed with Wanda and Bucky on the ground; civilian and surveillance duty. For once, the intel was correct; no enemies lying in wait as they scouted their areas, Wanda in the Northeast and Bucky to the Northwest.

Y/N’s eyes scanned the South West section, watching the parents dragging their children across the crosswalk and tour guides giving their speeches. She leant back on the side of her car and sipped the coffee, her lipstick staining the polystyrene cup. Nothing out of the ordinary. She froze coffee partway to her lips again. He was only a short distance away and he was staring straight back at her. But it couldn’t be. Not here. Not in this crowd. His dark eyes glared back at her no matter how much she reasoned it couldn’t be him. Davenport.

He was only a road breadth away. Her heart pounded against her chest. Quicker and quicker. Her mouth dried and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. Sweat slicked at her palm and she didn’t feel the coffee cup fall from her grip or the hot liquid splashing across her legs, even though the thin leggings did little to soak up the hot liquid.

Y/N’s ears buzzed as a lorry drove past, temporarily blocking the view of Davenport. And he was gone. She spun around looking for him, eyes flickering between the tourists and others gathered around. Nothing. He’s in jail; a maximum security prison. He can’t get to me. She conjured images of him handcuffed in a cell, then her thoughts flashed back to her captivity.

Her wrists still ached from the restraints, could still feel the way he stroked her cheek before slashing a knife across her stomach. The laughter that ripped from him made her recoil, his stinking breath warm on her face, as he watched her attempt to hold back her screams of agony.

She screwed her eyes shut and shook her head, a feeble attempt to bring her concentration back to the mission. She reached down to pick up the coffee cup when a hand gripped her bicep and pulled her up. She spun with the arm that pulled her and struck out. Her fist collided solidly with a jaw and she took a great sense of satisfaction with the grunt of pain that followed it. The haze faded and her vision focused on Bucky rubbing at his cheek.

“Oh shit,” her eyes widened, “I didn’t see you. I-”

Panic bubbled in Bucky’s chest as Y/N ignored every call of her name through the comms. He knew she wouldn’t go quiet on purpose and his fear began to wrap around his brain like a fog. Y/N. His thoughts filled with her; laughing, crying, smiling, scolding. His heart pounded against his rib cage, threatening to break free. His boots thudded on the concrete in time with his panicked heart as he raced to her.

He spotted Y/N as he rounded the corner, standing in front of the car, her pale face staring into the distance, eyes unblinkingly locked on something in front of her. He followed her line of sight and scanned the crowd. He didn’t see anyone or anything that appeared hostile. But he knew something wasn’t right as the coffee cup slipped from her fingers, Bucky pushed past the people in his way to reach Y/N. He saw her knees buckle and drop to the ground. He skidded across the bonnet, grabbing her arm and pulling her up.

Bucky’s head cracked to the side; he hadn’t seen the fist coming in his direction. He backed away slightly, rubbing his cheek, in shock at her reaction. He pulled her close as she attempted an apology, holding her tight to his chest, wrapping his arms securely around her shoulders.

“Are you compromised?” Steve asked.

Bucky scanned the immediate area. No one was looking at them. No one had noticed. “No,” Bucky answered quickly. “No, we’re fine.”

“Take her to the safe house on Taunton Street, we’ll come by to get you both tomorrow.” Steve’s commanding voice was laced with concern. “Look after her Buck.”

“Looks like we don’t need a plan to get them alone after all.” Nat’s voice snarked through his ear and he could hear the shit eating grin she had on her lips.

Bucky shook his head at Nat’s comment and took out his earpiece, one arm still wrapped around Y/N. Her hands gripped his t-shirt, the fabric creased under her whitening knuckles. Her laboured breathing was hot and sticky against his neck. He rubbed soothing circles into her back and whispered sweet words, feeling her body relaxing second by second.

Bucky guided Y/N into the passenger seat of the car, fastening her seatbelt and walking around to the other side. He drove away from the town centre and into the winding streets of the residential area, glancing at Y/N as she leant against the car door, staring into the distance.

Bucky’s hand rested palm up on the middle console, hope bloomed in his aching heart as he felt her fingers lace between his. The warmth of her touch filled his soul with comfort.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” Bucky’s words were soft, weaving their way through the buzzing in her ears.

Y/N watched the world go by in a blur; buildings, trees, people disappearing as Bucky drove them out of the town. She collected her jumbled thoughts and went to move in her seat when she realised her hand had slipped into his. Her cheeks flushed and she pulled her hand away. A fake cough used as a cover to use the hand that had slipped into his to cover her mouth.

She glimpsed at Bucky’s profile, his focus on the road, his jaw ticking slightly as he moved his hand away from the console and back to the steering wheel. Guilt raked through Y/N, barbed wires scratching through her resolve to keep her distance from him.

“Thank you.” Y/N whispered, just loud enough for the Super Soldier to hear.

Bucky nodded and turned the car into an underground lot, putting it in park and climbing out. Y/N took the outstretched hand, he offered as he opened the door, and tentatively stepped out the vehicle. He dropped her hand the moment she was upright, the loss of his touch made her stomach drop. Get a grip. She steeled herself and followed him to the trunk.

“I know we can’t talk about it yet but, I’m okay.” Y/N commented, sheepishly.

Bucky acknowledged her attempt at conversation with another nod and grabbed the rucksacks, closing the lid lightly. They approached the coded panel door, pushing through once the door buzzed from the lock disengaging and giving them access to the stairs.

Two flights of stairs and a long corridor later they were in a small apartment. The walls were white throughout, basic furniture adorned the living space and a two-seater fold down table was pinned to the kitchen wall.

“Is your hand okay?” Bucky asked, rubbing his face with a slight twitch at his lips.

“Yes, I know how to throw a punch and you’re not made of marble.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Go freshen up if you want, I’ll try and sort some food.” Bucky offered.

Y/N gave him a soft smile and picked up the rucksack, as she approached the bathroom, she noticed there was only one other door. She pulled down the handle and pushed the door open to peek inside.

“Bucky…” She called.

He appeared around the corner, eyes alert, “Yeah?”

“Look.” Y/N gestured into the room.

He peered in and turned back to her with a frown, “It’s a bed?”

She rolled her eyes and pointed to the opposite door, “And that’s the bathroom.”

“So?” Confusion etched on his face and suddenly it clicked, his body rumbling with laughter, “Oh, there’s only one bed!”

Y/N glared back at him with arms folded across her chest.

“We’ll work it out, Doll.” Bucky turned away and headed back to the kitchen

Y/N turned to look at the bed once more before she reached in and shut the door. Hoping that having a shower and some food would help her forget about potentially sharing a bed with Bucky.

Continue Here...

Tags - if you’re bold & striked out it means I couldn’t tag you, I might have got the wrong spelling or something so please let me know.

Everything Tags: @reann-loves-sebstan / @aroyaldarknessblr

Series Tags: @supraveng / @iheartsebastianstan / @jessyballet / @likeit-or-leaveit / @insposcollective / @ladifrickinda / @wintersoldierissucharide / @michelehansel / @danietoww04 / @booboobella01 / @thefandomimagines / @justreadingfics / @socalgem1124 / @a--1--1--3 / @notyourtypicalrose / @winterboobear11 / @justlovelifeblog / @polireader / @hailmary-yramliah / @rainbowkisses31 / @gooddaykate / @moonybarnes / @samthemarvelfan / @unlikelygalaxygiver / @youaremyfiveever / @hennessy0274-blog / @hola-mishamigos-its-marvel-time / @babydollofbarnes / @bonkywobble / @weird-mumbling / @mela-nichen / @beardburnsupersoldiers / @chubby-dumplin / @chewymoustachio / @supernaturalwintersoldier / @marveloust-dog / @runaway-escape / @berenilion / @peaceinourtime82

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes Fic #Bucky Barnes Angst #Bucky Barnes Fic Series #Bucky Barnes Fanfic #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes Fanfiction #Bucky Barnes Series

480 notes · View notes

sammystep · 3 years ago

Text

No One Lives Forever- CH13

(AO3 link)

Stardust Crusader Wolf Pack AU

[From the beginning- CH1]

New York streets are busy at any time of day and more so this early in the morning, people rushing their way down the street to get to work. Avdol and Joseph took a more sedated pace, letting the stream of humans flow around them like the torrents of a river. The walk to Avdol’s family’s shop was a fair distance from the new apartment but the act of patrolling around the new territory had a calming effect on their instincts. And since there was no real rush, why not enjoy the feeling for a bit?

Avdol’s tests and research the night before had revealed there were no active spells placed upon the pack, but faint magic residue was definitely attached to Joseph and Jotaro. It explained the frequent encounters and led Avdol to believe this was indeed being orchestrated by someone with a grudge against the Joestar line. The spell work was too faded to trace back to the caster, but with some specialized tools from the occult shop they could ward themselves from future spells.

“I still wish we had you examine that hunter from upstate. Maybe you could have traced the magic sooner.” Joseph grumbles as he puts his hands in his jacket pockets and sulks as they walk.

“I’m afraid it wouldn’t have done much good. I’d still be lacking the tools I need. After all, we weren’t expecting to encounter anyone, much less magic users.” Avdol does his best to reassure the older alpha, reverting back to their rolls of alpha and beta from before Jotaro was named leader of the pack. Joseph grumbles a bit more but lets the issue go, relaxing slightly as they continue their walk.

Avdol’s pace quickens slightly as the shop comes into view as they round the last corner. The occult shop occupied a narrow business space at street level, only a single door and large window with the words ‘OCCULT SUPPLIES * TAROT READINGS * WALK-INS WELCOME’ in gold font painted on the glass. Arrays of crystals, decorative knives and card decks lay just behind the glass on display to entice visitors to enter.

A bell attached to the door jingles pleasantly as they enter. From the back of the shop an older female voice calls, “Make yourself comfortable Muhammad, we’ll be out in just a moment!”

Joseph blinks in astonishment before catching Avdol’s smirk as they seat themselves at the reading table. He nods as he laughs a bit, “Right, fortune teller. She always catches me off guard with that. I’m not used to being on the other end of that trick.”

“You know by now it’s no trick Joseph.” An older black woman exits the back room of the store with the help of her cane. Her hair is styled into braids forming a bun on the top of her head, once black hair now mostly grey and silver. He half moon glasses are decorated with a beaded chain that clinks together with her jewelry as she moves.

Joseph just laughs “Well it is a trick when I do it Mrs. Avdol. I assume you know why we’re here then?” She nods and takes her seat at the table.

“My sight has shown me many things in the last few weeks. Your pack has encountered many bizarre things these past few days, correct?” Her kind brown eyes are serious as she looks at Joseph, waiting for his response.

He confirms with a nod and attempts to lighten the mood with a grin as he turns to Avdol, “How did you ever surprise her with birthday gifts?”

“Just because I’m not surprised does not mean I’m not happy, especially to see my only son.” Mrs. Avdol teasingly pinches her son’s cheek as he laughs with her.

“Mother, please!” Avdol brushes off her pinching fingers, “You act as thought I don’t visit!” he gives her hand a squeeze as she takes it back to rest both on the table.

The grandfather clock in the shop chimes 9 o’clock as Avdol’s father enters with a tray of coffee. “Right on time as always dear. Have you started the reading yet?” Mr. Avdol asks as he hands out the beverages.

“How could I concentrate on that if I know there was coffee on the way?” She grins and cackles as her husband takes his seat as well. “Thank you honey. Now…” Mrs. Avdol pulls a box from a nearby drawer and opens it revealing a deck of cards. “Before we get to the reason for your visit, first things first, the reading of your cards.” She slides the deck across the table face down to Joseph and Avdol. “Place your hands on top and we’ll see what fate has in store for you.” They both do as instructed and Joseph swears he gets a tingle in his fingers every time he does this.

“Good. As always, we start with the past, so we understand the context of the present and future.” Mrs. Avdol shuffles the deck a bit before spreading them in an arch on the table and indicating to her son. “Three cards please, Muhammad.”

One by one Avdol turns cards picked at random from the spread, first the tower, followed by the moon and strength. “Ah, so your journey has already been interrupted by calamity. Three powerful encounters behind you, but many more to come.” She picks up the rest of the undisturbed cards and re-shuffles them before spreading them out again. “I’ll draw your present.” The next three cards are even more ominous, the devil followed by justice and the world. “These represent the current danger, though I feel as though these two are more passive at the moment. A long-term danger to your pack.” She says as she points to justice and the world.

“You’re telling me we’re going to have to fight the devil?” Joseph groans and rubs his face, “Seriously? What crappy luck we’re having lately.”

Mrs. Avdol chuckles and corrects him “You know it’s rarely that straight forward. The devil is a subjugator, you will probably be facing a servant sent to fight you.”

She picks up the deck once more but pauses as she’s about to shuffle. A look of deep concentration passes over her features before she hands the deck to Joseph. “I feel you should shuffle this time, Joseph. And pick as many cards as you feel you need.” Mr. Avdol’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead in surprise but he remains silent as they continue the reading.

“Well, this is new.” Joseph is also surprised and quickly takes the cards and starts to shuffle. Instead of spreading them on the table he holds them as he draws a few cards from the middle. As they leave the deck, two others slip with them and fall to the floor face down. He tries to laugh off his clumsiness and quickly pick them up but Avdol stops him, his face serious as he watches his mother pick up the cards and turn them face up on the table. The Avdol family share a look between them before they turn back to Joseph.

“Even accidents hold meaning when reading the cards. These two,” Mrs. Avdol taps the fallen cards now revealed to be the hierophant and the hermit. “Together they represent knowledge and reflection, but that they fell… there will be a price to pay for the knowledge gained.”

Joseph’s brows furrow as he looks on at the ill-fated cards. Mrs. Avdol reaches out to gently take back the deck and his chosen cards, startling Joseph out of his thoughts. His cards remain face down as he asks, “I’m assuming when a psychic tells you there ‘will be a price to pay’, you aren’t talking about cash. What’s going to happen? This is my pack- my family we’re talking about. I’d gladly pay any ‘price’ to keep them safe.”

Mrs. Avdol pats his clenched fist on the table as Muhammad claps a hand to Joseph’s shoulder. “You know I would tell you if I could see, Joseph. All I can tell you is you will have to make this choice; the rest is foggy. Events are fluctuating around you and your pack.” She turns back to the cards he picked out and flips them face up: the star, the magician, the chariot and the fool. “These however look like good omens. Your pack learning and growing in strength and number. The way forward is a hard path, but the bonds of your pack are strong. If you rely and trust each other and your allies, I predict you will prevail over the enemies I cannot see.” With the reading over she scoops the cards back up from the table and shuffles the deck before putting it back in its box.

Joseph remains tense and contemplative as Avdol turns to his mother again, “Thank you, as always, for the insight. But we need to ask for an additional favor. I fear our enemy, or enemies, have a magic user with them. Would you be able to…”?

“Make you some protection charms?” Mrs. Avdol motions to her husband and he reaches for a tan drawstring pouch that had been sitting on the shelf full of miscellaneous items behind him. The contents of the sack clink gently as it’s placed in front of Avdol. “As I said, my visions have been unusually active for the past few weeks. I didn’t know when you would need them so I prepared them beforehand. Wear these charms at all times and you will be protected from nosey witches and the evil eye they cast on you.”

Avdol looks through the pouch of charms for a moment before taking out and opal earing and holding it to the light to inspect it. “Ah, this spell work should do nicely. Thank you.” He clips the earing to his ear before rifling through the bag and handing Joseph a metal bracelet, silver vines and thorns twisting around the band in intricate knots.

Mr. Avdol rises from his seat and makes his way to the back room with the empty coffee cups as his son secures the pouch in his travel satchel. Mrs. Avdol grabs his attention again, “Be warned, these will not be able to block more powerful spells entirely. Use caution and put up your wards like I taught you.”

“Of course. I’ve already started placing wards on our new lodgings. Now, about the shop… I feel it may be best if you and father left town while we get the situation under control.” Avdol places his hand on his mother’s arm as he implores her to close up shop.

Mrs. Avdol just chuckles as Mr. Avdol returns to the front room carrying luggage with him. Mr. Avdol chuckles along with his wife, “Don’t you know by now Muhammad? Your mother was just waiting to say goodbye to her son.”

Author’s Note:

I am alive! Sorry everyone, life got real crazy for me for a while. Had some family health scares (everyone is fine now), work schedule changes, moved, gained a roommate... still adjusting to the new changes but I've found time to write again! artwork is still on pause till I can set up my workspace properly.

Anyway just wanted to say sorry for the long break, but I'm gonna finish this thing no matter what- 13/52 complete so far !

#werewolf #family pack #jojo fanfic #jojo avdol #jojo joseph #magic #occult

19 notes · View notes

du0tine · 4 years ago

Text

𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝒀𝑶𝑼: 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑭𝑼𝑳𝑳 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀.

𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟓.𝟕𝐊 |𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 + 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒

𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑺𝑰𝑫𝑬𝑫 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬. 𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑺𝑻, 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲 𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑴𝑬𝑺. 𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑰𝑷𝑼𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵, 𝑴𝑼𝑹𝑫𝑬𝑹, 𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑮𝑶𝑹𝑬. 𝑳𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 𝑺𝑼𝑮𝑮𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑽𝑬 𝑺𝑪𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑾𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬 𝑯𝑬 𝑳𝑰𝑲𝑬 𝑻𝑶𝑼𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑺 𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑩𝑶𝑶𝑩𝑺, 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑪𝑨𝑵 𝑺𝑲𝑰𝑷 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑻. 𝑩𝑨𝑫 𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑼𝑨𝑮𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑰 𝑫𝑶𝑵’𝑻 𝑲𝑵𝑶𝑾 𝑾𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑬𝑳𝑺𝑬.

𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑾𝑬𝑹 𝑫𝑰𝑺𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑰𝑺 𝑨𝑫𝑽𝑰𝑺𝑬𝑫

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

@treblesomeharmonies @pastelsicheng @dearyongs @y2hyck @stayinzencity

The wind was harsh, blowing roughly as it rocked the large gondola back and forth. The passengers within were filled with unease. The looming feeling of fear lingering within them all as if the cable were to snap at any moment. The ten of them plummeting to their deaths, falling into the thick snow. Buried beneath the ground their bodies turning into a state of permafrost, freezing with looks of terror etched permanently on their faces.

The air was tense between the group of young individuals, no words were exchanged as they all gawked at the complete 360-degree view of mountains and large tall trees. All except for one, the very man himself who’d even invited them here in the first place. Jungwoo was leading his group of friends up towards the mountain where they’d be spending Christmas at his family cabin situated perfectly at one of the summits. One would think that perhaps he was leading them here for a nice gathering where the Christmas spirit could fill the air and bonds could be mended, the group of friends becoming closer than ever. But if you knew Jungwoo, truly knew him that is. You’d know that he had planned something much more sinister for his selfish desires and for him to fulfil such a thing he needed them alive.

Everyone dying through such a coincidental issue such as the gondola snapping and plunging into the forest below would’ve been horrible in his mind. Not because they’d die but because they’d die at the hands of fate, not his. A death like this wouldn’t suffice and surely wouldn’t be able to feed his hunger for blood. He wanted their demise to be beautiful, an image he’d been painting within the dark confinements of his twisted mind for so long. A perfect picture ready to be ripped from the canvas and painted into reality. The maestro ready to twist and pull at the strings and create something extraordinary with his own hands. It was going to be written into history, it was going to be monumental.

Clearing his throat, his lips stretch into a bright smile as he grins at them brightly.

"It’s going to be alright, sure it’s a bit rocky but the gondola system gets inspected bi-yearly! Especially in the winter season,” He announces to his group of friends. His aura practically shined with hope, he radiated positivity and filled them with ease. His words made them feel reassured even making the younger Haechan decide to fuck around and jump up and down rocking the gondola even more causing everyone to erupt with playful screams.

Meanwhile, you find yourself gripping tightly onto the railing as you look dead straight ahead at Jungwoo, your eyes filled with fear. You hated being up this high and even tried to convince Jungwoo to let you come up the mountain through the trail that switchbacked and snaked its way up through the forest but he had claimed it would’ve been much faster to just come up with them. Judging by the blazing winds that blew roughly outside, he was right it would’ve taken you ages to come upwards.

You watch him as he pushes past your group of friends making his way next to you, his hand finding yours as he quietly takes it placing it into his pocket. His sudden actions making you feel rather flustered as you lose focus of the fear that once loomed greatly within your mind. It was now replaced with the thought of Jungwoo. Feeling rather embarrassed you look down at your shoes, the snow melting off of them making the suede leather rather wet. It was exactly how he made you feel.

You weren’t dating but the light flirtatious moves never went by unnoticed. Mostly exchanged through by him, his advances were always quiet yet bold. He made your insides churn, your stomach turning to mush as your feelings erupted within your chest. Your mind went elsewhere whenever you were this close with Jungwoo and it soon became something you wished to always have. You wanted Jungwoo but did he want you? It seemed apparent that he did but why hadn’t he just asked you out already? There was no way you were going to confess first. Turning your head upwards slightly you turn to face him, observing his perfect side profile. He was gorgeous and yet here he was standing next to you, holding your hand. Silently trying his best to make you feel reassured. Could it be too good to be true?

Your hands began to feel clammy, your cheeks becoming hot as you attempt to pull your hand away. Only to have him lean down, his lips near your ear as the light breathes from his mouth caused goosebumps to erupt across your neck.

"It’ll be okay, you’re safe here with me,” He whispers as you whip your head towards him. Your eyes are wide in awe as his face is few mere inches away from yours. You’re falling into a daze, the remainder of the fear that lingered within you completely washed away. After all, there is no room for terror when you’ve got your crush so close to you, if you leaned any closer you could just kiss him then and there and that was nerve-racking enough.

The sweet moment between the two of you is suddenly cut short when you’re reminded that it’s not just the two of you inside the gondola. As a groan erupts from Haechan and Mark, the young boys publicly cringing at the two of you. Your body jerks away from Jungwoo, your hand leaving his as you cover the majority of your face with your scarf eager to hide the red streak of blush that covered your face. Staring outside the window you attempt to look anywhere but at him and yet there his is. His perfect reflection in the glass, twinkling as tiny snowflakes fly onto the surface. He’s staring at you and you can’t muster the courage to turn around and face him. Perhaps it’s for the best.

Since to Jungwoo, it meant nothing but simply playing games with you and he couldn’t help but feel giddy at the thought of everyone heading up the mountain with simply no point of return. There’d be 10 friends and one sole survivor, himself.

The torturous gondola was soon done and over, with the machine coming to a halt at the top of the mountain. The cold wind flowing into the confined space shaking them of the fear they once had and replacing them with the shivers. Eager to reach some warmth they all pile out, light pieces of luggage in their hands. Stepping outwards made that entire ride feel worth it, the reward at the top showcased natures utmost gorgeous beauty. Everyone was astonished by the panoramic view that wrapped around them, the towering mountains in the distance stood tall with the added plus of the small town of Banff beneath them made them feel like they were on top of the world and yet in the centre of it all.

To the right stood the Kim’s family cabin, a rather modern-looking building that to be honest did not resemble a cabin and yet was dubbed to be one.

“Welcome to Sulphur Mountain,” Announces Jungwoo, his soft voice practically engulfed by the blowing gusts of wind as he tries to catch everyone's attention.

“You’re fucking kidding me, how rich are you?!” Screams Haechan as Jungwoo laughs in response, shrugging his shoulders, “We’re just comfy.” To you the whole scene looked like one from a silent movie, there was a scene and yet no sound. It was just the natural elements that filtered in.

Jungwoo is quick to signal everyone over towards his home. The group of friends were soon led into the cabin where they were immediately met with the Kim’s family butler. An old man beyond his years, yet capable of moving quickly and nimbly. His features were almost mouselike, small framed with tiny hands. Hell, his voice barely squeaked loud enough as he welcomed you all before scurrying into what you heard from him was the kitchen.

As everyone piled into the living room you couldn’t help but peek out the window. There seemed to have been some sort of boardwalk bridge that led up to another section farther away from the cabin. As it levelled upwards you spotted another building situated at its summit. A small cobblestone building with an antenna attached at the top was what you could make out past all the snow that began to pour rather roughly.

“Its the comms station,” Answered Jungwoo, his voice is soft and tender as he places his head atop your shoulder. His long arms wrapping around you tenderly, engulfing you in a back hug.

“Why so far away? Wouldn’t it be better if it was stationed inside the house?” You ask as you place your hands atop his.

“Doesn’t matter. We won’t be needing it. I mean what’s the worst that could happen? Getting snowed in?” He responds as he laughs it off lightly pulling you away from the window and seating you onto the leather couch, “Just relax. You’re almost always on edge.”

Just like that he’s gone, the scent of his cologne filling your sense as you shrug into your white, Proenza Schouler wool dress. The room was lively, with the sound of Christmas music filling the room as Taeil and Doyoung harmonized with almost every song that played. You couldn’t help but feel out of place, normally you would’ve joined in on the fun but you couldn’t help but feel stationed on the couch. Your gaze drifting towards the window as you looked at the comms tower that grew foggier and foggier, soon falling out of sight.

Deep inside your mind you mentally made note of the station's placement. You couldn’t help but feel like maybe you’d have to make use of it because there was just this underlying feeling that there was the possibility of something occurring. You didn’t know what exactly but there was just something off about this whole situation. Turning your gaze back towards everyone you realize Jungwoo is still missing and he wasn’t one to miss out on the fun. He was known to be the mood maker of the group, always joining on the fun or busting a rather silly move causing everyone to cry of laughter.

Perhaps, you’d look for him. I mean he wouldn’t mind you exploring the house a bit right? Maybe you’d be able to finally muster up the courage to confess to him. The image of the two of you sitting in his room alone, hot breaths against each other as you lean in to share a passionate kiss with him made you feel antsy. Shaking yourself from the fantasy that you played foolishly inside your mind you sneak out from the loud living room tiptoeing through the long corridors.

You couldn’t help but cringe whenever your bare feet creaked underneath the wooden floorboards as it completely gave away your position every time and you were trying to get by quietly. As your mind filtered through possible excuses you could use should you have gotten caught. Quickly getting distracted as you continued to wander about staring at pictures of the Kim family that hung on the walls. Not even bothering to think about where the rest of the family members were.

Suddenly the noise of one of the doors swinging open snaps you back into reality, the sound of cups and plates echo through the corridor as you quickly dash into one of the many identical doors just barely managing to sneak away from the butler as he wobbles down the hallways. The sound of china dishes disappearing just as quickly as it came. Warily peaking your head from the doorway you look both ways making sure the coast is clear and surely it is, the hallways are quiet and empty once more.

Stepping back onto the creaky floorboards you continue to tiptoe about until you spot a nearby staircase that was merely a couple of feet away.

'Maybe he’s making the rooms for everyone’ You think to yourself as you grip the stairwell handle and look upwards before quickly spiralling on upwards. Once you’d arrived on the second floor this sudden feeling of unease began to ripple through your spine, creeping downwards slowly and into the pits of your stomach.

This floor was dimly lit and the faint sound of laughter disappeared the further you walked away from the staircase and instead was replaced with complete silence.

‘Where the hell was Jungwoo?’ You kept thinking to yourself. At this point, you were more than willing to ditch the whole plan of finding him and heading back to where everyone else was.

This corridor like the last ended with yet again another staircase and you seriously debated going any further. As you reached the bottom railing of the stairwell you glanced upwards at the spiral of steps. It was dark, the lights were completely out. Pulling out your phone you turn on the flashlight and point it upwards. Again, there was nothing but a series of stairs. Then you heard it, the sound of something slowly being dragged or rather dragging itself. The sound of nails being sharply dragged against the floorboards as a voice croaked from above, it wasn’t Jungwoo’s.

You were frozen in place, you didn’t know if you were supposed to run or go upstairs. Was the person hurt? Did they need help? You simply just couldn’t decide as you stood there phone in hand as your legs trembled with fear.

Thump, thump, thump.

The body had begun descending the stairs slowly until the sounds became closer and much louder. Having lost control the body had slid down the rest of the way falling to the bottom merely inches away from your feet. Contorted awkwardly you nearly screamed in fear, your mouth going agape as you looked in horror at what lay in front of you.

It was a young woman, perhaps a couple of years older than you. Her features were battered, clothes covered in blood. Her kneecaps were both busted as she lay there mangled, her legs twisted about. She was barely alive and yet she took whatever she had left within her to let out a string of groans.

“W-what happened to you?” You stuttered quietly, your eyebrows scrunching in fear. Leaning in forwards you examine the poor girl up closer as she continued to moan in pain, slowly the words began to piece together.

“Jung…woo, run,” Fluttered past her busted lips, her front teeth were broken as blood seeped past the gaps and out of her mouth. She fell into a coughing fit once you’d realized what she had said. Quickly sitting her up against the railing you brush the hairs out of her face tucking them behind her ears only to realize who was sitting in front of you.

Jungwoo’s sister.

Gasping out loud you fall backwards, your back slamming harshly against the stairs. She too had recognized you since you’d met her before all of this at Jungwoo’s city home. There she was yet again in front of you completely unrecognizable, her face was beaten in and bleeding. Cuts, bruises and bumps protruding from her once beautiful face. She was something else, the victim of something cruel and had become like this by the hands of what seemed like her very own brother.

Sitting her up against the wall seemed to have helped her from choking on her blood. Things were silent except for the heavy wheezing that omitted from her, she must’ve had a collapsed lung as she struggled to breath. She didn’t look like she had much longer. Time was running out, her internal clock coming to its final countdown.

“J-jungwoo, dan..ger— dangerous,” Was the last thing she had managed to croak out before her eyes went lifeless, her body falling still before slumping down harshly once more. She fell to her side, face planted into the ground never to wake up again.

You struggled to move, your mind had gone into full panic mode. Millions of things running through your head, where were his parents? Had he done the same thing to them? Was this even Jungwoo? Looking upwards at the stairwell you decided that you had enough of figuring things out. You couldn’t play detective any longer because you knew that if you kept prying the price you’d have to pay with was not a poor excuse but your life.

Standing up from the stairs you pulled yourself together, deciding that if you needed to get out you’d have to play along with whatever the fuck this was. Straightening the ends of your dress you don’t look behind leaving whatever you’d just seen behind and heading downstairs. Not realizing that your blood-stained hands had just tainted your white dress. The blood collecting within the fibres of the wool.

Once you found yourself on the main floor making your way back to the group of friends who still roared from the living room, you felt yourself not even being able to see straight. It was almost as if you were traversing through a dark tunnel with the only lit exit being the one that lay ahead of you. Where safety was with all your friends and yet just like that you were pulled away.

Dragged into a room by gentle arms and that smell. The distinct scent of cologne, his cologne. Once it made you feel weak in the knees and now you wanted to gag. It didn’t take much to know it was him for he was always the one grasping your body with ease, touching you so gently. You grew to know his touch yet you never learned to understand you’d been touched by a murderer until now.

“Found you,” He playfully whispers into your ear, his breath is hot as his hands begin to wander. Gripping your waist only to move slightly upwards resting just below your breasts. Meanwhile, his lips are attached to your neck as he places soft, tender kisses trailing up towards your jawline.

Thank god the lights were off otherwise he’d see how pale your complexion was from the amount of fear he displaced in you. Underneath his touch you were trembling, your bottom lip quivering as you bite down trying to calm yourself down. You needed to play along but you couldn’t find it in you to do so.

“Why’re you so quiet?” He asks, his voice is daunting as he teases you. His hands moving to cup your breasts tightly, fondling them gently as if he’s expecting you to melt under his touch and given the possibility that this was a normal night where you hadn’t just seen his dead sister you would’ve been a mewling mess under his touch but here you were in this twisted, cruel reality. Not quite the picturesque fantasy you had in mind.

Just as he spins you around to face him, you pull away from his grasps making a bolt for the door. Pushing past the wooden door as it slams roughly against the wall but to him, he sees it merely a game of cat and mouse, it excites him. He’s on your tail as you burst through the door running for the brightly lit living room, your feet thumping loudly against the floor. Stumbling inside you find yourself screaming out for everyone and yet much to your chagrin there definitely was everyone but was everyone alive?

There they sat next to each other on the couch, their headless bodies slightly slumped as a loud soundtrack made the sound of laughter echo through the room. Your heart had completely dropped to the floor, your mouth opening in fear as you properly screamed for the first time that entire evening. Your vocal cords piercing through the room as you stared at your group of friends sitting there silently, their heads in their laps.

The music then came to an abrupt stop as you whipped around only to come face to face with the perpetrator himself. He seemed completely calm, not a single string of fear on his visage as he merely smiled at you.

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks as he raises a pair of sharp scissors snipping them playfully in the air.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You spit out, the look on your face is mixed with terror and pure disgust. “I mean your sister and now, now our friends?!”

“My sister?” He asks raising an eyebrow in curiosity. His dark brown eyes observe your body from head to toe and once he realizes your blood-splattered clothes he merely scoffs, “Look at you, all dirty. You’ve been a bad girl huh? Sticking your nose in places you don’t belong.”

Looking downwards you lift your shaky hands, facing your bloodied palms upwards and see the handprints you’d created imprinted onto your dress. You were a living piece of criminal evidence, a walking crime scene. There was no telling him you hadn’t seen her, the evidence was splattered right in front of him.

Throwing his head back he lets out a sinister laugh ignoring your silence before bringing his gaze back onto you, his lips pouting slightly as he taunts you, “Christmas came early, now won’t you come to sit on Santa’s lap? Or have you been a bad girl?”

Slowly he inches towards you taking his time with each step as if he’s had all the time in the world. “Come on, tell Santa what you want?” He asks as he continues to come closer to you. Your eyes frantically begin to look around the room for an exit but as you look past the windows all you can see is the raging blizzard.

Then it hits you, Jungwoo had planned this all before arriving. He had made sure to bring you all here when the weather was bad so there was no way you could escape. His joke of getting snowed in no longer being funny. You truly felt like you were trapped and you were.

“I’m getting impatient,” He says cutting your thoughts short as he averts your attention back onto him. He’s now standing merely an arm’s length away from you, sharp scissors in hand as he taps his foot against the floor over and over again.

"Times running out, tell Santa what you want for Christmas,” He asks again.

“My life,” You reply, your eyes never leaving the sharp scissors grasped tightly in his hands. It’s silent as he pauses before bursting into laughter, he’s laughing so hard you’ve got him clenching his gut. “Your life?!” He exclaims as he stands up straight wiping the light tears from his cheeks.

“You know I can’t just give you that, what do you think I am? God?!”

Raising your arms in annoyance you point a finger straight at his face, “Haven’t you had enough twisted, cruel fun for tonight? What more can you do with killing one more person?”

For a moment he stands there pondering as he mockingly lifts a finger and places it on his chin. Rolling his eyes he pulls out his watch from his pocket and dangles it in front of you.

“Since you’re cute and fuck, you turn me the hell on. I’ll give you 10 minutes, you can run but you can’t hide and of course, you won’t be running for long,” He explains offering you some sort of ultimatum before stepping aside and letting you have access to the door out of the living room.

It was better than nothing and you very well knew where you were heading. Taking one last glance at Jungwoo who merely smiled brightly at you as he taps onto the surface of the watch, “Your time starts now.” With that, you’re out of the living room and towards the front door, slipping on your shoes and jacket you tug and twist at the doorknob. It didn’t even budge one bit. Of course, he’d have the door locked.

You were wasting precious time fidgeting with the door so you quickly headed back up towards the corridors and up the first set of stairs. The sound of blaring music radiating from the living room along with Jungwoo’s voice, he was singing along. Zig zagging through the many rooms on the second floor you run to all the windows, tugging and pulling at them but having no luck in doing so. Quickly you stumble out running towards the second flight of stairs trying your best to ignore the dead body that lay there only to stupidly slip on the pool of blood. Your body falling backwards and colliding harshly with the floor.

The sound of footsteps began to echo through your ears, thumping rapidly inside your mind as you tried to get up, only to be pulled to the side by a small frail hand. It was the butler. Instinctively you use your free arm to elbow him square in the face. The man falls to the floor clutching his nose as blood begins to pour from his nostrils, you’re expecting him to hurt you or bring you to Jungwoo but instead, he stands back up and faces you once more this time not daring to touch you.

“You need to get out of here, head to the third floor and make a run for the window at the end of the corridor. It won’t open so you’ll need to burst through,” He explains as you look at him in confusion. How on earth was he on your side?

“Climb down or hell, drop down if you can. You won’t get hurt from the jump, it’s not that high. Head straight down the mountain. Don’t even think about going to the comm’s centre, it’s all fake. There's nothing there it’s merely a trap,” He squeaks out, quickly explaining some sort of escape plan to you as he begins to push you up towards the stairs.

“How can I trust you?!” You question as he continues to shove you upstairs.

“You’ll just have to take a chance and right now you only have one,” He replies giving you one last shove before turning his focus away from you.

“Master Jungwoo?” Is the last thing you hear from the butler before you bolt up towards the stairs. Once at the top you’re met yet again with complete and utter darkness, what seemed like the window ahead was also quite dim as it was covered with snow that caked its surface.

You didn’t wait for a cue, you didn’t even hesitate as you made ran towards the window ramming your body against it. The window had only cracked moderately and your body felt immense pain as a result but you couldn’t wait any longer. The pain you had to suffer was surely temporary if it meant saving your life. Taking a couple of steps back you ram yourself into the window once more this time managing to break a few big shards, the cold winter air seeping through the broken glass into the hallway. Small shards cutting into your arms and sticking into your face.

Just before you can ram yourself into the window once more you hear his voice.

“You better watch out, you better not cry. You better not pout I’m telling you why,” He sings as his footsteps slowly saunter towards you. You don’t even bother looking back because if you did you knew you’d become distraught once more. Not because he was there but you’d be shocked to see the Butler’s head gripped tightly in his hands. There was no turning back or you’d face the same fate. Jungwoo was simply merciless.

"Santa Clause is coming to town,” He bellows out, his voice echoing through the hallways crescendoing loudly as you’re taking two steps back and pushing your body through the window breaking through the glass once and for all. You’re free-falling through the air for a couple of seconds before landing roughly on your back. His head popping through the broken window as he waves at you, “Elsa?! Do you wanna build a snowman?!”

Your body aches as you stare up at this mentally deranged man who’s usual cute habit of quoting songs quickly became much more disturbing. There’s no time to lay there in pain as you force yourself to quickly get back up. Looking back towards the broken window you no longer see him there. Automatically, you know he’s not given up and that he’s about to come outside to drag you back in so you make a run for the trailhead. If only you could find it in such horrible weather conditions.

Stumbling around you bite your lip in agony as random pieces of glass shards cause your muscles to twitch in discomfort. The rough winds are blowing at your face, whipping at your skin. The snow blurring your vision as you blindly run around wasting your stamina. It didn’t help that with every step you took your legs fell deeper and deeper into the freshly powdered snow creating a drag on every single one of your movements slowing you down immensely.

Suddenly you heard something whizz just past your arm, skinning it in the process. Howling in pain you clutch your arm tightly attempting to stop the blood. Only to be hit once more this time in the shoulder, your body jolting forwards as you fall onto the snow. You’d been shot, twice, and the bullets didn’t seem to stop as you lay there hearing the sounds of bullets zooming over you. He’d found your location, you were screwed.

Crouching back up you start to run in zig zags, blood dripping from your body as it leaves a perfectly nice trail atop the snow. Your breath is heavy as you stagger in the snow eager for a way out. Then you’re hit once more, the bullet lodging through your skin from behind as it pierces through your left leg hitting your achilles heel. Falling to the floor you bite your lip in attempts to stay quiet as you silently scream to yourself.

Then he appears, standing above you silver pistol in hand. Dressed in his black winter coat as he sneers at you from above. Leaning down he hovers above you, pinning you down with his body as he coos gently.

“My poor baby, you’re so hurt,” He taunts pouting his lips as he tries to play it off cutely.

Momentarily you’re silent as you look up towards him. You weren’t scared anymore, you were just sick and tired of this. If this was how you were going to die you’d accepted your fate. Your chest heaves with discomfort as you struggle to maintain your breath, you were cold and weak. There was no more fight left in you.

“You know, I thought you’d make this harder. I mean you jumped out of a fucking window but I find you here?” He says as brings his dainty fingers towards your cheek tugging at one of the glass shards and ripping it out swiftly earning a muffled scream from you. The tear were streaming down your cheeks, the saltiness seeping into the lacerations in your skin. The destroyed porcelain made you look like an abused rag doll.

Then it hits you, where exactly were you that made you so accessible. Scrunching your eyebrows in confusion your eyes begin to dart all around the place. Where were you?

“Allow me to explain, your dumb ass that had been previously ogling over at the comms centre came directly here after escaping. I mean what did you expect? To be able to call in the cops? In this weather?!” He scoffs.

Rolling his eyes you can tell he’s had enough of playing around. He came here to kill you and he wasn’t going to wait any longer. “Pity it has to end this way,” He says before bringing the pistol towards your temple, pulling the trigger you shut your eyes tightly expecting a loud bang followed by darkness.

Click.

Click. Click.

You open your eyes in confusion, how were you brains not blasted out already. Jungwoo seemed to have been just as surprised as he fumbled with the empty gun, he’d run out of bullets. Taking this as a sign of hope you bring your hands upwards towards his shoulders taking everything you had left inside of you to head butt him roughly. Earning a groan from him as his head falls back staggering slightly backwards into the snow. Dropping the gun and rubbing his forehead in pain.

“You bitch!” He exclaims.

Quickly you get back up the adrenaline kicking back in, giving you that extra dose of energy that you needed to survive as you ran away from him once more. Ignoring his protests in the background. Surely, he’d run after you and you weren’t going to let him kill you. Running blindly through the snow you keep going straight until you start to feel the ground moving beneath you. The snow sliding rapidly as you fall onto your face, your body getting swallowed by the snow. You had been caught in avalanche. Somehow you’d managed to run diagonally down the mountain side triggering the thick snow to plow underneath heading directly under towards the trees and the forest that lay below.

Your body caught in the middle of it all as you free fell almost 2,000 metres to the ground. The mixture of ice and snow shoving your body around as you struggled to breath. It was unstoppable and soon enough you’d blacked out from the lack of oxygen. Your body would remain encased within snow until summer would arrive. Only when the snow would melt would your body reappear.

No-one would question your whereabouts except him. Did you escape? Did you die some other way? The questions would run through his mind for months to come eating away at his desires. His plan had failed, the picture he wanted to create and bring to life had been a disaster and now he had to start planning to create once more, to kill once again.

He’d write this day in to be the worst Christmas of his life. Ironic huh?

#solange is in the mountains: queue!!#nct #nct 127 #kim jungwoo #jungwoo x reader #jungwoo angst #please let me know what you think!#thank you!

43 notes · View notes

carewyncromwell · 4 years ago

Photo

The Cinderella AU is back, and...ahhhh, my babiiiiies. *dissolves into a pile of happy goo*

The Winter Festival presented in Royaume is most strongly related to the celebrations for Saint Nicholas in French provinces such as Lorraine, which are held on December 6th and include lots of music and a parade led by Saint Nicholas (or Pere Noel, as he’s also called), the French alternative to Father Christmas and Santa Claus. Florence’s holiday likewise resembles Italy’s Feast Day, which is hosted on December 8th.

Back in the olden days, dancing wasn’t just done for fun -- it was considered a standard form of socializing. Prior to the 19th century, it was far more common for Europeans to dance in large groups that then switched partners frequently, as opposed to being locked onto a specific partner, and this applies to both formal gatherings and more informal ones. Strict pair dancing really came more in vogue in the early 1800′s with the German waltz, so during the Renaissance, one could expect to see a lot more swapping of partners at parties than one generally sees in the modern era. There were couple dances at that time, of course, such as the lavolta -- they just weren’t as popular as dances like the waltz became at formal gatherings later on. Country dancing, or dances performed at informal gatherings, was generally seen as more lighthearted and easy for people to join in without being expert at it, while court dances, which were generally saved for more formal events, were much more performative and choreographed.

Carewyn’s dress in this sketch was strongly based off of this absolutely gorgeous dress, which was inspired by real Renaissance artwork.

Previous part is here – whole tag is here -- Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee -- and I hope you enjoy! xoxo

x~x~x~x

With the arrival of winter, Carewyn found herself busier than ever. The King and Queen of Royaume had ordered that the palace be fully furnished with holiday cheer, so Carewyn and the rest of the staff soon had their hands full, putting gold-trimmed garlands around every banister and decking every hall with holly and ivy. Carewyn wondered how in the world the King and Queen could afford such finery when they still couldn’t seem to scrounge up enough funds to have the proper tools and supplies in stock for their staff, let alone to give them proper food rations -- but from what Bill and Charlie told her, this wasn’t too uncommon.

“It’s like this every year,” said Charlie, sounding very surly. “The royals and the court always pig out on the most sumptuous feasts, and then we have to pay for it after the fact. Just you wait until New Year’s -- the Queen always likes hosting a huge masked ball to ‘start the new year off right’ and the nobles end up leaving the worst messes behind...”

Bill sighed. “I don’t think it’s all selfishness on their part, really. I think it’s to try to lift the Prince’s spirits, more than anything. You know he isn’t allowed to leave the castle grounds...and I’m sure he no doubt hears all about the Winter Festival and all the other celebrations in town around this time of year, from the staff. The holiday season can’t be that much fun, when you’re forced to sit and watch from the sidelines...”

Andre did indeed seem to be in a forlorn mood. Whenever Carewyn caught sight of him walking through the palace gardens with her cousin Iris, he seemed to always be looking away, off into the distance, while Iris tried to engage him in conversation. Carewyn couldn’t help but feel sorry for him -- as much as his parents clearly were spending beyond their means, it seemed to be largely so that they could try to shield him from the War going on outside. It wasn’t a good decision, Carewyn thought, but a slightly understandable one...and more importantly, Andre himself had no hand in either the staff’s struggles or his own captivity.

One day Carewyn was polishing the floors in one of the guest suite, singing the song Orion had given her for the second time that day, when the partially ajar door was very quickly shoved open. Carewyn looked up just in time to see a ruffle of bed curtains, as if someone had leapt onto the guest bed and drawn the curtains so that they were hidden from view.

Carewyn opened her mouth, ready to ask who was there, only to be interrupted by a familiar voice echoing down the hallway outside.

“Your Highness?”

Iris?

Carewyn frowned deeply. She heard heels clapping down the hall, and sure enough, her brown-haired, slender cousin came into view through the open door.

Iris caught sight of Carewyn inside the guest suite, and her confused expression instantly turned ugly.

“Have you seen the Prince?” she demanded.

Carewyn raised her eyebrows innocently. “No.”

“Well, if you do, tell him that Lady Iris is looking for him,” said Iris waspishly. “And see that you don’t speak to him either.”

“I don’t quite know how I can tell his Highness that you’re looking for him, if I’m not allowed to speak to him,” said Carewyn rather coolly.

“You know full well what I mean,” Iris snarled under her breath.

Eying the almost completely polished floor, she rather pointedly strode right through the part Carewyn had just finished cleaning, dragging her heels to leave long, streaking footprints through it.

“Prince Henri might like using you as his little dress-up doll, but don’t think it means he actually likes you,” she whispered coldly. “Why would a prince ever be interested in a servant girl with no dowry or prospects?”

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed upon the streaks on the floor before flitting up onto Iris’s face with a very stony look. She was very tempted to remind Iris that she had no interest in kissing up to the richest man that would have her, and that a man and a woman didn’t have to be romantically interested in each other to engage in conversation...but, honestly, she didn’t see much point. She wouldn’t be able to soothe Iris’s jealousy no matter what she said, and Carewyn quite frankly liked the thought of Iris leaving far more than to try to make her feel better.

Satisfied that she’d gotten the last word, Iris picked up the skirts of her lavender brocade gown and strode quickly from the room and down the hall in search of Andre.

Carewyn remained on the floor for a moment, waiting for the sound of her cousin’s footsteps to fade away. Then she slowly rose to her feet, walked over to the door, and closed it, before she got back down on her hands and knees so she could start cleaning the part of the floor Iris had slid her feet through.

“Andre?” whispered Carewyn without looking up. “Is that you, hiding in there?”

There was a rustle. Then the bed curtains parted, to reveal Andre sitting on his knees on the bed.

“You knew it was me?” he murmured.

“I thought it might be,” said Carewyn, offering him a small gentle smile even though she didn’t fully look up from her work.

Andre looked almost guilty. “...Thank you for covering for me, Carewyn. I don’t mean to insult your cousin, I just...need some space.”

“It’s all right. It can be draining, not to have any time to yourself, even when you are around people you like. And really, I didn’t lie -- I hadn’t seen you, however much I thought I might know where you were,” she added with a wry smile.

Andre tried to smile, but it came out rather forced and faded very quickly. He glanced from Carewyn to the closed door and back.

“...Does she always talk to you like that? Iris?”

Carewyn paused in the work and looked up. Andre’s face was twisted in a very troubled frown.

The maidservant returned her focus to the floor so as not to look at him, scrubbing at a particularly dirty streak.

“Not always,” she said mildly.

Sometimes she says worse things.

Andre’s eyes narrowed slightly, becoming sadder still. “Carewyn...I had no idea. I mean, I understand your mother was estranged from your family and your father skipped town, but...Iris is your cousin. Even if she’s nobility and you’re not, the way you talked about your family, I thought...”

He trailed off. He felt incredibly foolish, for not having questioned whether Iris and Carewyn’s relationship was really that good. KC had even complained about her mother trying to matchmake her with Carewyn’s cousin, Arsen Dupont, hadn’t she? Did that mean that all of Carewyn’s family talked to her the way Iris did?

Carewyn, however, was very stoic in her response. “Please don’t judge Iris based on how she speaks to me, Andre.”

Grandfather would be furious if I were the reason Iris didn’t marry Andre. The only reason that Iris and Andre shouldn’t marry should be Iris herself, and her own stupidity.

“Good people don’t have to get along with everyone, not even their own family. The way Iris speaks to me is just as much my own doing as it is hers -- and truly, her words are just words. They don’t injure me. If you enjoy her company, then you mustn’t judge her too harshly for something like this.”

Judge her harshly for other reasons.

Andre didn’t look very comforted. He adjusted himself on the bed so that he was sitting on the edge with his feet on the floor.

“...To be honest...I don’t really enjoy it that much,” he muttered.

Carewyn looked up again.

“She’s amiable enough, I suppose,” said Andre uncomfortably, “but...well, I was curious to meet her because it sounded like she enjoyed fashion and might have some good ideas for me to try out. And she had a few -- I mean, I still don’t think ash gray suits you at all...but I ended up finding a rather nice shiny pewter fabric for your shoes, and -- well, you’ll see it when they’re done. I think you’ll like them. But even with that...it just feels like, a lot of the time, she’s only saying what she thinks I want to hear, rather than what she really thinks! Don’t get me wrong, I don’t dislike flattery -- but I already get that all the time at court. Especially around this time of year...”

He looked down at the floor, his shoulders dropping as he rested his arms in his lap.

“I have plenty of servants and subjects and...well, people who only want to be around me for my crown,” he said dejectedly. “I guess all I was really hoping for was...”

“A friend.”

Andre looked up at Carewyn in surprise. She’d put down her rag on the edge of her bucket, her eyes full to the brim with compassion.

Within seconds, the Prince’s face had burst into a delighted, relieved expression.

“Yes! Oh, I’m so glad you understand, Carewyn. Erika always says I shouldn’t complain so much...and I know she’s right -- I have a lot to be grateful for. It’s just...”

“You can have a lot to be grateful for and still be missing what you need,” said Carewyn very primly. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to do more or be more. It’s how you express that feeling that matters.”

Andre cocked his eyebrows curiously. “Express it?”

Unable to meet the Prince’s eye straight-on, Carewyn fixed her ponytail so that some of the hair coming out of it was restrained again.

“Well...to Lady Rath’s point, complaining about a problem, or wishing it would go away, never really solved anything. My mother used to say that ‘dreamers never make a dream come true’ -- if you want something to happen, then you need to act on it, not just sit around and wish that things might change.”

That’s why I can’t just sit back and wait for the War to end so Jacob can come home. If he’s out there on the battlefield, in pain and alone, I need to find out where and figure out some way to reach him.

Andre considered this for a long moment. At last his face split into a huge, blazing white smile.

“You’re right! You’re absolutely right, Carewyn...”

He leapt off the bed, bent down to get down on Carewyn’s level, and grabbed both of her shoulders.

“Will you go to the Winter Festival with me?”

Carewyn was taken aback. “What?”

“I’ve never been, not even once, even though I’ve always wanted to,” said Andre, his eyes bright with excitement. “Of course we’d probably have to be sneaky about it...but the courtiers will be plenty occupied all night here, with Mother’s ball. There are plenty of times I’ve been able to sneak out of the ballroom and no one’s ever found me, even when they were actively looking. I have the perfect purple brocade doublet I could wear...and I’m sure your new shoes will be stunning with the dark blue velvet gown I made for you...”

“Andre,” said Carewyn, a bit taken aback by his enthusiasm, “hold on. Brocade and velvet...those are hardly things to wear outside the palace, if you don’t want to be noticed.”

Andre blinked. “They’re not?”

“No,” Carewyn said very firmly, her eyes narrowing reproachfully as she slid out of his grip. “Only people of status and wealth wear those materials. People in town wear cottons, linens -- wool -- and they’re far simpler than even the uniform I’m wearing right now. You and I would stick out like sore thumbs, especially since all of the nobility will be at the Queen’s Ball. I doubt we’d last more than five minutes in town before we got caught.”

Andre deflated visibly.

“...I see,” he said, disappointed. “If only I’d thought of this sooner...I could probably have made us something else, if the Festival wasn’t the day after tomorrow...”

Carewyn bit the inside of her cheek. She didn’t love the thought of going against the King and Queen’s wishes, and of course spending time with Andre was uncomfortable considering she was supposed to stay out of Iris’s way, but...well, she agreed with Bill. It had to feel pretty rotten, to be stuck on the sidelines, watching everyone else have fun and longing to join in, during the holidays. Carewyn had never really gone to the Winter Festival as a kid since her mother didn’t like large crowds and she’d preferred spending quiet time at home with her and Jacob...but Andre clearly wanted to go to the Festival so badly...

“...I could...always go pick something up, in town,” Carewyn said slowly, her eyes lingering on Andre’s shoulder rather than his face. “I’m supposed to be meeting a friend at the castle gate around noon...I could always convince him to walk with me to look for some festival clothes for both of us. Then you could always tailor what I bring back, in case it doesn’t fit correctly...”

Andre looked like Carewyn had just presented him with a unicorn for a Christmas present.

“Oh, Carewyn...you’re absolutely brilliant, that’s what you are! Don’t worry, I’ll give you plenty of money -- buy whatever you think is best -- ”

And that was how Carewyn got roped into going to the Winter Festival. But really, she knew she couldn’t in good conscience let Andre sneak out on his own...and despite herself, her heart was much too gentle for her to even think of trying to tell him not to go, however much trouble she knew both of them would be in if they got caught.

All the more reason to make sure we don’t, she told herself.

When she met Orion at the gate that day, she told him she had some shopping to do before the Festival. Orion had quirked an eyebrow when she had him hold up several peasant-worthy outfits over himself so Carewyn could examine them, but Carewyn refused to tell him who she was shopping for, merely that he was around Orion’s height.

“Can I take this to mean you’ll be attending the Festival after all, my lady?” Orion asked, his eyes trailing over her face with some interest. “I believe you told Ginny Weasley that you’d be too busy.”

Carewyn avoided his eye as she took the outfit he was holding from him and placed both it and a forest green and white dress she’d found on the counter so she could pay.

“I am -- but I’ve opened some time in my schedule for it all the same, at least in the evening.”

Something flickered in the back of Orion’s eyes. Was it curiosity, or was it disappointment? “The gentleman you’re shopping for must be someone special, for you to reschedule your plans.”

Carewyn couldn’t fight back a proud huff. “He’s special only in the way that he needs help, and I’m the person who can give it.”

She took the clothes from the cashier and started heading out of the shop. Orion followed along behind, his black eyes running over her face even while she refused to look at him and narrowing ever-so-slightly.

“...I see.”

Andre was pleasantly surprised by what Carewyn had brought back for them. Although yes, they were made of far less expensive fabrics than he was used to and lacked decoration, he was very pleased with the colors. He’d mentioned having a purple doublet before, so he wasn’t surprised she picked that color of tunic for him, but he was very happy when she picked out some very handsome emerald green trousers trimmed with gold embroidery to go with them, as well as some tall black leather boots with gold buckles. Andre hadn’t really put purple and green together much before, but he really liked how the shades looked together. Carewyn’s dress, however, he did make one large alteration to besides just the fit -- adding a rather pretty trim to the front and back of bodice and the bottom of the skirt made of thick silvery linen ribbon. (He claimed that it was to help the dress better blend with her new pewter gray silk slippers, but Carewyn also just suspected he couldn’t help himself, seeing how plain the dress she’d gotten was.)

The night of the Festival, Andre went down to the Queen’s Winter Ball. After going through the motions for a half hour or so to throw off suspicion, Andre slipped away, and -- after quickly changing into his peasant clothes -- met Carewyn by the gate of the palace. When he got there, he found Bill, Charlie, and their little sister Ginny waiting just across the street, ever so “casually” looking away from the castle wall as Carewyn carefully opened the gate and she and Andre slipped out. Once the gate was closed, the three Weasleys swooped down on Carewyn and Andre, Charlie grabbing Andre’s arm and Ginny grabbing Carewyn’s, and the group flooded into town to meet up with the rest of the Weasley clan.

From the moment they arrived, Andre looked happier and more laid-back that Carewyn had ever seen him. Carewyn couldn’t help but feel like just walking around the Festival, surrounded by ordinary people who had no idea who he really was, made this the best day of the young Prince’s life...and she had to admit, as much as she could take or leave parties, his enthusiasm was infectious. When Ginny suggested they go dance, Andre was absolutely thrilled at the thought of learning how to do a country dance, and pressured Carewyn to show him how. Carewyn hardly thought herself the best choice for this, but found it difficult to say no, seeing how excited he was. Once Carewyn, Charlie, Andre, and Ginny jumped into the fray, though, she did find herself having fun. The steps were actually pretty easy to follow along to, especially compared to the sorts of court dances she’d always seen her older cousins practicing at the Cromwell estate, before any private balls they were invited to.

It didn’t take long, though, for someone to spot Andre. In the middle of one of their dances, a hand came from out of nowhere and snatched a hold of the back of the Prince’s purple tunic, pulling him back out of line.

“Hey!” yelped Andre. “What are you -- ?!”

He looked up, to see the rather tall and foreboding frame of his fencing instructor.

Andre gave a very weak smile. “Aha...hi, Erika.”

Erika’s expression was very stony. Carewyn, Charlie, and Ginny immediately hopped out of line and over to them. Standing right behind Erika and dressed in a sapphire blue cloak that obscured her elegantly trimmed linen dress was KC.

“Lady Rath!” said Charlie with his best attempt at a winning smile. “KC! What a nice...surprise! Heh...”

KC raised her eyebrows coolly. “Hello, Charlie...Carewyn.”

Bill had rushed over too, sensing trouble.

“It’s not their fault, KC,” said Andre quickly, “I can explain -- ”

“Oh, don’t worry,” said KC, her arms crossing as she looked at Andre. “We know full well it isn’t their fault.”

“I say it is,” said Erika rather bluntly, her eyes flashing dangerously at Carewyn and the Weasleys, “considering they encouraged it.”

“It isn’t their fault because they wouldn’t have felt able to say ‘no’ to the Crown Prince of Royaume, even if they’d wanted to,” KC pointed out logically.

Andre suddenly looked very guilty. He glanced from the Weasleys to Carewyn, almost silently asking if he’d pressured them into any of this. Charlie, in response, spoke rather forcefully.

“Well, frankly, we did want to! Andre deserves a fun holiday, for once. Reckon it’s a helluva lot better than that stuffy old ball going on up there.”

He jabbed a thumb behind him in the direction of the palace.

“The Prince’s safety is more important than a fun holiday,” Erika shot back coldly, “as are the King and Queen’s orders. You’d do well to remember that, Weasley.”

“Erika, please,” said Andre desperately. “No one from Florence would dare come this far west of the border...and even if they did, none of them would recognize me, dressed like this. And you said it yourself, KC, it’s likely they won’t attack our forces anyway until after the 8th -- that’s when their winter holiday is, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” granted KC with a frown. Her voice became much more thoughtful as she added, “Though if they wanted to be really clever, they’d strike on or the morning immediately after a holiday, when everyone’s got their guard down...”

Carewyn faced Erika with as much conviction as she could, even though she was completely eclipsed by the taller and stronger woman’s shadow.

“I realize the Prince’s safety is important,” she said in a very low voice, so as not to be overheard, “but if there truly was anyone who meant to target him, wouldn’t they be more likely to look for him at the Winter Ball, rather than here among the peasantry? And considering that the palace is only about five blocks away from here and he’s in the company in one of the castle’s most capable guards,” she nodded in Bill’s direction, “and both his combat instructor and our army’s chief military strategist...I’d say that he’s quite well protected.”

Erika gave Carewyn a beady look.

“People say you’re nothing like your family, Cromwell,” she said rudely, “but I think they’re full of it. You’re just as pretentious and fawning as the rest of them.”

She nonetheless released the back of Andre’s collar.

“I’ll stay for two hours only,” she muttered to him sourly. “When I go, you go.”

Andre beamed from ear to ear.

KC and Erika weren’t much for dancing, but they did loosen up in time, while sitting with the rest of the Weasleys and enjoying some of the fresh sugar-dusted crepes, mince pies, cocoa, and coffee. Before long as well, Andre had mastered the art of the country dance. Ginny was thrilled to have someone else who was just as excited to dance as she was, and -- bless her heart -- the twelve-year-old treated Andre with the same amount of cheer and respect as she probably would’ve anyone else, just like her brothers did. She even ended up giving Andre pointers about how to do the dances better. Carewyn soon found herself getting pretty tired, but Ginny, Charlie, and Andre all kept pulling her back into line with them, and she bit back her exhaustion if only to see them smiling a little longer. It had been a really long time since she’d been able to make anyone smile like that, while doing so little -- it made herself feel that little bit better about herself, and made her stand just that little bit taller.

While dancing to a particular song, the woman playing the fiddle sped up very abruptly, changing tempo. Soon everyone was rotating in chaotic, joyful circles, switching partners constantly. As to be expected in country dancing, a few people made mistakes that they had to correct, but nobody really cared. One mistake, though, was Carewyn losing her footing and tripping over her skirt. The new gray silk shoes Andre had made for her, as lovely and comfortable as they were, were more like slippers than any proper outdoor footwear and didn’t have great traction, so she would’ve fallen right off her feet if someone hadn’t suddenly appeared behind her and caught her with an arm gently looped around her back.

It was Orion. He was dressed in clothes that were nicer than usual, but still modest, including some brown suede boots and a handsome forest green doublet that ended up being the same shade as Carewyn’s dress, though he still lacked the high-collared undershirt one would usually see from a nobleman.

“Forgive me for catching you twice, my lady,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Carewyn couldn’t help but smile. “At least you weren’t hurt after throwing yourself under me this time -- ”

They couldn’t continue the conversation, though, without getting locked up in the midst of the group dance. Carewyn was forced to twirl in sequence, just to avoid another pair moving on through.

“Shall we?” she asked.

Orion suddenly looked oddly wary, like a foal learning how to walk.

“I’m afraid I’ve never done this before,” he murmured, just barely dodging another pair of dancers.

Following the sequence, Carewyn rested an arm lightly around Orion’s waist, steering him in a circle.

“Don’t worry,” she said, as she offered him an encouraging smile. “It’s only a pattern...no one will complain if you make a mistake. Follow me.”

His face betraying some hesitance, Orion nonetheless found himself letting go, mirroring Carewyn in stylized turns and spirals through the dancing crowd.

Orion had come to the Festival because he’d guessed that the mysterious “guest” Carewyn was shopping for was -- in fact -- the Prince of Royaume, and thus this would be the perfect opportunity for Orion to meet him and get a better fix on his character. But even with this goal in his mind, he’d found his inner balance oddly disturbed, when he caught sight of Carewyn. She’d always been a rather pretty woman, but in the company of her friends -- smiling with such pure, undiluted happiness, at the sight of how happy they were -- her blue eyes sparkling with such soft emotion, every time they laughed -- her ginger hair flying free as a flag behind her as she twirled around them...it distracted him. It was an unwelcome distraction, one he was quick to scold himself for, before trying to relocate his center and return to the task at hand. And yet, when Carewyn lost her footing, he found himself once again throwing away his own internal balance and laser-pointed focus in favor of turbulent, emotional chaos...and soon they were dancing, and Orion found himself surfing in that chaos -- relishing that wild, but liberating warmth he felt coming off of her. Was it some magical aura she had, that made him feel like he was dancing with a blazing, soothing fire even as the snow began to fall overhead?

Carewyn Cromwell truly was a remarkable woman, to divert the Prince of Florence’s focus away from his one and only goal...and yet, as Orion danced with her, he couldn’t help but think...oh, if their world could be but a world where they could dance like this anywhere...even in Florence, where everyone knew his face...

When the dance came to an end, everyone clapped, and Carewyn and Orion moved off to the side together to sit with Bill, Ron, KC, and Erika. Erika was very suspicious of Orion from the off-set, finding him way too “pleasant” for her tastes, but Orion wasn’t the least bit offended. If anything, he said with a wry smile, her aggressive aura in some ways reminded him of a good friend of his. After several more rounds, Andre, Charlie, and Ginny finally came to sit down with the others for a quick break.

“Whew! I’m parched,” said Andre. He brought a hand up to wipe the sweat from his brow.

“Here,” said Bill.

He offered the Prince a stein of apple cider. Andre gulped down about half of it before lowering the stein, his mouth stretched into a broad smile.

“Oh, Carewyn, thank you for this,” he said, reaching out a hand to squeeze hers. “If I’d had any concept just how much fun this was, I would’ve come years ago.”

Carewyn smiled, looking genuinely touched. “I’m glad you’re having fun, Andre.”

Orion glanced from Carewyn to Andre and back. His face was very unreadable, but his black eyes had widened noticeably.

This must be him, he realized. Prince Henri.

The thought was a club to the back of the head, knocking some sense back into him after having gotten so thoroughly distracted. Orion’s thoughts moved very quickly as he watched the two interact.

“I am,” Andre said fervently, his eyes squinting slightly as he beamed. “And I hope you know how grateful I am...”

Something grimmer flickered over his face.

“...I hope you know...Iris was wrong, about how I see you.”

Carewyn was startled. “Andre...”

“I don’t just see you like a little dress-up doll,” said Andre very seriously, as he squeezed her hand. “You’re my friend, and a good one, at that. And for what it’s worth...” he smiled broadly, “...I’d say any royal should be proud, to have you on their arm.”

Carewyn was clearly a bit overwhelmed by the Prince’s complimentary words. Her gaze had drifted down to the table.

“...Thank you, Andre,” she said very softly.

Although her face was demure, her sparkling eyes and voice betrayed some deep, genuine emotion -- and despite himself, Orion felt some warm pride welling up in his chest, at the sound of it. Catching himself, Orion forced himself to return to the task at hand and lightly cleared his throat.

“Forgive me,” he said politely, “but I don’t think we’ve met.”

Carewyn looked from Andre to Orion quickly.

“Oh -- yes,” she said, “Andre...this is Orion. Orion, Andre.”

Andre’s eyes lit up at the name.

“So this is the infamous Orion you’ve been telling me about, KC!” he said, shooting a bright grin over at his cousin.

Orion raised his eyebrows curiously. “‘Infamous?’ I must wonder what she’s told you, for me to have earned that title.”

KC grinned. “Just that you saved Carewyn from a bucking horse, pulled her out of a ravine, and climbed over the castle wall twice just to visit her.”

Ginny’s freckled face lit up. “Orion, you did all that? That’s so romantic!”

Both Orion and Carewyn immediately tried to correct the record, but no one seemed to care much. Andre was laughing most of the time.

“Are you well-traveled, Orion?” asked Andre. “Judging by the way your doublet is distressed, I’d guess you’ve been to the Islands in the Southern Sea -- I’ve only seen such fabrics as imports.”

“I’m...afraid I haven’t, actually,” confessed Orion. “Though I have been to the Southern Sea.”

Florence’s castle was actually positioned on the shore, right by the sea. It was one of the few things Orion could say in its favor, even though there were times it made him long to cast off and never return.

Everyone seemed interested in this.

“You have?” said Charlie eagerly. “What’s it like?”

“Did you sail on a ship?” asked Ginny.

“Were you ever attacked by pirates?” added Ron.

“Nothing that exciting, I’m afraid,” Orion chuckled. “I’ve only seen it, not sailed it...at least, not yet.”

Carewyn’s red lips turned up into a full, pretty smile. “It must be beautiful, though.”

Orion turned to her, his own mouth spread in a grin. “It’s breathtaking. A seemingly endless void of blue that nonetheless sparkles as green as jade and as white as pearl. It’s as translucent as crystal, and yet so deep and mysterious that ships have been swallowed whole by it, and no man could ever discover all of its secrets. Its waves whisper to you as it ghosts the shoreline, and yet it can also roar and ravage like a beast, without warning or mercy. It can hypnotize you, draw you in...make you long to drown yourself in it, while simultaneously wanting it to spirit you away, over the horizon...”

Like your eyes.

Orion caught himself staring in them. Closing his eyes and bowing his head, he forced a soft laugh.

“Forgive me -- I’ve gotten carried away...”

“Not at all,” said Carewyn gently. She rested a hand lightly on top of his forearm. “It sounds wonderful.”

Orion found himself unsure of how to respond to her touch. He’d never really been around a lot of physical affection before, so he was at a bit of a loss of what to do in such a situation. Fortunately Carewyn withdrew not long after, and Orion tried to find his center of balance again by turning his focus back to Andre.

“...I must say, though...your attention to detail is impressive, Andre. I can see why you and Carewyn get along -- she also has an eye for hair and clothing pieces.”

“Of course she does,” said Charlie, sparing a playful smile in Carewyn’s direction. “Carey is our little lady, after all.”

Carewyn shot Charlie an attempt at a sardonic look, but it was foiled by the broad smile that had conquered her face.

“That she is!” Andre laughed.

“A lady with considerable grit, however,” said Bill, his mouth turned up in a wry smile not unlike Charlie’s. “I’ve never seen anyone else climb up onto a mantle, just to reach a chandelier.”

KC looked at Carewyn incredulously. “What? Why didn’t you get a ladder?”

“It wasn’t necessary,” said Carewyn primly, crossing her arms. “I had it under control.”

Orion’s black eyes sparkled affectionately. “I’d say even an experienced soldier in the field would hesitate before climbing over a steep cliff and into a briar patch at the bottom of a ravine...wouldn’t you agree, Andre?”

Andre nodded. “I daresay so! Though I’ve never been to the battlefield myself, or met any soldiers...I would dearly like to, though.”

Orion frowned. “Like to?”

“Well, yes,” said Andre, his tone becoming more serious. “We could use all the help we can get out there...I’d love to feel like I could really help the war effort on the ground, rather than staying at home. Especially when my comfort is built on the backs of those who are hurting.”

Orion’s gaze fell down onto his hands as they clasped together on the table.

“...Your conviction is inspiring,” he said softly. “But believe me...a battlefield is not a place anyone should like to visit.”

Not long after, Erika rather abruptly rose to her feet and told Andre it was time to leave. The group all left the festival together, though Carewyn lingered behind with Orion, so as to try to give Andre cover for getting back inside the palace without anyone noticing.

Once they were alone, Orion once again found himself off-balance. He’d acknowledged before that Carewyn indeed was a person to be admired, as well as a person who could be admired by anyone...even him. He did admire her. He enjoyed her company -- he found her witty and engaging -- he identified with her independence, resilience, and determination -- he was struck by her compassion and utter selflessness. She was like him in so many ways, and yet she was methodical and insightful, as well as braver than a bear, despite her size. Her voice was so soothing, and yet it rippled with a kind of deep passion and emotion that it truly rivaled the deep, dark sea. And tonight especially...tonight, he kept catching himself staring...but none of that mattered. None of it should matter, in the face of achieving peace for Florence.

“She’s not on your side,” McNully’s words returned to him. “She’s on Royaume’s. Just...mind that you use your head as well as your heart, all right?”

Orion couldn’t help but feel as though using his head would be easier if he could more easily tell which way was up.

“I’m glad you came, Orion,” said Carewyn. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better dance instructor -- dancing isn’t really my area of expertise.”

Orion’s black eyes sparkled mischievously. “Perhaps we shall simply have to dance again in the future, so that we might practice.”

Carewyn giggled. “Somehow I doubt either of us will be attending any grand balls in the future.”

Orion’s amused gaze softened as it trailed over her cold-kissed pink cheeks and along the snowflakes clinging to the ginger waves cascading down her back.

Carewyn tilted her head, her lips twisted up in a wryly questioning smile. “...What?”

Orion looked away quickly.

“Forgive me -- I merely...don’t recall ever having seen you wear your hair down before. It’s...different.”

Carewyn brought a hand through her hair absently. “Mm...yeah, I guess it would be. I don’t wear my hair down much, but...well, I figured for a casual event like this, it wouldn’t be a problem...”

“It’s no problem at all,” said Orion. He kept his tone as level as possible, even though he felt a flush creeping up his neck. “I was just thinking it was appropriate...to see you letting loose with your friends, the same day you chose to wear your hair free...”

He came to a stop, and Carewyn stopped too, turning around to face him properly. Orion reached out his hand and -- very tentatively -- took hers, holding it between their chests like a gentleman.

“...You should be allowed to feel like that more often,” Orion murmured. “Free.”

Carewyn scanned Orion’s face, her eyes lingering on his before dipping into the corners of lips. Orion felt his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He wanted to kiss her hand, but...did he dare?

“She’s not on your team.”

“You reckon little Miss Knight-in-Shining-Armor would take kindly to that, when she finds out?

“Mind that you use your head as well as your heart, all right?”

It was just too much. Orion couldn’t think, whenever his thoughts got too loud. Closing his eyes, he took several deep, measured breaths. Only once he’d brought his heart rate down did he open his eyes again.

“I should go,” he said at last, his voice coming out much more calmly than he felt.

His eyes flickered down to his hand holding hers again, but he’d already lost his nerve. He released her hand, even though his hand felt like it had chilled as soon as the contact was broken.

“...Good night, Carewyn.”

He turned to go.

“Orion.”

Carewyn’s hand enclosed over his. Orion stiffened, his heart pounding full-force once more, and he turned back around to face her, just as she raised his hand up to her own lips and placed a gentle kiss to the back of it.

Orion stared. She raised her head with a smile, releasing Orion’s hand with a kind of muted confidence even despite the pinkness of her cheeks.

“Until we meet again, Mr. Freeman.”

With this, she picked up her skirts and darted away up the street, in the direction of the palace.

Orion stared after her. He stared long after she was out of sight, his galaxy-like black eyes staring at the swirling snow without even seeing it. He tentatively took his own hand, trailing his thumb over the place her lips had grazed...and despite all judgment, despite all rational thought, he found his lips turning up in a smile of their own accord. He’d never felt so light and so off-balance in all his life -- was this what it felt like, to glide on a bird’s wings? And yet he knew, despite the weightlessness he felt, it was instead indicative that he’d fallen.

In the midst of using her to get intelligence about her kingdom...in the midst of him following the strategy he’d laid out to get the end of the War he wanted, by learning their weak points and using them to soften others to him...Prince Cosimo Orion Amari, heir to the throne of Florence, had fallen head over heels in love.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #cinderella au #my art #my writing #orion amari #carewyn cromwell #andre egwu #bill weasley #charlie weasley #ginny weasley #ron weasley #katriona cassiopeia #erika rath #murphy mcnully #skye parkin #GAAAAAAH #I am so friggin' happy right now #the drawing was tricky but I'm actually kind of happy with it!#carewyn could sense orion's shyness and decided to give the poor guy a hand :3 #she probably isn't as aware of how deep her feelings are yet as orion is but she is very fond of him #that'll be made clearer in the next part #also andre I friggin' adore you ;~;#in carewyn's canon she and andre actually dated briefly at school XDD #but they ultimately broke up because they needed something different in a relationship #andre isn't really as feelsy and sensitive as carewyn and as stoic as she is she honestly does appreciate sensitivity #andre's the sort to push carewyn's more perfectionistic instincts not help her chill the f*** out like orion can #but they still make great friends <33

23 notes · View notes