#she now does not fight me on him being obnoxiously everywhere | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ioannemos · 8 months ago

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oc relationships ask: Michelle/David, 3, 4 | Q/Sinclair, 4, 10, 25 | 8. Muninn/Eli , 8, 9, 21 | Sam/Christine, 20 | Christine/Muninn, 26

Michelle/David

What were their first impressions of each other? How does that compare to their impressions of each other now?

michelle of david, first meeting: he was helping a friend of hers with an art installation, so that was already a point in his favor, but then he had an extremely dry sense of humor. even in a short conversation he had markedly different views of things she had always taken for granted and while he wasn't exactly fighting with her about it he didn't seem put off or annoyed by her strong opinions. also he wasn't bad looking and didn't make jokes about her somewhat wild appearance that day (she'd been painting so she was covered in paint (no really, there was paint everywhere), her hair was falling out of its messy bun, her long-sleeved shirt was too short in the sleeves, and her leggings had been slashed from the knee down at the outer seam bc they were too constricting; she was also barefoot and not wearing any makeup or jewelry). he just... intrigued her. so she asked for his number

michelle of david, now: he is her rock, her favorite person, even funnier than she thought and he doesn't care about her appearance bc he's more interested in her mind. she can be quiet around him, which is extremely rare, and so restful... he makes her feel safe

david of michelle, first meeting: oh no another weird artist. OH DAMN SHE'S HOT. wait she's talking to me. OH DAMN SHE'S OPINIONATED. i didn't know people could have opinions about that. but i don't mind???? huh. that's weird. ...she's asking for my number??? ...okay. this'll end badly but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

david of michelle, now: she's weird and flighty bc she's kinda still waiting for people to be put off. but he's been there, he's been deliberately off-putting so people will leave him alone, and while it can be a little frustrating he just… he loves her. he loves her random conversation starters and her convictions on driving etiquette and her stark colors. he loves that she's letting him into the things that have hurt her deeply in the past and that she's letting him care for her in those times, even if it's slowly. he loves her noise and he loves her silence, he loves her high emotional states and he loves knowing how to cheer her up when she drops, he loves that she cares so much and that she doesn't care at all. she's kinda like a puzzle and he really loves that she's letting him close enough to figure her out

How would they describe each other if asked? Physically? In personality?

michelle: david is so hot, and funny, and kind… [note: anyone who has met david without being his friend would react to all three of these descriptors with confusion at best. david is pretty mid in looks, has a sense of humor as dry as the atacama, and very much minds his own business to the extent that very few people would, say, ask him to sign a petition or even a birthday card for someone in the office]

david: she's great [note: yeah, that's it]

*:･ﾟ✧

Q-Sinclair

How would they describe each other if asked? Physically? In personality?

q: g o d he's annoying. he's SO annoying. obnoxious! self-absorbed. crazy, at times. a lunatic, even [someone says something accurate but mean-spirited about sinclair] …how fast can you run bc i'm about to commit cold-blooded murder bc only i am allowed to be critical of him

sinclair: q is awesome! he can be a little bit of a drag every now and then but he's great :^) 10/10 would get stuck on a yacht with him again

What is one major difference between them?

despite how it may look at times, q does in fact think ahead

If a stranger saw them together, how would they describe their relationship?

depends on where that stranger met them, tbh...

at a Function (such as a party, a silent auction benefiting a charity, really any black-tie event) where both have to be on their best behavior? nice, impeccably dressed, well-behaved young men. probably related? maybe cousins? it's a shame the Function had to end early bc the bathroom caught fire (??) bc that stranger would've loved to have another chat with either of them… (that they were subtly insulted by one of them kicks in some time on the road home) (and if any of these people compared notes with each other later they would be mightily confused which was which bc the two of them lie periodically about who's quincy and who's sinclair (or, indeed, which of them was quincy and which of them was sacheverall. wait, i heard one of them was sinclair and another sacheverall??)) (the two have absolutely no qualms about trying to gaslight people about this)

not at a Function? they appear to be related in some way. their clothes don't match but their hair, eyes, facial structure… the only thing scarier than them speaking normally is when they speak in some kind of personal code that's english-adjacent, at least what you can hear bc they do a lot of whispering/murmuring in each other's ears. there is also definitely Something Wrong With Them. they are Plotting. a wise stranger would probably run

*:･ﾟ✧

Muninn-Eli

How do they communicate with each other? Are there any recurring phrases or gestures unique to their relationship?

their most common method of communication is emails at this point. it used to be texts but eli texted waaay too often and was distracting muninn at work so he finally was like "listen man, you can keep texting me but i'm gonna have to mute you. can you idk like email me instead" and then it was spates of emails every other day until suddenly they were like. once a month. and then every three months. and then two lines every six months. and then a h u g e email once a year, full of rambling and repeated ideas and strangely formatted. muninn suspects eli just wrote down every thought in a draft and then sent it. he has no idea what to do with it

as for phrases or gestures, they definitely did when they were kids. as adults, not so much

What is one quality they have in common?

bad at people and so, so lonely (muninn less than eli now, but for most of his life)

What is their worst memory together?

muninn's high school graduation. eli attended. eli's parents tried to be supportive but eli tested out of school at eleven. they had no reference for normal teenagers. muninn's mom attended but didn't exactly come down to earth for it. eli's parents asked what he wanted to do for a job. he still planned to become a cop, which set off his dad who hadn't wanted to come anyway and had let it be known even before that. muninn's dad started a screaming match in the middle of the gymnasium. muninn, being eighteen, participated with gusto. it didn't get to blows but it sure looked like it was going to. eli was fifteen and vanished to the buffet. it wasn't like muninn actually blamed him for not being there or expected him to stand up to muninn's dad, but at the same time it still bothered him

(years later eli referred to it obliquely and in an extremely 'ah the futility of pleasing one's parents amirite' kind of way, which rang very hollow bc as far as muninn knew eli's parents had always been proud of eli. that didn't end well either. muninn didn't talk to eli through text, email, or phone call (bc yes eli did call that time) for at least two months)

*:･ﾟ✧

Sam/Christine

What is their best memory together?

they went on a little vacation just before their wedding bc christine was getting incredibly stressed about the preparations. sam didn't tell her until they were already on the road. christine just about exploded from stress, cried a little, and once she was calm sam was like "and now you see why, right" and she agreed through more tears. sam explained that he'd already arranged for a friend of his to handle everything that christine didn't actually care about and to simplify the things she did care about so that when they got back it would all be easier for her to arrange. they had a blissful two days in a tiny cabin near a tiny lake surrounded by trees with christine's phone left in the car's glove box. sam only checked his phone once in the mornings while christine was still asleep to make sure he wasn't missing anything actually catastrophic

later they joked that they had the honeymoon before the wedding bc they didn't have time after

*:･ﾟ✧

Christine+Muninn

How would these characters react to being stuck in a small room with each other?

they would do okay i think? they would take turns freaking out and calming the other down (though muninn would deny freaking out) (and i mean, it would be mostly a silent freak out easy to deny) (the times it wasn't silent would be harder), they both have lots of stories to pass the time, and the same sense of humor so what amused one would amuse the other (shittalking idiots, basically). both also have at least some idea of how to react in emergencies (muninn from his police training, christine from sam). they'd get on each others nerves, of course, bc i think in that circumstance it would be almost impossible not to, but christine is good at soothing ruffled feathers and muninn would feel Immeasurable Guilt at the idea of making christine cry so he would pull up short of actually, y'know, hurting her even emotionally

once freed, both would def be like "thank heavens i've been SAVED can you IMAGINE what it was like stuck with THEM this whole time!" christine would be like "he MOPED and SULKED it was TERRIBLE" and muninn would be like "she was so HAPPY and CALM it was UNBEARABLE" but then they'd also drop little insider jokes that no one else got and would be like "you wouldn't understand, we have a Deep Bond now that you will never comprehend" in like. the most incomprehensible circumstances, e.g.

someone: why is muninn crocheting octopi and how do we make him stop christine: oh he'll never stop, it's part of the Pact we made someone: ?? what pact?? christine: oh, i forgot, you weren't There someone: ? christine: you wouldn't Understand

#thank you #morfinwen #let's talk #ask #asked and answered #muninn #au: allwinter #no one else gets tags yet sorry guys #q free #of: heaven and earth #personal #abbie needs a twitter #ho-ly crap this has been in my drafts for for-ev-er sorry

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derinthescarletpescatarian · 4 years ago

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What I love about the gender and sexual diversity in Juno Steel isn’t just that diverse characters exist. It’s that they live in a world where their existence is taken for granted.

So many science fiction stories make diversity A Thing, even if it’s a really small and subtle Thing, and I hate it. I’m tired of it. I’m sick of far-flung futures where people live in space and have amazing technology but culture is still massively cisheteronormative, and I’m even more sick of worlds where authors try to make it so culture isn’t massively cisheteronormative but don’t lay their social groundwork so somehow make it even more of A Thing, revealing their own biases.

Juno Steel doesn’t do that. Not only are characters who aren’t cis or heterosexual everywhere, there’s no underlying assumption that they should be cis or heterosexual. Juno’s a he/him lady and at no point is this any kind of problem for anyone. In the whole series I can think of two people misgendering him (because they just met him and, like anyone when meeting a new person, go on apparent physical and social cues) and in both cases the correction just isn’t A Thing. Early in the series, he’s fighting a random thug, who tells him to “fight like a gentleman”, and he responds with ‘I’m not a gentleman, I’m a lady’ as fighting banter, and it’s treated exactly the same as if someone had called him a dumb blonde and he’d whipped a wig off and said, “actually, I’m a brunette” -- it’s not A Thing. It’s just meaningless fighting banter and they move on.

The second time, he’s at a party, undercover with his boyfriend. The hostess gets into a discussion with said boyfriend about Juno, who’s wearing a very eye-catching golden dress and very much playing up being a lady, and refers to hims as ‘she’, and his boyfriend does NOT do that stupid fucking thing that cis people always do and stop the conversation to be like “AcTuAlLy, my love’s *preferred pronouns* are -- ”, he just continues the conversation calling Juno ‘he’, and the hostess proceeds to do the same (without doing the even more stupid fucking thing of stopping the conversation to apologise, which is obnoxious and The Worst). It’s just Not A Thing.

Said hostess of the party is also trans, and until the party, had presented as a man with the world’s most eye-catching haircut (she’s a rich eccentric). At the party, nobody recognises her until she reveals her identity, not because of her gender presentation, but because she had a haircut. (It’s also a running joke in the series that sometimes someone will mention an old Earth custom that nobody else has ever heard of, like the one character on Mars who celebrates Christmas. This hostess, who has a Russian surname, changes it to the feminine form of the surname as Russians do, and explains it’s an ‘old earth custom’, which confuses the hell out of everyone -- it must get pretty complicated, changing your surname every time you get a haircut.) Her gender is just straightup Not A Thing.

Very early in the series, we meet a celebrity crime family who make a living off crime and reality TV. Imagine if the Kardashians also ran the mafia, and owned a major TV channel and several prisons and mental health facilities where they were allowed to market footage of the people inside for entertainment, privacy laws just not being a thing (or a thing they have circumvented through exploitative contracts). Everything about these people is big and over-the-top they’re terrible on purpose and if somebody dies then that’s great for ratings.

Two of these are Cassandra and her twin brother Cecil. It’s very heavily implied through the story that the pair are identical twins, and given that their voice actor’s voice is definitely not affected by testosterone, reasonable to assume that Cecil is a trans man. We can’t be sure, though, because that never comes up in the plot. Cecil has an underground torture dungeon where he films a twisted quiz show, once got himself kidnapped by gangsters on purpose for TV ratings, lost his arm in the rescue and now has a cool robot arm. Absolutely everything about him is played up and out-there and over the top for those delicious reality TV viewers. At no point is him being trans ever mentioned, even in passing. It’s not part of his persona because it’s just not interesting or unusual. It isn’t A Thing.

The agender characters aren’t A Thing. They’re just there. The gay and bisexual characters aren’t A Thing. They’re just there. Most of what we know about the sexuality of anyone is speculation based on their dating history; nobody ever comes out to anyone because there’s no need to, there’s no assumption of heterosexuality so the lack of heterosexuality isn’t a surprise. Juno can kiss Peter in one episode and Alessandra a couple of episodes later and doesn’t have to explain to anyone that he’s bisexual. Alessandra can have a fling with Juno and then get engaged and there’s no assumption that her fiance is a man, or surprise that she’s a woman.

Only twice in the series does anyone explicitly state romantic or sexual preferences -- Rita, in a strip club, is asked whether she wants the company of a man or a woman and says “just give me whatever”. (This is a reasonable question to explicitly ask in a strip club.) And Jet, in conversation, once mentions not having romantic or sexual feelings for anybody -- this isn’t explained because HEY LOOK EVERYONE ASEXUALITY AND AROMANTICISM IS A THING, LOOK AT OUR DIVERSITY, WE HAVE TO TELL YOU THAT THERE’S AN ACE GUY HERE. It’s explained because Jet overexplains and overspecifies everything. It’s a core character trait of his, and his sexuality is neither exempt from this nor given special treatment, because it isn’t A Thing.

I’m tired of stories with space travel that unconsciously reflect our own cisheteronormativity no matter how socially advanced they try to be, in the same way that I’m tired of stories with dragons in them that unconsciously reflect our own misogyny no matter how gender equal they claim to be. It’s just nice to see someone get it right occasionally.

#juno steel #the penumbra podcast #tpp

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

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i've been keeping a list of possible prompts for you and there's one i have no memory of adding that just says "courtesan nmj????" so i guess that's the prompt you're getting lmao

What Does the Fox Say - ao3

“Second Madame Nie!” a disciple shouted, rushing into her little garden. She didn’t recognize him, but he was solidly built and well-muscled like most of the others – truly, the Unclean Realm was a rapturous feast for one with eyes to see it. Yum, yum. “Second Madame Nie, I have bad news!”

Boo. She hated bad news: bad news meant she’d have to do something, usually, and right now she was seated very comfortably in a pleasant piece of sun in the garden path that’d been made up just for her and to her preferences, with her feet up on a chair and a full plate of fruit from the kitchen on the table in front of her just begging to be devoured, morsel by delicious morsel.

Her schedule was packed!

“I regret to tell you, but your husband has been killed!”

“Oh,” she said, frowning slightly. “Has he? How obnoxious of him.”

How unreliable. Men.

She sighed.

“Second Madame – Second Madame – you don’t understand!” The disciple was all red-eyed and weepy, which was a look she liked, especially in big, stout men like this. The salt added a bit of spice to the whole thing. “You must flee at once! He was killed by Sect Leader Wen in an act of outright aggression – Sect Leader Wen has declared war – the Wen sect is invading!”

She nodded and picked up another lychee to start peeling it. She’d get around to fleeing in her own time. As long as this Wen sect or whatnot was being led by a man, she wasn’t terribly concerned.

“They intend to wipe out the inheritance of Qinghe Nie! They will rip out the child in your belly!”

She hummed noncommittally. Really, how attached was she to having a child of her own? Really?

“They will slaughter civilians – execute Nie-gongzi –”

Her hands stilled.

“What,” she said, and the disciple took a step back automatically, proving that he, at least, had something more of a survival instinct than her late husband did. “Hurt my little meat bun? My darling rice roll? My savory zongzi?”

She stood up, diminutive height and over-large belly and frilly clothing doing absolutely nothing to diminish the vaguely menacing aura that darkened the sky around her. She bared her teeth.

“Who does this upstart Wen dog think he is?!”

The disciple blinked owlishly, but nodded, seeming relieved that she’d finally accepted his concern, though she could see on his face that he was thinking that her reasoning was – characteristically – a little strange. But then again, and she could see this thought process on his far too honest face, it was well known that the second Madame Nie been quite strange ever since Sect Leader Nie had found her in some lonesome place with no family or background and brought her back to be his new wife nevertheless.

Such a charming man. Pity about his loss, really.

“You have to flee at once, we can’t possibly fight so many people,” the disciple said once more, and this time she nodded in agreement. “We can escort you to a hidden exit –”

“No!” a little voice called. “We can’t go.”

She turned to look, and there was the little pork-and-shrimp dumpling himself, chubby-cheeked and earnest-eyed, looking as delicious as always.

“What do you mean, fish cake?” she asked. “Of course we have to go. Didn’t you hear what this strapping young man said? This Wen person wants to kill you!”

“If Father is dead, then I’m the sect leader,” her stepson said. He was serious and solemn in a way that made her want to pinch his cheeks and bury her face into his belly to blow raspberries, and also possibly to eat him right up, flesh and marrow and gristle and all. “That means it’s my responsibility to preserve the Nie sect.”

“Nie-gongzi, no!” the disciple cried, throwing himself to his knees in a dramatic display of loyalty. “You would only die – far better for you to run, and live!”

“Then isn’t the same true for everyone else?” the tasty little dish asked, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. Possibly he was trying to put on a fierce expression, maybe, she couldn’t quite tell sometimes. He was so cute. “Why should I live, and them not? I refuse to buy my life with their deaths!”

“But – Nie-gongzi –”

Her charming little honey cake shook his head and held up a hand to stop the disciple, turning to look at her instead.

“Second Mother,” he said, and he had that wholesome trusting expression again that was such a perfect little one-shot-kill to the heart, ugh. “You always said you’re the best at hiding. The best in the world, no one better among all the gods or demons!”

She was, too. She couldn’t help but preen a little, proud.

“– can’t you do something?”

“Oh, darling cabbage bun,” she said, not without fondness. “I can hide myself from even the net of Heaven itself if I so choose, from gods and demons alike, and I can most certainly hide a small group from any mortal eyes that dare to look, if you don’t mind being a little tiny bit dishonorable about the business. But an entire sect? That’s a bit much, even for someone as talented and skilled as me.”

Her stepson looked up at her, all straight-steel sincerity and upright righteousness wrapped into a perfectly edible little snack-sized package. “If we split them up, the sect could be small groups,” he said eagerly. “Couldn’t you do something then?”

He was so cute, and he trusted her. He trusted her, believed in her, felt that she could perform miracles with a wave of her sleeve if only she so wished.

It was awful.

She couldn’t bear it.

“Oh all right, you nummy little slice of roast pork belly,” she said, yielding. “But I’m telling you now, it won’t be the least bit honorable! There’s only so many excuses you can come up with for having a lot of strong men with wide shoulders and women with thick thighs hanging around, and not a single one of them has the slightest bit to do with what you people consider to be appropriate.”

“That’s all right. Preserving human life comes first, always.”

The disciple looked between them, clearly completely confused. Clearly all his effort had been spent on developing the muscles in his arms (quite nice) rather than his brain (quite slow).

“What?” he said. “What’s happening?”

“We’re saving the sect,” Nie Mingjue announced happily, clapping his hands together. Too precious, too precious entirely; she’d have to make sure no one else even thought about going near her darling little snackling. “Tell everyone to prepare to evacuate.”

“That will take too long,” she said, and smiled, with teeth. “Let me call some friends to help.”

When the Wen sect arrived at the Unclean Realm, they found the gate open.

That was unexpected enough, but when they entered, they found that the entire place had emptied out – not just of people, but of everything else, too. There wasn’t a single intact chair or table in the entire place, not a scrap of cloth nor a bit of food, like it’d been swept clean by locusts or wild monkeys come to pilfer whatever they could.

Even the paving stones where arrays had been laid out by the Nie sect’s ancestors had been pried up and carted away.

Sect Leader Wen ordered a search, but there wasn’t any trace of it – of the people, of the stuff, anything.

No one ever found out what happened.

Jin Guangyao despised social events, he’d found.

It was one thing when it was something he’d planned himself, where the work was interesting enough to distract him, but when he was an honored guest for someone else…miserable. Utterly miserable.

The only thing more miserable was when the host was his erstwhile father, from whom he’d forcefully extracted recognition. With Wen Ruohan as his backer, indulging his favorite torturer as if a beloved pet, there wasn’t much Jin Guangshan could do to refuse, and neither could he force Jin Guangyao to do anything on his behalf, either. And so Jin Guangyao, sitting as always by Wen Ruohan’s side, right beneath his sons, was now an honored guest at his father’s house, getting offered his pick of prostitutes as if the man had no notion of the irony.

Maybe he didn’t. Jin Guangyao couldn’t quite tell if his father had just forgotten his origins, thinking his bastard son too unimportant to remember the details of, or whether it was meant as a deliberate insult – who could tell?

“Oh, right,” the simpering idiot in front of him, a nephew or cousin of some sort to the sect leader, said. “Our dear Jin Guangyao is known not to like the gentle flower queens, even when they come from the finest houses in Lanling. Isn’t that right, cousin?”

Jin Guangyao’s fists clenched. A deliberate insult, then.

Despite that, his face remained neutral. Instead, he chuckled and said, “The appeal is limited. After all, I have seen the best of them.”

Beside him, Wen Ruohan nodded and smirked. He appreciated Jin Guangyao’s devotion to his mother, though Jin Guangyao suspected it was because he thought it funny that Jin Guangyao would bother to honor such a lowly woman – but what he thought didn’t matter, not really. All that mattered was that he let Jin Guangyao pay his respects to her to his heart’s content.

“Well, you’re in luck!” the idiot Jin Zixun said, looking absurdly smug. “We have something of a different flavor than the usual tonight – we’ve invited entertainment from the local branch of Splendid Spring.”

Jin Guangyao barely managed to avoid rolling his eyes.

The Splendid Spring Palace was a series of brothels that had popped up fully formed just about everywhere some years back, with madams and girls and musicians and bodyguards of all sorts. It was so patently a political move that Jin Guangyao had barely bothered to pay attention to it once he’d become actually powerful, and Wen Ruohan hadn’t paid attention to it at all. After all, in the unlikely event that the business really was backed by a cultivation sect that didn’t care about its face any longer, anyone who needed to use such a façade to gather power was clearly beneath notice.

Jin Guangyao had paid only very little attention, but to different and unusual aspects of the place: by all accounts, they were surprisingly decent employers as far as places like that went. They didn’t steal girls or accept unwilling goods – they had some connection with the merchant caravans, or at least one of the companies that helped coordinate routes and provide protection to such things, and they were as meticulous about checking things over as they were about seeking refunds if they were dissatisfied – and they did accept married girls fleeing unhappy marriages, which not everyone did. They did buy up all the girls in the local markets wherever they were, but they swept them away and brought them back transformed, even the ones that wouldn’t sell because they were too ugly; Jin Guangyao assumed that meant they had people who were talented in make-up and clothing, since the usual rumors of the girls being blessed with a yao’s enchantment were obviously ridiculous and nothing more than the usual marketing gimmicks that brothels since time immemorial had tried.

Even once they had the girls in hand, the places were pretty decent: they had physicians on staff to help with the usual side effects of the business, made sure their girls were clean and healthy, and were said to even limit the number of customers a girl would be obliged to take on in a given evening…honestly, knowing as he did the brothel business, Jin Guangyao sometimes wondered how they’d managed to bespell enough people to even make money in the early days. At any rate, whatever they’d done, it’d worked, because by now they had a solid enough reputation to trade on.

In short: a decent enough place, far better than the usual run of the mill. Once he’d had the ability to do so, he’d even pulled a few strings and arranged for the better of his mother’s old compatriots to end up there, since he couldn’t convince them to leave their old professions behind entirely.

Anyway, if they also seemed to have a sideline in information brokering and assassinations, well, let them. In the cultivation world, where the only thing that mattered was strength, real strength.

A little thing like that wouldn’t make any real difference.

Or so Jin Guangyao had thought.

He found himself re-thinking that, though, when the entertainment in question came out. There were the usual set of attractive (albeit in a wider variety of shapes and sizes than usually seen) dancers, dressed up in silks that seemed actually high quality, and plenty of strapping young men carrying sabers – dancers as well, once assumed, to provide some spice to the entertainment, and implicitly on the offer for men who cut their sleeves or women with more flexibility, like widows or ones with especially permissive husbands. Wen Ruohan’s wives were in that latter category, and they were already whispering to each other excitedly, looking at them.

They’d even brought in the local madame, who was…

Well, she was actually breathtaking, even by Jin Guangyao’s extremely jaded standards. She had hair that fell almost all the way to her ankles, shimmering in the light, and dark eyes shining with liveliness, a smooth and ageless face that simultaneously suggested youth and health but also winked at knowable experience, the features characteristic of what his mother’s employers had called the ‘fox-face’. As if to emphasize that, the lady was wrapped in fox-fur and draped in embroidered brocade, with little stylized foxes running up and down the hems of her clothing and along the gazy silk draped on her shoulders.

It ought to have looked absurd, looked gaudy and overwrought and overdone, but it didn’t.

She was a thousand dreams of wealth and beauty and power and sex appeal all wrapped up in one, and even Jin Guangyao – who was in his personal preferences quite firmly a cutsleeve – couldn’t help but intrigued by her, wondering what it might be like to touch the hem of such a glorious creature.

And next to her…

The lady was accompanied by two men that seemed completely different from each other. One was a slender and winsome young man, fluttering his eyelashes from behind a fan with a charming smile, emanating the appeal of softness and weakness, ready to be indulged. While the other…

Jin Guangyao swallowed.

He was the exact opposite of the first man. Clearly strong, muscular and powerful, and tall to the point of towering, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist, a chest that you could lean your head against and an ass that begged to have someone’s hands on it – and there were his hands, big and broad, perfect for holding someone down or up if they so wished and of a size that was very promising as to what was only hinted at under his clothes. His face was hidden behind a veil as if he were a woman, marking him, like his comrade, as one of the available courtesans of the Splendid Spring, but his body was visible under clothing clearly cut to put it to the best advantage.

And oh, what advantages it had…!

“It seems we found something to the tastes of dear cousin Guangyao after all,” the idiot said mockingly, sniggering and snorting like the pig he was, and for once Jin Guangyao didn’t even care.

“Who’s the woman in front?” Wen Ruohan asked, ignoring their interplay. He seemed utterly fascinated, almost spellbound, and Jin Guangyao couldn’t blame him one bit. If this woman had been at the same brothel as his mother, there wouldn’t have even been room for jealousy or shame; his mother would have gone straight up to her to ask for some tips. “She seems…familiar, somehow.”

“That’s the madame of the Splendid Spring,” Jin Zixun said proudly, as if he’d done anything at all in relation to this – nonsense, of course. Everyone know which brothels were backed by the Jin sect, and Splendid Spring wasn’t one of them. He was acting as if he deserve a pat on the back just for the introduction! “That means she’s not for sale.”

His smile faded a little, twisting in a small bit of bitterness. “Or so she told my uncle, anyway…although I’m sure if it were Sect Leader Wen asking, the answer would undoubtedly be different.”

Probably because Jin Guangshan couldn’t slaughter prostitutes with impunity if they said no to him, whereas no one could stop Wen Ruohan from doing any damn thing he pleased.

Wen Ruohan grunted, pleased by the answer – he was a possessive man, in the rare events that he did exert himself in the realm of women, and there had been more than one instance where he’d stolen away some girl his sons had been eyeing first just for the joy of having had her first – and raised a hand, catching the lady’s eye and gesturing for her to come over, which she did.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She laughed. “You can call me Hu Jiuwei. With the ‘Hu’ being the character for fox.”

Jin Guangyao tried not to choke. There were false names and then there were false names – the lady’s theme was already clearly related to foxes, given her fox-face and fox-fur lining and the foxes embroidered onto her robes. Was the over-the-top name really necessary?

“It’s a fake name,” she added, unnecessarily.

“I see,” Wen Ruohan said, sounding a little choked himself. Possibly it was the woman calling herself ‘Foxy Ninetails’ and then kindly reassuring them all that the name was false as if she thought them too dumb to figure it out that was tripping him up a little. Jin Guangyao couldn’t tell if she was doing it deliberately in order to make her frankly inhuman beauty a little less frightening, or maybe she was blessed with so much beauty that she hadn’t bothered to cultivate her brain at all. “Are you our entertainment for the evening?”

She smiled, and any complaints Jin Guangyao (or indeed Wen Ruohan) might have had about her intelligence faded away at once.

It was that type of smile.

You could wreck nations with that type of smile. Jin Guangyao couldn’t help but wonder: how had a woman this extraordinary ended up in a brothel, of all places? How had no one snatched her up to keep her all for himself before now?

“My sons and I –” she gestured at the two behind her, “– would be more than happy to provide you with all the entertainment you could possibly want.”

Her smile widened.

“We’ve been hoping for an opportunity like this for a long time.”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #second madame nie #jin guangyao #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #what does the fox say

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lord-of-gender · 4 years ago

Text

A Small Problem - Part 2

Once again my inspiration comes from @deyageka

Word count: 1960

Syndicate Meeting

"Perhaps if we-" Phil was saying as Ranboo came into the meeting room, with Tommy right at his heels. It had been two months since they originally found him in the prison and Ranboo had volunteered to watch him that day, completely forgetting about the meeting. He knew he didn't have to come, but it was a good excuse to finally tell them about Tommy.

"Hi, sorry I'm late," Ranboo said awkwardly, knowing the other explanation that he would have to give.

"Hallo!" Tommy said cheerily, moving to stand next to Ranboo, some paper and coloring pigments in his arms.

"What the actual fuck," Phil said, he did a double take when he saw Tommy.

"Heh!?" Techno exclaimed, of all the things he expected, a young Tommy was not on the list. "How?! I thought you said he was dead."

"No, no, no, don't tell me that's Tommy," Niki said, shaking her head.

"Yes, he did die, but Dream revived him," Ranboo said, shifting from foot to foot, "I think that's what happened. Sam found him in the prison like this."

"So that's why you asked me, Tommy couldn't keep his mouth shut," Phil muttered, talking about when Ranboo asked about the old Empire. He knew Ghostbur wouldn't have remembered it, or else he would have mentioned it to him.

"I'm the Empire-er," Tommy went up to Techhno and held up a wooden sword, he also wore the paper crown he made. "Like you."

"Be quiet," Techno growled, Tommy backed away, this wasn't the Technoblade he remembered. The boy ran over to Ranboo and buried his head in his shirt. Ranboo could feel his shirt start to get wet as Tommy started to cry. What had he done wrong? Why was Techno mad at him?

"Oh my gosh, Tommy are you okay," Ranboo knelt down to Tommy's level, taking out a cloth so he wouldn't get wet from the boy's tears.

"Tech-no does-n't like me," Tommy sobbed, sniffling between words.

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true," Ranboo said, he looked back at Phil and Niki, silently asking them for help. "He's just surprised to see you."

"I just want Wilbur," Tommy said, his cries starting to die down and reduce to hiccups. "Sam pwomised he would find him."

"He doesn't know," Phil asked, at this age Tommy had idolized Techno and Wilbur. He followed Techno around everywhere and wanted to know everything about him.

"Know, what," Tommy sniffed, using his sleeve to wipe off mucus. "What don't I know?"

"A few months ago," Phil came over and crouched in front of Tommy. "Something happened and-"

"It might be better to find Gho-Wilbur first to tell him," Techno said, the voices had been telling him one of two things. To protect Tommy as all costs, or to kill Tommy for being an orphan. "Who's watching him? Or is he an orphan?"

"I- uh- Sam is mainly taking care of him, so no, he's not an orphan," Ranboo stuttered, knowing a bit of Techno's history with orphans.

"I mean last time I checked I wasn't fucking dead," Phil chuckled, Niki started giggling.

"So what's the plan for today," Ranboo asked, he picked up Tommy as the boy kept pulling on his shirt.

"We're going to do some recon on the Egg," Techno said, "Phil received an invitation to some banquet so we're going to check it out beforehand."

"So I probably shouldn't have brought him," Ranboo said, talking about Tommy as he started to nod off.

"Can't we take him to Snowchester," Phil said, subtly asking if Tommy could stay with Micheal.

"I don't know, Tubbo's not going to be there for a while. He and Jack are busy doing something," Ranboo didn't know what it was there were doing, but it seemed important to Tubbo. And he didn't want Sam to get mad at him for leaving Tommy alone for a little bit.

"He'll be fine alone," Phil said, "We used to do that all the time when he was originally this age."

"You are a terrible parent," Ranboo said.

"Okay mate," Phil rolled his eyes, "you can't be speaking here. Especially not about that shit."

"I wanna stay here," Tommy piped in.

"We could talk to Puffy on our way," Techno said.

"Auntie Puffy!" Tommy said excitedly, bouncing in Ranboo's arms. At the mention of Puffy he had brightened up and got energetic again.

"I guess we have our answer then," Niki laughed.

"Are you good to stay here by yourself for a bit," Ranboo asked. Tommy shook his head and pointed at Niki, she seemed nice.

"Huh, he didn't mind staying home when I took care of him," Phil said.

"Well we think he might have vague memories of what happened in his past," Ranboo lowered his voice and put Tommy down to let him walk over to Niki. "Sometimes he'll just freeze when coming near lava or even a Nether Portal. We've noticed that most of the time he hates being alone."

"I want to stay wif you," Tommy said to Niki.

"I don't know, Puffy and I don't have the greatest history," Niki said, then looked down at Tommy's face as he started to pout. "But I can't say no to you. You are absolutely adorable. Okay, just this once."

"Go now," Tommy waved at them as he sat in the chair next to Niki.

"He does that alot," Ranboo chuckled, "see you later, Tommy."

"Okay Ranboo," Tommy pulled out Clementine from his inventory and made airplane noises as he moved it in the air. Ranboo, Techno, and Philza left the meeting room as Niki laughed with Tommy.

"I haven't seen him like that since," Phil started but trailed off.

"Well of course not, he's a little kid again," Ranboo said.

"Pogtopia," Techno finished for Phil, "he has that light in his eyes again. I remember when we were building that big obnoxious tower, but it made him happy."

"How long had Tommy been with you," Ranboo asked.

"I found him when he was four or five," Phil said, "Wilbur is my only biological son. I adopted Tubbo when he was five as well."

"It's still weird seeing Tommy at that age again," Techno said.

"Yeah, I can't imagine how much of a shock it was when I brought him in there," Ranboo said, he should have thought about it beforehand.

"Oh we were surprised for sure," Philza laughed.

After the trip through the Nether to the community portal they found Bad, Ant, and Punz waiting right outside of the portal. How were they supposed to tell Puffy now?

"Hello, Philza," Punz said, "I didn't think you'd only have two people coming with you."

"Our fourth member is on her way," Techno said, "don't try and threaten us. We have all the power here."

"Ranboo, go talk to Puffy," Phil whispered to him. "Gentlemen, there's no need to fight. We were just curious about the meaning of this invitation I received."

"Ah yes, the banquet," Ant said, "the egg has realized it over stepped a bit, so we've been cleaning up some of the vines and are holding a festival of sorts as a formal apology to the server. You are all invited, we just wanted Phil as a guest of honor."

"Well I'm pretty sure the last time I went to a festival, it didn't turn out well," Techno chuckled, but the voices had raised a good question. Why Phil?

"We swear it won't end like those," Bad said, "I mean we aren't L'Manburg after all."

"Maybe Techno would be more convinced if we saw this change ourselves," Phil said as he spotted Puffy coming towards them, then messaged Niki. Ranboo rejoined the group.

"Of course," Bad said turning around, allowing Puffy to go around them then enter the Nether.

"So uh, where's Skeppy," Ranboo asked, he'd heard from Sam that he had also been infected. "I haven't seen him around recently."

"We don't know," Punz said, "haven't seen him in a while."

"So when you say everyone is invited, who does this include," Phil asked, if they invited the whole server this could be a problem. Tommy couldn't just be left alone for a few hours, but the last thing they wanted was to take him near the Egg.

"Well everyone, except for Dream of course," Bad said, "but alot have said they'll be busy and unable to make it." They walked along the prime path where huge vines used to be, it appeared that they had been cleaned up. Soon Niki caught up with then.

"So what's going on," She asked, holding a cheerful expression to disguise the fact they were hiding something.

"We were just telling them about the banquet," Bad said, "you're coming, right Niki?"

"Of course, I wouldn't miss it," She said.

Something about the banquet and how similar it was to the L'Manburg festivals didn't sit right with Techno. To make matters worse he had just received a message from Quackity.

"I have to do something, you guys can fill me in when we get back," Techno said, he noticed Phil's questioning expression. "Don't worry it has nothing to do with my favor."

"See you later Techno," Ranboo said, he had been wondering the same thing but didn't want to say anything.

"Yeah, I'll say hi to the kid for you," Techno said. It was a throw away comment, but it seemed to interest Bad.

"Kid?" He asked, after checking that Techno was out of hearing range Ranboo responded with: "Yeah, me and Tubbo adopted."

"Oh, you mean Michael," Bad said, he'd heard about the young zombie piglin.

"We were going to Snowchester afterwards," Phil said, easily going along with Ranboo's lie.

"Yeah! You know, every member is important," Niki said, she had no idea who they were talking about, but she could use what they had said to play along.

“Well we should probably let you guys do that,” Bad said, he wasn’t sure if it was time to show them the Egg. No, it wasn’t, they had enough evidence from them to go to the banquet.

“Yes, you’re right,” Ranboo was getting uneasy, he didn’t like anything about the Egg or the Eggpire.

“See you the 25th!”

#ask and ye shall receive #ranboo #syndicate technoblade #childinnit #i hope you like it cause this is the last of the fluff #prepare for angst in the next part #crimson egg #eggpire #nihachu #philza

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spideyobsessed · 4 years ago

Text

Before It’s Too Late Ch. 2

peter parker x avenger!reader

Synopsis: With all the life changing events taking place, will you ever get to overcome some of your biggest fears?

Might wanna read Ch. 1

You run and run and run until your legs nearly go numb. Bumping into people, tripping over your feet, the sounds of your heavy breathing getting louder and louder. There’s only one thought etching itself into your mind: Tony’s words.

If you got your powers from that thing, then I’m positive you can do a lot more.

A lot more.

Why now? After years of having these abilities, why now? It’s almost like the words he spoke yesterday were a trigger and now they’ve awaken something that’s been dormant inside of you.

I heal and that’s it. I heal and that’s it. This can’t be happening right now.

You finally take a right down an alleyway and slow down to a stop. No words can be strung together to perfectly describe the sensation you’re feeling. It isn’t painful, but you ache. Energy is surging through your veins, but you feel like you need to lay down and rest. You feel anxious, but if the circumstances were different, you can find this quite enjoyable. It’s confusing.

You sit down right next to a dumpster and bring your knees up to your chest, fighting the urge to let out a gut wrenching scream. You can feel something inside of you bubbling up and growing stronger. It’s a tight feeling, like your body is a champagne bottle and the cork is going to skyrocket any minute now. For a brief moment, you come to the conclusion that you are literally going to explode and accept your fate.

...you can do a lot more.

Your hands cover your ears, your thoughts ultimately becoming too loud for you to endure. It’s like all of your senses are heightening, yet numbing all at once. You can’t pull it together. Your face scrunches up as you unintentionally hold your breath. Useless.

Involuntarily, you let out a cry that you’re sure can be heard throughout all of Queens. You feel your body jerk harshly three times before, all at once, everything stops.

A breath of relief escapes your lips as you finally relax your tense body, but the anxiety remains. Nothing new. Your entire physique feels tingly. Too fatigue to immediately spring into action, you remain sitting in your spot.

After a few moments, you take in your surroundings. The alley, although it was noticeably trashed when you entered, looks horrendous. The dumpster is about three feet away from you now. The windows in surrounding buildings are shattered. Several car alarms are blaring.

“What just happened to me?”

- - - - -

“You better keep your little girlfriend in check, Parker.” Flash threatens Peter before purposely bumping into him.

Unfazed by him, Peter turns his attention to Gwen. “Uh, is she..” He trails off.

“Yeah, she’s fine! I should still go check on her though. Best friend duties, ya know?” Gwen chuckles awkwardly.

Ned speaks up, “I totally get that. Being the superior friend comes with a lot of responsibilities.”

Peter furrows his eyebrows before shooting a look at his best friend, who is supposedly superior to him. “Don’t act like you didn’t know.” Ned says simply, earning a laugh from Peter.

“Exactly! So I gotta go.” Gwen says as she tries to walk away from the dorky pair.

“Can I come with you? I’d like to check on her, if that’s okay.” Peter asks.

If this were any other time, Gwen would’ve agreed before he even finished his sentence. She’s been rooting for you and Peter from the start, along with several other people, considering you two have made your feelings for each other extremely obvious to every except each other. It warms her heart to see your crush of four years finally getting the courage to get to know you.

However, having seen your hands radiating that familiar glow with her own eyes, she has to lie.

“You actually can’t b-because she’s just...on her period?” She lies horribly, but it’s perfect enough to fool two young men.

Peter immediately backs off, understanding that it’s not really his department of expertise. “Yeah I think you got this. Tell her I’ll text her later please?”

“Gotcha. Bye guys!” She waves at them before fast walking in the direction you went.

The two boys stay in place, as quiet as they’ve ever been. Both of them are obviously thinking the exact same thing. They don’t even have to say it out loud, but of course, they do anyway.

“Dude.”

“I know.”

“DUDE!”

“I KNOW!!”

They giggle together happily as they do their signature handshake before sharing a celebratory hug.

“She’s so into you!” Ned cheers when he pulls apart from his best friend.

“Do you really think so?” Peter questions, “That could’ve been strictly platonic.”

“Trust me, man. It wasn’t! She’s practically in love with you!” Ned over exaggerates, but he wasn’t wrong.

Peter doesn’t respond to his comment, but instead looks down at the ground and smiles to himself. “

‘Does she actually like me?’ He thinks.

The short events of today made him even more excited for the party tomorrow. Although he’s nervous and still very doubtful about your feelings for him, he planned on confessing his feelings for you at the party.

Ned continues to ramble on about “the birds and the bees”, (Peter doesn’t even know how he got to that topic), when suddenly chills plaster Peter’s body. He lifts up his arm and sees that every single hair is reaching straight up.

“Spidey sense. So cool.” Ned chuckles.

“Not cool. That means something is wrong, Ned.” Peter states as he begins to let his legs carry him to wherever feels right. Coincidentally, it’s in the direction Gwen just went.

As he rounds the corner, just as you and Gwen did minutes before, he spots the blonde girl standing in the doorway of the girls’ restroom. Before he can even get halfway to her, he watches as you make a beeline for the nearest exit of the school.

“I thought you said she was fine.” Peter says, strolling up next to Gwen.

“I thought you said I got this.” She quickly retorts, hoping he didn’t see your hands or eyes.

“Yeah, well look how that went.” He responds back.

He takes a few steps to walk after you, but comes to an instant halt. Peter turns on his heels and walks back up to Gwen.

“I’m sorry, that was sort of rude.” He apologizes sincerely. He looks back at the door you stormed out of and back at Gwen once more, “I’m just worried about her. Something is telling me to go check on her.”

He lightly jogs to the exit before Gwen can spit out another lie to protect you. Peter pushes the door open with determination, the cool wind breezing against his face. His head snaps left and right, looking for any sign of you.

A group of girls chatting.

Someone rushing through their homework.

A guy skating across campus.

“There she is.” Peter mumbles when he finally spots you.

He’s able to take one step before being yanked backwards by his backpack.

“Leaving so soon, Mr. Parker? It’s not even lunch yet.” He hears the voice of his principal.

“Uhh I have gym class next. I was just going to get a head start on my mile.” Peter lies through his teeth with a sheepish grin.

He might be good at fighting crime and protecting his neighborhood, but if there’s one thing Peter can’t do to save his life, it’s lie.

The principal obviously saw right through him and chuckled dryly. With a firm grip still on his backpack, Peter gets walked back into the hallways of his school. His principal even takes it upon himself to watch the young boy walk into his next class, earning laughs and taunts from Mj.

- - - - -

It was only a few minutes into physics whenever Peter’s senses started sounding off alarms in his head again. His eyes scan the classroom, every student with their heads down and focused on their work. He glances at the teacher, who is steadily typing away at her laptop.

“Psst. Ned!”

Ned, who is sitting directly in front of him, turns around, surely prepared to make some outlandish comment. However, upon seeing the worry on his friend’s face, he decides against it.

“Spidey sense?” Ned asks simply.

Peter frantically nods his head, “I’m almost positive it’s Y/n. It feels different. It feels the same way it did whenever I thought she was being followed.”

He takes one more anxious glance around the classroom to make sure none of his classmates were eavesdropping.

“I need you to create a distraction.”

Ned gives him a single nod before swiveling his seat back to its prior position. He obnoxiously clears his throat, “Uh ma’am, I think there’s a mistake on this paper. Here let me show you.” He rises from his seat and as soon as he does, everyone hears a mysterious low rumble.

Peter and Ned make eye contact, knowing that it’s already too late. Whatever Peter was being warned about is already happening. Without a single notice, the entire school is shook by a harsh vibration.

Boom

The students begin to talk amongst themselves worriedly before another vibration strikes. Panicked yelps scattering all around the classroom.

Boom

“Everyone stay calm. There’s no need to get worked up.” The teacher attempts to calm the students, despite sounding panicked herself.

If every fiber in Peter wasn’t going haywire already, there’s no doubt that they are now. It’s almost like he can felt the movements before they happen. He flies out of his chair and peers out the window.

He’s not sure if what he’s witnessing can be seen by everyone or if it’s just his heightened senses. “What the hell is that?” He mumbles to himself.

Peter watches as a violent ray of purple aura heads straight for them, everything in its way viciously convulsing. His heart rate quickens as he turns to face his classmates.

“Everybody get down!” He shouts, the people surrounding him do not waste a second to fling themselves onto the floor.

Peter grabs a hold of Ned and together they hit the deck just in time.

Boom!

A purple wave is washed over them, shattering the large windows in the process. Glass flies everywhere as the terrified shrieks of each individual fills the air.

The wave left just as quick as it came. Peter and Ned are the firsts to pop up from the ground, breathing heavily with shaky limbs. They look out of the broken window and are absolutely astonished by the amount of destruction that was caused in such little time.

“Still think it’s Y/n?” Ned chuckles in amazement.

Peter doesn’t answer because at this point he doesn’t know what to think. He definitely doesn’t want to rule it out. Whether it was you or not, he can only hope that you’re okay...wherever you are.

“Okay ladies and gentlemen, we need to evacuate now! Get on your feet and start calling your parents, we need to move!” The teacher instructs.

Everyone hurriedly follows in pursuit.

- - - - -

You let out a groan as you slowly pick yourself up from the floor of the dirty alleyway. Aside from being a little lightheaded and having a slight sharp pain on your side, you’re feeling 100 times better.

You dust yourself off, taking another look around as you do so.

Okay. Maybe that stone isn’t amethyst after all. You admit to yourself.

A dry cough erupts from your throat as you begin to walk to... well you don’t know where you’re going. You don’t want to go home yet, just in case an episode like this happens again. You wouldn’t want to put Alice in danger.

Just as you exit the dimly lit backstreet, an old man with thinning white hair and a white mustache to match it speed walks over to you.

“It’s the damn aliens!” He shouts as he whips out a tinfoil hat.

Where did he get that from??

“It’s the aliens, I say! They’ve finally arrived!” The man continues to yell as he carries on.

He wasn’t the only one in a frenzy. Everyone roamed the streets talking to one another. Theorizing what great threat they think has struck New York now, complaining about their vehicles, using some pretty strong language.

The pit of anxiety residing in your stomach quickly turns to guilt. You’re fully aware that you couldn’t control your actions, but it doesn’t change the fact that you still caused all of this damage. The further you walk, the guiltier you begin to feel.

How far did it reach?

You thought you only affected a block or two at most, but now you are starting to believe you victimized the entire city.

“Kid!” You hear a familiar voice.

You snap your head to the left and see a black vehicle with tinted windows. In the backseat sits none other than Tony Stark.

“You are in huge trouble. Amethyst crystal my ass.” He scolds.

The door pops open, “Get in.”

Not having the energy to argue back, you slide yourself into the car.

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” you clarify.

“Well I sure hope not. Happy, to the tower.”

The drive wasn’t long, only about 20 minutes, but the silence made it feel like hours. You’ve tried apologizing multiple times, but every single time you were dismissed by the lift of a hand.

Once in the tower, you didn’t even have time to look around in wonder at all the high tech features of the place. You were put in a room with Tony sitting directly in front of you. His eyebrows are furrowed, eyes focused on you, and his leg is bouncing so fast he could drill a hole in the ground. He still has yet to speak a single word.

You open your mouth to say something, but your phone begins to vibrate. Instead of answering, you freeze, not wanting to make Stark even more upset, if that’s possible. You also don’t want to see all the angry texts from Aunt Alice.

“You gonna get that?” Tony questions.

“Oh, he speaks.” You attempt to make a joke, but you’re the only one laughing.

Your smile falters as you take your phone out of your pocket to see who’s calling. Peter.

The smile returns once you lay eyes on the goofy contact picture he took on your phone. As much as you want to answer, you figured it would be better to wait for another time. It would be sort of hard to explain everything. Especially while Tony is shooting daggers into your head.

You take a swift scroll through your texts.

Gwen: That was so cool and kinda scary at the same time! Was that you??

Peter: Hey! Don’t mean to bother, I just wanna check up on you. Sorry I say that a lot haha.

Peter: Text me back when you’re feeling better. I hope you’re okay!

Alice: Y/n, you NEED to call me back. NOW!

Alice: You’re not in trouble, I just need to know if you’re safe.

Peter: I also want to say thank you for standing up to Flash for me. Even though I totally could’ve taken him myself! Okay okay, sorry for triple texting!

You send Alice a simple message back just to ease her nerves and not ground you before locking your phone.

You look up to see Tony still staring at you quite intensely. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve sworn he hasn’t blinked yet. You clear your throat.

“Look, Mr. Stark, I really didn’t mean for-“

He cuts you off, “No no no, it doesn’t matter if you meant it or not. That’s not going to reverse what you just did!”

His tone of voice makes your heart shudder, the guilt you were feeling from earlier returning. You decide not to talk again unless he tells you to.

Stark runs a hand through his hair in frustration before cradling his left hand as he pushes himself out of his seat.

“I know you couldn’t control it.” His tone is softer now. “It’s not fair for me to take my anger out on you, I’m sorry.”

You still don’t dare to say another word. He sighs and walks over to the window that has a perfect view of the city.

“I’m not really angry. I’m just...scared.” Tony admits.

This is not the man you’ve been seeing all over the news for years. Tony Stark has never been one to be so vulnerable and open about his feelings. Or anything for that matter. You sure as hell didn’t expect a superhero to ever get scared, much less admit it to someone he barely met yesterday.

“Scared of what?” You ask quietly.

He turns and makes eye contact with you once again, but this time you don’t feel like he’s ready to attack. There’s a beat of contemplation coming from him before he says, “The little outburst you had might’ve sent a signal to a really bad guy. A really bad, really powerful guy. His intentions aren’t the best, and it won’t be long until he comes here.”

You blink a couple of times trying to process what he’s telling you. If an avenger is this scared of some “guy”, then you really have a situation on your hands.

“He’s coming for me?” You squeak.

Tony returns to his seat in front of you, “Not technically. But he will be coming for the stone that you have locked away in a desk drawer.”

“So if I’m in the way...”

“He won’t be afraid to move you.” Stark affirms.

You sink down in your chair, taking it all in. How has your life completely flipped upside in just two days. Two days! Just as you might finally get a chance with Peter after crushing on him for so long, you possibly just devastated the entire city. Maybe the entire country. Maybe the planet. You don’t really know how bad it is, but you feel too sick to your stomach to bother asking.

“How long until this dude gets here.” You ask.

Tony snorts at your usage of the word “dude” when describing someone who has destroyed multiple planets, but of course, you don’t know that yet.

“Our very own time telling wizard gives us about a week. A week and a half, if we’re lucky.” He answers.

“Great.” You sigh as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

You take a look at Tony, who sends you a sympathetic smile. You return a defeated one, tears burning at the corner of your eyes.

“We’re not going down without a fight, kid. That’s the one thing I can promise you.” He says sincerely, trying to make you feel better.

Although you appreciate the sentiment, you don’t respond in fear that the lump in your throat will make your voice crack. Instead you change the subject.

“Why do you keep nursing your arm like it’s a defenseless baby goat?” You ask, earning a hearty laugh from the man in front of you.

“Well after 10 years of being one of earth’s mightiest heroes, you’re gonna walk away with some battle scars.” Tony explains.

You let out a light chuckle, almost forgetting exactly who you’re talking to. With a smirk on your face, you stand on your feet and walk towards him, “May I?”

He scoffs and gives you a strange look, but nonetheless, offers his hand. You take it with both of yours and close your eyes. It isn’t long until you feel the warmth of your energy flowing through your veins and to your palms. Tony watches in amazement as his hand is engulfed by the same sensation that shook the city just hours ago.

You finally let go and open your eyes just in time to see the dumbfounded look on his face. He closes his hand into a fist, and then opens it as he wiggles his fingers around.

“Who’s the happy fingers now?” You tease. “I can’t heal 10 years of injury after injury in one sitting, but it should feel a little better now.”

Tony is still shocked beyond belief. All he can do is let out small breathy chuckles and stare at this hand that’s nearly good as new.

“Y/n.” He manages to say.

You’re shocked to hear him say your actual name. Weirded out even.

Stark finally puts down his hand and gives you a look of astonishment.

“How would you like to be an avenger?”

Your eyes widen and your jaw drops. Tony Stark, aka IRONMAN, wants you to be an avenger. After you’ve wrecked miles and miles of property, he’s asking you to be an avenger?!

“What? I mean...w-what?!” You let out an incredulous laugh. “You want me to- even after every- I can’t..I-I..” All you can do is stammer.

“Well don’t say yes too quick” Stark rolls his eyes.

“Sorry, I’m sorry! It’s just that I didn’t even know the avengers were a thing anymore. I also don’t know the first thing about being a superhero. All I do is heal tiny animals and cure hangovers.” You ramble.

Tony stands whiles still wiggling his hand around, enjoying the extra mobility it suddenly has. “And if you can do what you did today in a more controlled manner, you’ll be unstoppable. A bit of combat training wouldn’t hurt either.”

You think it over in your head. What he’s saying makes a lot of sense. You still don’t know what happened to you today, and you’d love nothing more than to figure it out. Tony is the perfect person to help with that.

Being an avenger is a lot of pressure though. Only a week and a half to train and fight some “really bad, really powerful guy”? It’s impossible. You’d be way over your head. You would get yourself killed.

“I know it’s a lot to take in.” Stark saying, practically reading your mind. “But I believe you can do it, and I’m never wrong. Scratch Saturday, you’re coming in tomorrow for immediate testing and training. Expect to be here all day.” He orders, returning back to his assertive persona.

All day tomorrow?

“I actually can’t tomorrow, Mr. Stark sir.” You say a little under your breath.

“You what now?” Tony stops in his tracks.

“I-I can’t come tomorrow. I’m going to a party, I sorta have a date.” You explain, getting quieter and quieter after hearing how pathetic you sound.

It’s his turn to laugh incredulously, “Yeah, sweet cheeks, and the world is sorta in immortal danger. I’ll let Happy know he needs to take you home and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You don’t bother trying to protest or be a smart ass because he makes a very valid point. “See you tomorrow.” you say, mostly to yourself.

- - - - -

Three knocks echo from your bedroom door as you sit at your desk doing some chemistry homework.

“Hey hun! I brought oranges slices.” Your Aunt Alice shuffles past the doorframe. As she comes closer, the brightest smile on her face, You notice she made a smiley face on the plate full of poorly cut oranges.

You let out a giggle and set down your pencil, “Thank you Ali, they look great!” You begin to eat the juicy treat while Alice takes in the atmosphere of your room.

“Those weird earthquakes were crazy today, huh?” She absentmindedly makes conversation.

“Earthquakes. Right. Yeah it was crazy. They really shook me at the core.” You say sarcastically, soaking in the irony.

Alice only hums in response. You watch her eyes dart from your trophies and then to the chair with clothes piled on it and then to the plants perched on your window until they finally land on the picture of her, your mom, and yourself.

It was your 11th birthday and you had cake smeared all across your face. The memory is so vivid, you can still hear the beautiful melody of your mother’s laugh dancing through the air. It’s the last picture you have of her.

“I miss her too.” You speak quietly, fearing if you spoke too loudly, the memory would go away.

Her gaze returns to you, tears brimming her eyes and her smile a little less bright. “You remind me of her so much, Y/n.” All you can offer her is a warm smile.

You’ve already cried all the tears you had left. You clear your throat, “Thanks again for the oranges, Ali.”

She wipes the tears that manage to break free before placing a quick kiss on the top of your head.

“Take out will be here soon.” She informs as she exits the room, her cheerful tone returning.

“Sounds good.” You respond.

You take one more glance at the picture of the three of you before getting back to work. However, like most things here lately, you didn’t get very far.

“Shoo, shoo! Stupid bird. I hate you!” You hear a muffled voice coming from outside. You wouldn’t have found this odd, if you weren’t on the fourth floor of an apartment complex.

You rush over to your window and peek outside, and much to your surprise you see just the person you needed to see. You snicker before unlocking your window and pushing it up.

“Peter, what are you doing up here?” You whisper.

“Oh, ya know, just...fighting some birds.” He chuckles weakly at being caught.

You smile wildly at the sound of his voice and the sight of him covered in feathers. You’re feeling too giddy to even question how he got up here. “Get in!” You move out of the way so he can crawl into your room.

Oh my god. Peter Parker is in my bedroom!

You hurry to shut the door, so Alice doesn’t see a boy in your room. You turn back around to see Peter stealthily make his way past your potted plants. He hops in with a soft grunt.

“Hi.” He says shyly once he finally looks at you.

“Hi.” You say back in the same tone.

Peter looks down at his hands, causing you to just notice he’s holding a plastic bag. “Um this is for you. You never answered my texts so I thought I should just...sneak by.”

You take the bag from him and sit on your bed, Peter copying your actions. Your breath hitches as your shoulders touch.

OH MY GOD!

You pull yourself together enough to take a look in the bag.

There are several things inside. Two chocolate bars, your favorite ice cream, a large bottle of water, a box of tissues, and a dvd of your favorite movie.

You look towards Peter with the softest smile to ever lie upon your lips.

“What’s all this for?” You nearly whisper, your heart aching at the gesture.

“Gwen mentioned that it was that time of the month for you, so I brought you some things. I asked her for your favorite snacks and stuff.” He explains as his face burns with a rosy tint.

You’re not on your period, so you just assume that Gwen covered for you earlier today. She could’ve come up with literally anything else because her lie is kind of embarrassing, but you’re not complaining at the moment.

After you don’t saying anything in response, Peter starts to ramble nervously. “I’ve seen this movie once, it’s pretty good! I don’t know if it’s Star Wars level good, but I’d recommend it to someone. Now that I think about it, I don’t know why I brought you a copy. If it’s your favorite movie, you probably already have it so that’s kinda stupid of me I guess. Did you know that-“

You could listen to this boy talk for hours and hours, but for now, you interrupt him with a tight hug. It takes him a second to process, his mind and his heart going just as crazy as yours. He recoups soon, wrapping his arms tightly around your lower back.

“Thank you, Peter. You really didn’t have to do this.”

“I just wanted to make your rough day a little better.”

And that, he did. More than he even knows. The two of you hug for a little while longer before pulling apart, your faces only inches away from each other.

You gulp as you look into his brown eyes. You’ve never seen them this close before. Chills are sent down Peter’s spine, but for a different reason this time. A better reason.

His eyes begin to flutter shut as he leans in and you mirror his movements.

It’s finally happening, and so fast too! Peter Parker is now literally in the palm of your hands. You try your best to maintain your excitement. Another uncontrollable episode is not what you need right now.

You can basically feel his lips on yours already. Your first kiss with Peter...

“Y/n! The food is here!”

...was too good to be true. Of course.

The sound of Alice’s voice makes you and Peter jolt to opposite ends of the bed. You run your hands over your face and let out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah Alice, I’ll be right there!”

The air becomes still as you and Peter look at everything in the room except for each other. He’s the first to speak up, “Well uh, I should let you go eat.” He rubs his hands on his legs.

“Yeah I probably shouldn’t keep my aunt waiting. She’s scary when she’s hangry.” You joke to lighten the mood.

You both share a small laugh before you walk Peter over to the window he’d just entered through.

“Thank you again for everything. You’re a really good friend.”

He doesn’t show it, but that word just stabbed him in the heart. Friend.

“Anything for you, Y/n/n. You should go, I don’t want you to see me climbing these walls.” Peter says truthfully, but plays it off as a joke.

You laugh along with him, “Call me if you hurt yourself. I have ways to fix ya up.” You say truthfully as well.

Neither of you catch on to the other’s honesty.

You give each other an endearing smile before parting way.

Once your back is turned, you whisper to yourself, “Friend? Why did I say that?”

Here’s one more thing to beat yourself up about all night long.

“Y/n, The food!” Alice yells, the hunger taking over.

“I’m coming!” You should in an equally frustrated tone, but because of a different type of hunger.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

Sorry it took a while to post this chapter!! I tried making it longer than the others to make up for it :)

Omgg my Tom fic, The “Friendship” Test is currently sitting at 800+ notes, that’s insane!! Thank you guys so much, I know I say that a lot but I truly mean it!

((excuse any typos, i write at night))

tag list 🏷 (lmk if i missed you or if you want to be added!)

@jackiehollanderr @crazylittlereader2474

@phantomhrt @sassystay-bunny @sltwins

@bigassnocash @pignolithecookie

@big-galaxy-chaos @lilyblackx @jjjmaybank

@peterandtom @meilikki

@the-avengers-assembling @voldyphobia

@lumiees @frostay

@lupinpetersclearwaterodairparker

@mikaofasgard @empath-bunny

@neoneun-nananeun-neo @themoonlightofari

#peter parker x reader #avengers x reader #peter parker x avengers!reader #bucky barnes #peter parker x stark!reader #bucky barnes x reader #tom holland x reader #peter parker #tom holland #sebastian stan #peter parker fic

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joannasteez · 4 years ago

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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍: 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: EZ Reyes x GradStudent!Reader

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: Dedicated to my fav @appropriate-writers-name because she deserves>

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Mature Themes.

Credits to the gif maker always @hvitserkk

Based on this post

Trying my hand at writing a headcanon... hopefully this isn’t long winded but if it is.... I don’t think that’s an issue right? The more EZ the better lol!

Also... thanks for 500 followers💋

☠︎

Nocturne No.1 in B Flat Minor rides on the air that flows around you like a whisper, the soft piano lead melody slipping over your ears in a delicate manner that calms the atmosphere of the room. It’s perfect music to write to.

But it doesn’t stop the cramping in your fingers, the ache dull because your muscles have gone numb and taut but you can’t stop writing, for God sakes as your mind runs and rambles you have to keep going or run the risk of losing your train of thought.

There are books and articles everywhere, scattered along the sheets in a manner that is dysfunctional to the point of perfection. The mess makes sense to you of course but it’s dysfunctional nevertheless, a tangible representation of the clutter your mind is in at the moment.

Whoever thought of Grad School as an idea can go to hell.

Who ever thought of 15 page papers can go to hell as well.

Just as the music breaks for a moment and a half, the intensity of the piano suspended for the tiniest second of eternity, and in that suspension of sound, your stomach grumbles obnoxiously. A ripple in your abdomen and a dryness on your tongue.

But what’s food when there’s work to be done right?

There’s a jangling sound at the door and for a second your fight or flight takes hold, reducing your flesh to goosebumps, your heart sinking at the possibility of someone attempting to break in..... and then you realize, if they have a key, then you’ve given it to them.

You know exactly who it is, heavy footed steps thumping against your floorboards.

“I gave you that key for emergencies”.

Ezekiel’s in the doorway of your room, a bag of something savory in his hands.

“It is an emergency if I haven’t seen or heard from you in three weeks”.

Your face scrunches, trying to recall where the time went... It hasn’t been that long has it? It couldn’t have been.

“Yes three weeks.... I counted”, he grumbles. Resting the food on your dresser and coming to the side of the bed.

He kisses you, lips chasing yours with a hunger that is unyielding, the build of his body nearly forcing yours to lay against the sheets, and it almost does, till a paper crinkles and you remember what you were doing. You push him away.

“I’m sorry baby but bad timing, I have to finish this”.

He huffs, neediness rising in him to such a point that it tingles all over his body. Not having you in ear or eye shot for three weeks was more torturous than he wanted to admit. He wanted to lay up under you, feel your kiss, hear your voice; the whispers, the whimpers, the moans, the laughs, the sweet rasp of it from the morning, the sultry form it took when he’d had you spread and ready for him, the sweet melody of it when you sang doing random things around the apartment. He just wanted to hear you, feel you, have your fingers delicately trace his chest in the relaxing way that you do at night. Fuck he missed you.

“You can’t take a break?”

Your eyes cut to him “No I can’t”.

“The papers probably not due till next month”, he accuses.

And he’s right, but your inspiration for this course hasn’t struck you the way it has now in months, all your thoughts and ideas need to be written now, and not burned to flames by the mood EZ is about stir up which you’ll no doubt fall into if you don’t put a stop to it before it starts. He’s got that way about him, it’s uncanny, but sneaky nonetheless.

He starts out with an innocent kiss to your lips, chasing and prying them open with his tongue, and in between these he’s whispering things that make you fall deeper into his little trap, that husky tone dripping into your ears and making your body pliant against the bed.

Something like, “I love your lips hermosa”, “they’re so soft”, “they feel so fucking good against mine”.

You moan in response, like a reflex, the functions of your body laden with the urge, the need to fulfill desire. Your mind can’t keep up and by the time it does he’s got you so far gone. Right where he wants you.

He’s a good trouble you can’t afford to indulge into right now.

EZ gets rid of his kutte and the t-shirt lying beneath.

Fuck! Ok maybe a little indulgence wouldn’t hurt.... right?

Your finger points at him in a way to warn him, “30 minutes, that’s it”.

“An hour”, he argues back. 30 min is BS and you it.

“Fine”.

He’s all cheesy now, rushing the papers and your laptop away neatly enough before he’s laying at your side, attacking your lips with a satisfied groan, the thick rugged feeling of his hands running over your thighs, purposely overwhelming himself with the feel of you to sate the teeming desire he feels but it isn’t working. He needs more. He’s lavishing your mouth with slick tongue kisses, those stocky fingers running warm strokes over the inside of your thighs, pinching and pulling the flesh as he nears the thin cover of your panties.

Three weeks out of action and away from him has you breathless, your body sensitive and fast to respond.

He’s at your ear now, tugging at the shell of it with sharp teeth. “I fucking missed you baby girl”.

You moan at the name, voice airy. “I missed you too”.

He’s got your legs wide in swift motions and with the pulling sensation of his eyes, he’s drawing you into him to be fully consumed. Your stuck in them, falling deeper and becoming less conscious of where you are. Anything that isn’t him no longer exist. You’re completely done for.

Has it been mentioned yet that Ezekiel is a tease?, a man with the ability to manipulate your nerve endings to such a degree that they are now permanently susceptible to his every whim? Well if not mentioned before, let this truth be known now as he demonstrates it, the loneness of his thumb giving your slick slit slow rubs once your underwear are out of the way. His lips twitching up to a sly grin as he watches you squirm.

He’ll deliver you to your release slowly first, present you to the highest peak of bliss with measured thrums of his thumb, the pad of it delivering lazy circles to the wet flesh of your clit. He’ll draw it out of you, root up those pretty, wispy sounds that he likes first because they make his heart swell with pride. Only he can have you like this, writhing against the sheets in delirium.

You roll your hips, desperate for friction, his eyes trialing to the slick pink of your opening. The lewd slip of his finger against you puts a sinful spark in his eye, tongue peaking out to wet his lip as he watches you drag your hips lazily. “Fuck that shit is pretty”, he groans, laying a little slap to you that has you gasping for air, your fingers rushing up under your shirt to pull at the hard peaks of your chest. When you respond with the deep grind of your hips he does it again, laying another teasing slap to your bundle nerves making you whimper. Your head falling against the pillows as your spine arches.

Your voice is ragged as it leaves. “Don’t tease Ezekiel, I can’t take it”.

His eyes go to your fast, and they’re dilated. Completely blown. “Yes you can. You take whatever I give you, you hear me?”

When you don’t answer right away, he gives your clit another slap, a little harder this time, and it has you answering in a quick succession of yes’s.

He delves a finger into you, curving the digit as it glides out, eyes peeled again to the way you’re taking in the tanned finger. The feel of you is constricting, desperate for him not to leave. When he reaches to add another you arch high off the bed, the hook of them reaching that deep place in you that makes the darkness behind your lids go all white and splotchy. He loves the response, he lives for it, for you. “That’s it mi amor, you’re squeezing my fingers so tight. My pretty girl is being so good for me yeah?”

“I’m always good for you”, you purr. Your hips grinding as he gives you hard hitting thrust.

He moans at your answer. Gearing up to add to your pleasure. “Can you take another finger mama? Can I give you another?”

You nearly sob. “Please”.

The fit is tight, a slight ache of pressure at the fullness but you’re floating now. Completely gone as he works you up to that blissful peak.

“Look at me”, he calls but you don’t hear him. Hips rolling on auto pilot.

With the idle hand he’s had laying at the side, he reaches to grab your face, placing a number of teasing and gentle wet kisses to your lips as those fingers stroke you deep. The juxtaposition is jarring to your body, something in your belly fluttering before it spreads through your skin.

You’re so close.

He’s holding your eyes with his again, giving your hairline soft sweet caresses as he stares into you deep, searching for your soul to claim as a personal possession and all the while those fingers are tormenting you with lewd thrust, the wetness of them making obscene noises that fly into the air, the impact of them causing tears to slip from your eyes to your cheeks. Your eyes are glassy as he fails to stop delivering you to that release, a new droplet falling when he guides his thumb back to that glistening nub.

“Oh my God”, you whimper. The knot in your belly threatening to burst.

As the tension builds the tears flow, your body overwhelmed to such an inexplicable degree, and all the while he maintains eye contact with you. Irrevocably enthralled in the way you’re responding to the things he’s doing to you. Your body loves him just as much as your heart does, responds to him just as much as your mind does. He’s got you delirious off his three fingers but you’ve got him wrapped around just one of yours.

“Come for me hermosa”, he rasped.

And you do, convulsing against the bed. His body beside yours, guiding you through the amazing mess of your release.

#mayans mc #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ezekiel reyes x reader #ez reyes x reader #ez reyes x black!reader #mayans headcanon #long headcanon #ezekiel reyes x black!reader #ez reyes x poc!reader #joannasteez

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kykyonthemoon · 3 years ago

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A Midsummer Night's Dream

A Childe/ Tartaglia x Lumine Fanfic

During The Summer Festival in Inazuma, Lumine encountered a kitsune-masked man. He was strange, yet so familiar. Who could he be?...

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

When Lumine and Paimon set foot in Inazuma, the weather was midsummer. In the sweltering air, the streets strewn with cherry blossoms became ever more bustling. The Summer Festival had arrived, with residents across Inazuma putting aside their daily worries to enjoy the best things summer had to offer.

Even travelers like Lumine and Paimon could not resist being invited to the festival. The lady from Kamisato house had asked Lumine and Paimon to accompany her, but something unexpected caused her to make another appointment. Determined not to miss the occasion, Lumine and Paimon agreed to take to the streets in new outfits that Ayaka had sent them.

Inazuma clothing is multi-layered and slightly harder to wear than previously worn by Lumine. In the summer, people do not wear too many layers due to the hot weather. As she put on the yukata, Lumine secretly admired its beauty: each needle line was very neat and beautiful, the outfit was pale yellow, dotted with cherry blossoms, especially it was not as hot as she had thought. There was also a hand fan made of bamboo and fabric of the same color as her yukata, which featured koi fish. Lumine remembered that Ayaka once told her about the types of fans, and this one was called “uchiwa,” and the koi pattern symbolized good luck.

“Traveler! You look beautiful!”

Lumine turned to her companion. Paimon wore the same patterned yukata as her, but it was pink and white. Her little friend looked more adorable than ever.

“I was thinking if my dress is a bit tight. If Paimon can’t eat anything tonight, I’ll be so angry at the Kamisato!”

Lumine burst into laughter.

The bustling city of Inazuma greeted them in the glorious sunset. On both sides of the road, colorful lanterns were lit. Everywhere was filled with different restaurants and stalls; flowers, prayer charms, masks, and decorations that extend all the way to Amakane Island. The most sold was, of course, food. Needless to say, Paimon loved to be here.

“Whoa! What a crowd!” Paimon remarked as they mingled with the group of walkers. “Don’t leave me behind, Traveler!”

However, it was Lumine who was left behind when Paimon was caught up in the roadside food stalls. The little companion flew up and then swooped down on literally every stall she saw, as they offered free tastings. A few minutes later, Lumine could not see Paimon anymore.

Lumine could not fly like Paimon. She had to squeeze through the stream of smiling and talking people to find her friend. Inazuma City is large, with small streets intertwined and connected to one another. After a long search, Lumine accepted the fact that she had lost Paimon.

Lumine sighed. It’s also unclear where she was on the map of Inazuma City. She wandered alone, looking at the streets and rolled her eyes to every corner to see if Paimon was somewhere around. Not paying attention to the path, she suddenly bumped into someone's back.

“Sorry… I’m sorry!” Lumine said, embarrassed.

In front of her was a white yukata patterned with light blue waves. Whoever she bumped into was much taller than her. Then, he turned around.

Lumine noticed that he was wearing a kitsune mask on his face. Although his face was unknown to her, his appearance was very familiar; tall and slim, with short, choppy orange hair, even his voice was like that person.

“Are you alright, Miss?”

Lumine was frozen for a moment.

"You're not hurt, are you? You should be careful in such a crowded place like this. I can’t bear to see a beautiful lady like you get hurt."

Lumine frowned. Even these teasing words were very similar to a person she knew.

"We've met before, haven't we?" She asked frankly. Lumine does not like to play the vague game.

The one in kitsune mask laughed out loud:

“Quite a bold young lady, aren’t you? Perhaps we’ve met, in my sweetest dreams.”

Lumine blushed. She was both embarrassed and a little angry. How dared a stranger make fun of her like that?

“If you’re not the person I know, then I’m sorry for bothering you.”

Saying so, Lumine was about to leave, but the man stopped her.

"Wait. I'm sorry I teased you. But you look a little lost, Miss. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

Lumine weighed in on it a bit. She really needed to find Paimon and get back to the inn. Yet was this stranger trustworthy?

“Are you a local?” Lumine asked.

"No. I'm an outsider, just like you. The only difference is that I've been here for a while. I have some personal business here."

If it's a private matter, it's best not to ask. Lumine thought so. She hesitated for a moment and replied:

"I'm actually looking for my friends. I’ve just lost her."

"Then you've met the right person. I know every corner around here."

Seeing that Lumine did not believe him, the man said, "Come on, don't look at me like that! I just want to help a far-away traveler. That’s all."

"All right." Lumine replied. "But if you ask for mora, I don't have much..."

The masked man looked at her for a moment and then laughed so loudly that passers-by stared at them.

"Haha! Miss, you're funny! Why do you think my kindness needs to be reciprocated?"

Lumine paused for a moment. Her days of adventure from Mondstadt to Liyue, and now Inazuma, helped her come to terms with one thing: everything has a price. In other words, you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours.

"Well... I'm sorry I didn't think right about you..." Lumine replied.

"Then, would you accept my help?"

Lumine nodded and said nothing more, but she thought that she would definitely repay today's favor.

They walked through the crowded streets. The masked man told Lumine about Inazuma and about the culture here. It helped widening her perspectives. If she hadn't bothered to look for Paimon, she would have enjoyed the whole atmosphere.

But there's no denying that everything at the Summer Festival was so special and distracted her over and over again. She came across a mask stall by the side of the road and turned to look at the person next to her.

"Do you want to buy a mask too, Miss?" He asked.

"Not really... I'm just thinking your mask is more beautiful and elaborate than what they sell."

The masked man adjusted his mask a little. Lumine saw him laughing.

"Of course. This is something I painted myself! If you want, I'll paint a same one for you."

Lumine waved her hand. “No, there's no need…” she said, but he pulled her into a nearby stall and asked the owner about the masks which customers could paint themselves.

Lumine watched intently as he painted the mask with red, black lines, and yellow dots. Moments later, he gave it to her.

"Here. For you."

Lumine picked up the mask, examining it with amusement.

"Thank you."

"Let me put it on for you."

Lumine looked up at him sheepishly.

"I... I can wear it myself."

Seemingly unable to hear her say anything, he took the mask and put it on one side of her hair.

"T-Thank you..." Lumine said, gazing down at her feet.

The man smiled.

"Hey, I don't even know your name." Lumine said as they continued to go.

"Call me Mr. Kitsune. The kids in Inazuma call me that." He replied and waved to a group of children in the distance.

He seemed to be very loved by children. Lumine thinks that any person who is liked by children cannot be evil by nature. Suddenly she thought of someone she knew. Could it be...? But how could a Harbinger like him be here? She looked around. There's no sight of the Fatui nearby. Was it all just her imagination?

The two walked into a smaller yet not less crowded street. Immediately, Lumine’s attention was caught by a crowd playing a very interesting game. They gathered next to a large pot of water, inside there were many goldfish. Each person held a seemingly fragile racket made out of paper, and tried to get the fish into their little bucket as much as possible during a specific amount of time.

"Do you want to try it?" Mr. Kitsune asked after seeing Lumine’s interest in the game for a long time.

Lumine nodded.

Mr. Kitsune said something to the woman who appeared to be the owner there, and she handed them two rackets and two small buckets.

In excitement, Lumine sat down and Mr. Kitsune sat next to her. Picking up turned out to be much more difficult than it seemed. The racket was flat and very easy to tear, and the dodgy fish seemed to have learned to avoid players and irritate them, skillfully.

Lumine's racket was torn shortly after she thought she had picked up the first fish. She looked to the side. Mr. Kitsune gave her a new one.

"Thank you." Lumine responded and the excitement returned. There's no way she’s going to lose to these goldfish!

After a hard fight, Lumine finally got her first fish. She eagerly turned to Mr. Kitsune to show it off, but then her face went sullen immediately when she saw his bucket full of fish. What was more obnoxious was that he reseted his head on one hand and caught the fish only with the other hand. His attitude of fish-picking was very relaxed, not as strenuous as Lumine's at all.

"How did you get so many fish?" She asked.

"Oh... I don't know. Perhaps it’s my talent?"

He had just finished speaking when another fish fell into his bucket. Lumine gave up and dropped her racket into the bucket. She sat and watched him pick up the fish. From time to time, she pointed to the fish she wanted him to catch.

“This one! It has nice color.”

"You do know that we have to return the fish after the game, right?" He laughed and moved his hand to pick up the fish Lumine wanted.

After the time was up, Mr. Kitsune got the highest prize: a stuffed fox. He gave it to Lumine.

"It does look like you." Lumine looked at the fox in her hands and commented as the two left. It has a soft orange fur, a white belly and four black legs.

"Then every time you see it, you will think of me."

He replied without a hint of shame. But Lumine was blushing like a red tomato. Seemingly aware of her intention to return the fox, he said:

"In Inazuma, it is considered disrespectful to return the given gifts.”

Lumine pinched the fox's nose with a force. She thought about turning it into a sandbag for Paimon to practice her fighting skills, but then it was also too cute for that.

After coming to the end of the street, Lumine realized they had reached the gate of Inazuma. The outside of the city was as bustling as the inside, but the air was fresh and pleasant thanks to the sea. The moon was high, and Paimon was still nowhere to be seen.

Looking around for a moment, Mr. Kitsune said:

"Maybe your friend has gone to Amakane Island. It is the best place to watch the fireworks. Besides, there is also a well-known street stall selling delicious oden.”

Perhaps Paimon would not go there to see the fireworks, but for the food, yes. Lumine agreed to join Mr. Kitsune on the walk to Amakane Island to find her friend. They walked a long way across the coast. Along the way, Lumine noticed that the people of Inazuma City were also heading to the island as they were mostly hands-to-hand couples with smiles. There were butterflies inside her stomach when she thought that walking side by side with Mr. Kitsune like this made them look like a couple.

"Tell me about your friend." Mr. Kitsune suddenly spoke up. "The one whom you thought I was."

Lumine mused. "I don't know if we're friends anymore..."

"What's wrong? Did he do something bad?"

"It could be put that way." Lumine recalled the mess that the Eleventh Harbinger of Fatui – Tartaglia had made in Liyue. Worse than that, he had taken advantage of her trust, leaving her caught up in a dispute between forces like a puppet. Even though everything had been resolved, she still could not let it go easily.

"If he's a bad guy, you should beat him to death and never speak to him again."

Those words made Lumine laugh.

"I do want to beat him up. But..." She paused for a moment and then continued. "There’s also a good side of him that changes my opinions on him. I wonder what his true face is."

They walked a little further. The sound of waves was caught in her ears. Lumine saw some crabs digging the sand and hiding from people in the distance.

"Everyone has their own masks to wear, Miss." Mr. Kitsune said. "One day, I hope he'll have the courage to take his mask off in front of you."

Lumine gazed up at the man wearing the fox mask next to her for a moment. Wasn’t he hiding his face from her too? What's that fox mask hiding that she didn’t know yet? But everyone has secrets, and Lumine is not much of a pryer.

As soon as they arrived at Amakane Island, Lumine’s nose was immediately attacked by the aroma of food emanating from street vendors. Perhaps she was really hungry after the hopeless search for Paimon, and a long walk to this place. Now Lumine just wanted to sit down and eat all the food that the people here had to offer.

Mr. Kitsune led Lumine to an oden stall. They were seated right in front of the counter and the smoke and aroma emanating from the kitchen in front of them made Lumine's stomach rumble louder than ever. There was no need to wait long, their food was served soon after. Lumine's bowl had a variety of food: fish balls, boiled eggs, fried tofu, radishes and even noodles. She happily picked up her chopsticks and grab the food, but then realized that Mr. Kitsune was still sitting and looking at his oden bowl in a rather contemplative way.

"Aren’t you going to eat?" Lumine asked.

"Ah..." Mr. Kitsune seemed confused. He picked up his bamboo chopsticks awkwardly.

That person doesn't even know how to hold a chopstick too... Lumine brushed that thought away as soon as it appeared. She should have let go of the obsession which was him for a long time. Somehow, in all the places she went and the people she met, Lumine was looking for such a familiar silhouette in the past.

"Here, let me show you." Lumine reached out her chopsticks to Mr. Kitsune and demonstrated how to hold them little by little. There were moments when their hands touched and Lumine found herself blushing more than necessary.

"You're so good!" Mr. Kitsune's remarks made Lumine's cheeks flush to the ears.

"Well... It's just a normal skill..." She replied, recalling her days at Liyue, when she had practiced holding chopsticks skillfully to pick up food before Paimon ate it all.

Lumine ate her oden and praised the chef's talent. She also kept her eyes on Mr. Kitsune. He merely lifted the mask a little to eat, and the place they sat was not bright enough for Lumine to see his face clearly.

After the oden, Lumine was once again invited by Mr. Kitsune to a tri-color dango treat. Realizing that she was being treated too much, she offered to pay for some octopus balls called takoyaki which later on she had quite a memory with it. It's a dish of spherical scones made of flour, with chopped octopus fillings and some other ingredients inside, then fried in a special pan that has a lot of semicircular concave parts. Lumine bought a square plate containing four takoyaki arranged neatly inside and she skewered one to her mouth.

“Wait!”

But It was too late for Mr. Kitsune, Lumine had put a whole round takoyaki in her mouth. She looked at him and wondered why he was leaning up as if he’s afraid her tongue was burnt. The food was cold enough to be eaten. But that's just what she thought.

When she bit into the crust and spilled the filling, Lumine knew why Mr. Kitsune had warned her. The filling was so hot that Lumine's tongue tip was on fire. She rushed a hand to her mouth, tears welling up. She tried to chew and swallow the food. Fortunately, it wasn't so hot to the point it actually burned her tongue.

Mr. Kitsune gave her a cool cup of tea. Lumine, after regaining her composure, noticed that he had been chuckled all along. She grimaced, took a sip of tea and said in a furious tone:

"You don't have to laugh at me like that."

Mr. Kitsune tried to suppress his laughter and replied, "Sorry... I've never seen anyone eating takoyaki in such a cute way."

Lumine's face was red, not knowing whether it was the food being too hot or because she was embarrassed.

Nearby, there was a place filled with tiny hexagonal wooden cards. Mr. Kitsune said Lumine could write her prayers on the card and hang it up. She took one and wrote her wish, hoping that she would soon be reunited with her twin brother. Mr. Kitsune just stood beside her, his eyes were looking away.

"You don’t have a prayer?"

"I don't need it." He replied. "My wish has already come true tonight."

Lumine wondered what his wish was, but she doubt that a mysterious man like him would let her know too much about himself.

They still could not find Paimon. Mr. Kitsune said that having gone to this place, at least they should see the fireworks. So Lumine and he climbed the moss-covered stone steps filled with weeds, through the red torii gates that had faded over the years. The whole road felt as the entrance to a wonderland with fireflies and magical forests.

There were also a few others walking up to the fireworks watching location. One of them accidentally bumped into Lumine causing her to slip. She thought she was going to fall, but Lumine was saved. She found herself in Mr. Kitsune's arm and her head on his shoulder. He stood just one step behind her. And then, Lumine caught his blue eyes.

They’re the same like someone’s…

Embarrassed, Lumine stood up. "T-Thank you..." She said, turning her face away.

Lumine was not used to walking on Inazuma wooden slippers. She blamed on them just to avoid thinking about the real cause of her confusion. Mr. Kitsune suddenly stood closer by her and said:

"Hold on to my hand, you won't fall again."

He did not look at Lumine but his hand was reaching out in front of her. Lumine hesitated but held on to it at last. They walked slowly up all the stone steps, to a cherry tree and sat down on a large rock, just in time for the very first fireworks to break out.

The night sky was lit up and there was a loud explosion. Colorful fireworks flew into the sky, then dissolved into hundreds of small rays of light. Lumine watched and admired their beauty. It was truly an ideal place to watch fireworks shoot from Inazuma City. Lumine turned to the man who brought her here.

"Though I can't find my friend, I'm happy that I’ve had a chance to enjoy the festival and watch the fireworks with you."

Mr. Kitsune seemed surprised and delighted.

"It is my honor to accompany you, Miss."

Lumine felt her cheeks burning up again. Perhaps all along the way, she had already known who the man in the kitsune mask really was.

"I hope that we'll see each other again soon."

* *

It was late at night. There was no more fireworks or laughter. Yet there was still a shadow of the person sitting under the cherry tree, even when the girl with him had already left for a while.

Next to him was a crimson mask, which seemed to exude a kind of dangerous and tempting power. But all his attention was on the harmless kitsune mask in his hand. All that happened tonight felt like a dream. Having known the Traveler had come to Inazuma, he still did not expect that she had found him herself, bumping into him among so many people on the street.

He had always wanted to see her again, ever since their farewell in Liyue. He constantly talked about her in letters to his family, as if they were very close friends; perhaps more than friends?

What could he expect, when fate always puts them on different sides of the battle? He fought for what he believes, and she always chose to help those who oppose him. But deep down in him was the desire to see her again, to see her smile at him once more. He wanted to touch her, but feared she would disappear like fireflies.

Therefore, having a walk with her, eating together and watching the fireworks next to her; everything happened tonight was a beautiful dream in the middle of the summer night. Delightful and sweet, yet came and fade away too quickly. After all, at least he knew she still remembered him.

If only she didn't. That way, she would not have to be upset when they meet again, maybe in another battle here in this land. She had hoped that they would see each other again soon, but he'd rather she not knew who was with her tonight.

Tartaglia put down the kitsune mask and picked up his Harbinger mask. He turned his gaze to the sky, praying silently that the stars would remember today for eternity. Then he put on the heavy mask and left.

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

Au's note: It's been a while since my last Genshin fic. Hope you guys enjoy this one. I really love Japanese festivals in summer and this piece was inspired by those, and with the in-game activities/ atmosphere too of course!

My Genshin Masterlist: x

#uwu sorry for my rusty writing skills #genshin impact #fanfic #chilumi #childe x lumine #tartaglia x lumine #lumine #childe #tartaglia #genshin impact fanfic #fanfiction

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weirdochick56 · 4 years ago

Text

The Bodyguard 2- Bucky Barnes AU

Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, insults, snark, and sassy!Buckster sexy times (ok, so maybe only slightly sexy)

Disclaimers: I don’t own any MCU plots or Characters mentioned

Word Count: 5, 173 words

Summary: The Reader and Bucky’s hate for eachother is at an all time high; she can’t seem to rid herself of him and he, well he can’t seem to get her to cooperate with him. But as their frustrations grow, a late-night outing might just be what they both need to see other parts of eachother.

A/n: This has been a long time in the making, but I finally felt inspired enough to continue the story. Hope you enjoy it!

~The Bodyguard 1~

***

“You can stop following me now,” you grumble with thorny irritation, rolling your eyes at the tall persistent shadow staying hot on your tail.

It was in vain to ask him to leave, you knew. Agent Brainless was ridiculously adamant about following you around the moment you stepped foot outside of the palace and he was -infuriatingly so- a stubborn man.

How he knew that you were leaving even when you had concocted what you considered a genius plan to evade those infuriatingly pretty grey irises was beyond you.

He sighs at your words, and you can see the annoyance bubbling to the surface of his cold professional exterior, though he tries his hardest to keep a straight face.

“Your highness, I think we both know I won’t do that,” he responds simply. “Now if you would please stop being so stubborn and simply do as I ask and come with me to the car so that this is easier for us both...”

You can tell his patience is wearing thin because, in the past few weeks of having him follow you everywhere you went, you had made it a point to figure out his exact breaking point.

And as you continue making your escape to town like he isn’t even there, you know that so is yours. If there’s anything that can give you that deep burning satisfaction you sought with everything you did, it was pissing Agent Barnes off.

He had patiently asked you to retreat back the way you came so he could “safely” transport you in a castle-owned car, but you refused redundantly because your friend was already waiting for you, but maybe also because you loved the little twitch of his eye every time you refused to listen to his directions.

If you were being completely honest, he really should’ve been asking you to come back to the castle and not go to a club in town at all- as per your father’s orders. But you weren’t fond of said orders and you definitely didn’t want some dark and mysterious shadow following you around during a night of fun with friends.

“No,” is all you say because in the few minutes you’ve spent talking to him you’ve noticed he’s the most infuriated when your responses are curt and nonchalant.

You want to see him snap oh so bad...seeing those steely grays lose their cool? Gold.

“Princess...” he growls in warning, daring you to cut that little thread of control he had left in him with your sharp tongue.

You don’t look back at him even once enjoying the thrill that travels up your spine at his low-timbre words and the way his voice travels straight to your core, tugging at your short black dress lightly.

You wanted to see what he would do should he be pushed over the edge. It was fun.

“I already told you, I’m not listening to you. My friend is already waiting for me. And I’m sorry if you have an issue with- Ahh!” Your words choke back into your throat and morph into a shocked yelp when big rough hands grip your hips, spinning you around and without much of a warning, lifting you with incredible ease.

Before you know it, you’re being carelessly thrown over a broad, strong shoulder.

You let out a small ‘oomph’ when the wind gets knocked out of you and all you see is a firm ass, the blood rushing to your head.

“What the hell do your think you’re doing you absolute buffoon?!” You screech hysterically, wriggling aggressively against his hold on your thighs.

He barely flinches, only wrapping his muscular arm tighter around your legs and adjusting you on his shoulder like it was a mere midnight stroll for him and you weighed no more than what a feather did.

“I’m taking you to the car,” he informs as if it’s obvious, voice full with obnoxious satisfaction.

“Get your filthy hands off me this instant you utter and complete idiot!” You growl, twisting harshly but he doesn’t let go so you start pounding on his firm back with your fists, fighting to free yourself of him. “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!”

He just laughs at what seems to be your weak attempts to break away. He laughs.

You gasp at the absolute and complete audacity he has of laughing when he’s treating you, the single heir to the Androvian throne, like a sack of potatoes.

“You ass!” You wriggle around some more, tugging at his hands to try to pry them off your legs but all he does is smack them away as if they were mere pesky flies.

“I may be,” he chokes back a small snort but only barely. “But at least I’m the only ass trying to keep your reckless self in check, princess.”

Indignation, humiliation, and utter vexation all burn deep inside you like a thrumming fire ready to ravage everything in its way when it got the chance to escape your body as you slowly fall limp against him.

Resignation comes hand in hand with the deep desire for revenge and you fist your hands in deep ache to somehow exercise it.

He carries you all the way to the garage of cars in the back part of the castle, walks over to a black SUV out of all the expensive cars to choose from, opens it and all but throws you into the back leather seats like you’re not a fucking human, much less the princess of the land he’s currently stepping in.

You land flat on your back in the smooth leather interior of the luxury SUV with a small thud and instantly sit up to glare at him heatedly. “Do you have any idea who I am? Be gentle, you brute!”

Annoyingly enough, he simply ignores you and leans over your body. His heat floods through your bare skin and feels good for a second and you subtly inhale his musky scent as he tugs on the seatbelt, roughly pulling it over you.

You forget about your hatred for him for a split second and that only makes you angrier when it comes back full force.

You fucking idiot, Y/n.

In a last and desperate attempt of defiance, you try to push his hands away to which he responds by firmly pressing you back by your shoulder into your seat and staring you dead in the eye with blazing grey eyes.

The fire that swirls in them is...something. Not necessarily scary, but intimidating and...something else.

Something that makes your skin flush and your nerves throb to life.

You stare right back, tilting your chin up to show him you weren’t backing down or scared of him and his brute force. He got too under your skin and you knew you got under his which only offered you only a limited amount of comfort.

He clenches his jaw as he clicks the seatbelt into place, never looking away from your challenging gaze. As if to stick another dagger into your burning insides. As if to reassert his power here.

Your labored breaths are all that can be heard for miles to come in the calm night air and he leans close for a second, your heaving chests gently brushing.

Not meaning for it to happen, you feel your nipples harden beneath the flimsy fabric of your black party dress and you wonder if you imagine his hands clenching around your shoulder -his fingers digging into your flesh with suppression- or the sly flick of his eyes from your eyes to your lips.

You wonder if you imagine the look of heat that passes over his eyes when your breaths mix the second time seems to stop and an overwhelming emotion washes over you.

But then it’s gone as soon as it came and hatred burns deep in your belly once more. So deep that it hurts and brings painful tears to your eyes, your nose burning so hard you can’t focus through your blurry vision.

You lean in closer, so close your nose is brushing just barely against his and pause for a second. A second of torture for him, a second of uncertainty, a second where his breath catches and his pupils dilate.

Then you speak, voice trembling with overwhelming anger.

“I have never,” you whisper, licking your lips. “Been treated with such disrespect.” You swallow hard, cheeks red with humiliation.

You see a flash of guilt in his eyes but it’s quickly replaced by his usual look of cool professionalism- not even anger anymore. Not even that.

And he leans right back into you, a wave of heat passing over both of you. “Then learn to listen next time. It’s for your safety.”

And just like that he’s drawing back, slamming the passenger door closed and climbing into the driver’s seat- leaving you cold and angry beyond reason.

A moment of tense silence passes before he releases a tiny sigh and breaks it by turning on the ignition.

“Where are we going?”

BUCKY’S POV

I watch her laugh at something one of her friends says from a dark corner of the club and it’s hard not to stare for reasons other than my duty being just that...to look after her.

The club was a luxurious one, with high ceilings, intricate designs and a VIP section where we were immediately escorted to.

Her Highness’s friends, a blonde guy and girl who had nodded at me in polite acknowledgment were already waiting for her there and I assumed that the few seconds when she had stopped her sulking and taken out her phone from her clutch were the seconds she was texting her friends to meet her there instead.

I would never admit it, but I enjoyed watching her cave. It was like taming a wild horse, even if momentarily.

Princess Y/n was a brat, plain and simple. Selfish, childish, and feisty as hell, I had never met anyone as completely and utterly vexing as her and to say these past few weeks had been hell would be an understatement.

If I wasn’t so good at my job, I would’ve lost her already. She threw me for a loop any chance she got, cutting corners and doing everything she could to avoid my protection.

As I stared at her with that pretty ass smile on her annoyingly beautiful face, it’s hard to imagine that that was the same person pushing every single one of my buttons just a few minutes before.

She actually looked relaxed and...nice?

God, she infuriated me in ways I had no idea I could be infuriated, discovered buttons I didn’t know I had and pushed them to the point I had to throw her over my damn shoulder like a sack of flour.

I was a professional, for God’s sake. Had always been one with every single one of the cases I was assigned, so why was she the one to get under my skin?

...And why did I enjoy having her perfectly round ass so close to my face? Why did I keep thinking about the defiance in those stupidly big eyes over and over like I....craved it?

I wondered to myself as I watched her take down a shot by the bar. She glanced at me over her shoulder, still smiling, but it quickly melted away when our gazes clashed and my own mood soured instantly.

I grimaced when she looked away as if I had burnt her with my eyes and quickly pulled my head out of the gutter.

The fact that she was utterly gorgeous didn’t change how annoying she was. Not to mention I was here on a job.

One I fully intended to complete, no matter how fucking difficult the client was.

The night moves on at a slow pace for me. The princess parties and I watch her like a hawk, making sure not to let her get too wild.

So far I had pried off five guys who were trying their luck with her. From what I’d read on her file and the extensive research I’d done online, her face wasn’t really well known.

She was always kept secret and would be until she was crowned queen of Androvia- some weird old belief or something- so not many people knew what she looked like.

Meaning, these guys probably didn’t know who they were trying to get all handsy with on the dance floor and would only assume was some rich daddy’s girl once my towering form appeared and nicely escorted them away.

For the most part nicely, anyway. Some I had to get a little rougher with.

I make sure to keep my eyes glued on her form, ignoring the way she moved her hips in that tiny black dress. It hugged her alluring curves like a glove and I swallowed hard as she grinded on her female friend, head thrown back and a free smile on her face.

“She is...beautiful, isn’t she?”

I calmly turn towards the voice as it hums out from beside me, turning to see the guy she came with. He takes a sip of his drink, smirking as his eyes remain on the way the princess waves her hands in the air to the beat of the song, sensually shaking her hips as if she was one with the sexy R&B song I had no idea the name of.

I clear my throat, remaining stock still in my bodyguard pose. “Sir, I”m only here to protect her Highness. I really don’t-”

“Oh don’t even try to hide it. She’s easily the most beautiful woman in this whole club.”

He takes my silence as confirmation, it seems, because he proceeds to speak on as if I’ve agreed.

“But it’s not just her physical appearance is it? It’s something else. Something...inside,” he whispers.

When I don’t respond, he continues bitterly. “I’m warning you; don’t fall for her. It’ll only bring you a world of pain, trust me.”

I catch the pain in his voice and stiffen. “I would never fall for one of my subjects, sir,” I assure him.

He laughs sourly. “Sure bud. You keep telling yourself that.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I insist, swallowing thickly as she laughs, beautiful smile wide and her laughter too melodious to be coming out of such a wretched little urchin.

“Well,” he coughs suddenly, clapping me in the shoulder. “I think I need another drink. Want one?”

I eye his hand which he slowly pries off and shake my head with a slightly clenched jaw.

“I’m on the job, sir,” I remain calm and professional despite the fact that all I wanted to do was break that hand for putting stupid thoughts in my head.

Because for a second there, as the bright club lights shun down on her, I could see what he talked about when he said there was something inside. In that smile, those eyes, that laugh...

But then she made eye contact with me and the feeling turned bitter so quick it’s a miracle I didn’t get whiplash.

She was a brat. Nothing more.

YOUR POV

Sometime late into the night, you had found myself fairly buzzed. Not enough to fall on your face, but enough that walking- well, stumbling over to Agent Asshole only seemed more and more attractive an action.

He glances at you with those eyes and you can’t help the anger the bubbles within you. “Do you plan on staring me down the entire night?”

“It’s my job,” is all he says.

You scowl fiercely at him. “I hate you,” you seethe.

He raises a dark brow but otherwise keeps that stoic expression on his face. “Do you want to leave, your Highness?”

His neutral tone and complete lack of reaction only angers you more and you shake your head furiously. “No, I don’t want to leave. I want you to leave though.”

He presses his lips firmly together. “I’m sorry-“

“No, you’re not.”

“Huh?” He cocks his side slightly to the side and you lean closer to him, craning your neck to look him in the eye.

“I said; you’re not sorry. If you were sorry, you WOULD LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” You feel your drunken emotions deep in your chest and without much effort, your voice quickly escalates.

He sighs heavily. “Okay, your highness, I think it’s time I take you back to the castle. C’mon,” he waves a hand toward the door.

You laugh at him coldly, shaking your head. “Who do you think you are, ordering me around? Know your place asshole, you are below me- never forget,” you growl snarkily, leaning right into his face.

You feel his breathing quicken against your cheeks the longer you defiantly smirk up at him, his calm eyes darkening.

You realized you enjoyed pushing him to the edge, that you craved this look on his face...

He smirks mockingly down at you, staring you down. “You can come willingly, your highness, or I can throw you over my shoulder like last time.” He leans straight into your ear, whispering hotly. “I’m sure you would rather not go through the embarrassment.”

You swallow thickly, your heart hammering against your chest and you’re not sure it’s from anger anymore. With disgust, you jerk away from him, glaring holes into his head.

“Let’s go.”

“You can go, Agent Obnoxious,” you mumble drunkenly, waving a dismissive hand at him as you stumble into your warm room, practically ripping off your heels.

You throw them somewhere in the corner of the large room, sighing with relief when you feel your bare feet touching the soft carpeted floor.

Your knees shake slightly and buckle and you end up tripping forward.

You land on the ground with a soft grunt and for some reason, laughter bubbles deep in your chest.

“Your Highness!”

A few seconds later, you feel strong warm hands wrapping around your body to heave you up. You place your hands on his strong arms for support and look up at Agent Barnes.

The laughter immediately dies on your lips when you see a beautiful concerned frown of engraved deep in his face. It looks so sincere and his arms are so strong...

Before you know what you’re doing, a small mumble is leaving your lips. “You...” you cut yourself off abruptly when his eyes meet yours.

His hands now rest lightly on your waist, and you’re so close you can smell him. His scent is deep and rich and manly, so unlike the scent of those rich assholes you were forced to mingle with on a daily basis.

And his hands, are strong and resilient. The callouses on them tells you that he’s worked his entire life. Those hands, the ones holding you right now, They’ve probably handled a gun, they’ve probably saved so many lives...

You bite your lip, thinking about the way those hands felt on the skin of your arm and how heavenly it would feel if it traveled all over.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as you crane up your neck to stare up at him.

He stares down at you, and even when your room is dark, the light of the moonlight that filters in from the huge window highlights the heavy tension in his gaze.

You’re both unmoving and you wonder if he enjoys touching you as much as you enjoy his touch.

He inhaled deeply, his eyes flickering to your lips and eyes and then back.

You want to ask him what he’s thinking. You want to tell him to just do it -to just kiss you because you wouldn’t dare push him away- not in this state, not when the alcohol and his scent and eyes were clogging every single sense and reason you had, but you’re afraid to break the spell of whatever this was.

So instead, you wait on abated breath, feeling like you’re both on the verge of something utterly earth-shattering, for him to move.

Finally, he speaks a few seconds later and it’s a quiet murmur. “Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

You ignore the sharp sting of his rejection when you were so clearly begging him to kiss you and step away from his touch as if he’s burnt you.

You turn around so he can’t see the hurt in your eyes. “You can go now Agent Brainless,” you say coldly over your shoulder, but you know it’s a lot softer than the other time.

Another second passes. “Princess..” he whispers.

You ignore his barely audible whisper and angrily begin undressing, tugging at the straps of your dress.

“What in the world do you think you’re doing?” He growls lowly as you begin to pull your dress down to your waist.

With a sarcastic smile, your turn towards him, your top half completely naked aside from your black lacy bra.

His gaze immediately falls on your half-naked chest, but aside from the small flicker in his eyes and gulp he takes, he gives no other indication of shock.

You raise a brow. “Are you going to watch me undress now too, Agent Barnes?” You ask mockingly.

His eyes find yours again and they’re darker than you’ve ever seen them. They send shivers through your whole body and you almost give into the urge to look away, but the anger and frustration within you don’t allow your gaze to waver.

“I’m not leaving until you’re safely in bed,” he husks, clearly trying his best to remain professional and cold as his icy stare bores into your eyes- purposefully looking away from your naked form.

You tilt your head up at him innocently, slowly sauntering closer to him. “Oh? Well in that case, do you mind helping me with the zipper of my dress? It’s stuck.”

You turn your back on him and a smirk blossoms in your face as you hear his breathing strain, your ass slightly brushing against his crotch area.

He blows out a shaky exhale and it blows against your naked back, all hot and angry.

When he makes no move to help you, you look at him over your shoulder. “Well?”

His grave expression doesn’t budge. “I can’t do that,” he says lowly.

But even as he resentfully spits this, he doesn’t budge and his eyes are still tracing over your body, their electric desire leaving goosebumps over wherever they ran over.

You roll your eyes at him. “Then turn around, you idiot.”

He growls, fisting his hands and clenching his jaw tightly but doesn’t try to fight you on it and turns his broad back to you.

You’re intoxicated, so it’s probably because you’re not thinking straight, but as you quickly slip on a silk night gown and stare at his back, you can’t help the deep heavy sadness that sinks into your chest.

Why hadn’t he kissed you just now? You could’ve sworn he wanted to and you sure as hell did...it was there, the moment, the split second when you were willing to risk it all, to overlook any and all boundaries, cross all imposing lines- but you lost it.

Pushing your hair to the side, you convince yourself it was for the best.

“I’m done,” you say softly, climbing into bed.

Agent Barnes nods at you stiffly, turning on his heels to leave as you get under the covers. Blaming this on your intoxication, you suddenly find yourself exclaiming.

“Wait!”

He pauses right before his foot moves outside the doorframe and turns toward you, eyebrows raised. “You need something, Your Highness?”

You stare at him seriously, pressing your head against your pillow. “Don’t...leave, please,” you whisper softly, curling into a ball at the tenderness of your voice.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you admit quietly.

He freezes, staring at you as if he’d never seen you before and you avert your gaze, afraid maybe you let on too much.

“Sorry,” you quickly apologize, but that only flusters you more. “I-I mean not sorry, you asshole. Just- whatever. I’m in bed now, you can go.”

Feeling embarrassed, you quickly flip over and turn your back to him.

Seconds later, you hear the door click close and then nothing. A heavy sigh escapes you and you try to suppress the feeling of disappointment that envelops your whole body.

You didn’t know if it was the drinks or the cold distant dinners you’d been having with your family...but you had never felt more alone. All the clubbing and trying to escape your destiny by trying to pave a life of your own couldn’t fill in that emptiness you couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard you tried.

You didn’t want to feel like that anymore. Not tonight.

So even if it was your bodyguard who you hated with everything in you, you needed someone just to be there. Even if it was just to sit in silence with.

Suddenly, you hear a gentle swish noise and gasp lightly, flipping over. Agent Barnes has thrown his jacket over the chair beside your bed and is loosening his tie and he stares at you. His beautiful gaze sucks you in as you blink up at him in surprise.

He shrugs. “I can’t just....leave you here alone.”

Your chest clenches painfully and warmth travels all over your body like warm gooey honey. The feeling of having someone there for you when you need them most is almost overwhelmingly strong.

“Thank you,” you whisper so quietly, you’re shocked he even hears it.

He tilts his head at you, frowning with that handsome face of his. “For what? It’s my job.”

There he goes detaching himself. With a gentle shrug, you nod and curl into a ball under your covers, trying to covet sleep.

You try this for a few minutes and you’re tired, but you can’t help thinking about Agent Barnes sitting in a hard chair all night. After a while of tossing and turning, you sit up.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you breathe with irritation.

“What? What happened?” he sits up instantly, and though you could tell he was on the verge of dozing off, his sharp senses are impressive as he reaches for the gun on his ankle frantically.

You sigh, hating the way your cheeks grow hot and you look away timidly. “Just get into bed,” you say roughly.

“What?”

You bite your lip, looking at him in the eyes. “I said; get into bed with me. That chair is uncomfortable.”

He laughs lightly. “Princess, I was trained by the world’s best assassins. I was taught to sleep on a cold concrete ground if need be.” He gives the chair a firm pat. “This chair is a luxury for a guy like me.”

You stare at him for a few seconds more, wondering more about his past before lightly shaking your head.

“I don’t care. I still feel bad that I made you sleep here on a chair. Just get in already, will you?” You growl at his stubbornness. “The bed is huge, there’ll be enough space for the both of us, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” you add on, softly.

After a few seconds of intense eye contact, he finally relents with a small sigh. “Fine.”

Hesitantly, he cuffs his sleeves and perches himself on the edge of the bed- all stiff and tight. “Good?” He asks, glancing at you with raised brows.

You frown. “You’re kidding.”

“What?”

“You’re not actually planning to sleep like that are you?” You snort.

“I told you-”

“That you were trained by dangerous assassins, yeah yeah. But you’re still a human and a ridiculous one at that,” you scoff before suddenly smirking. “You’re not afraid of lil old me, are you? I’m tiny- I couldn’t possibly hurt you...too much,” you offer him a faux innocent smile, batting your lashes.

He stares at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh trust me, I’ve met girls like you before. You definitely don’t bite.”

You raise a brow amusedly. “Girls like me?”

His sexy smirk widens. “Yeah. You’re all bark but no bite,” he replies vaguely.

Feeling partially indignant and partially curious, you decide to probe him for answers. “Oh yeah?”

He can’t resist your subtle challenge and continue speaking. “You’re always in power, constantly being chased after because you’re beautiful and rich and you act like it’s what you want in a guy, but it isn’t, is it?”

Deeply intrigued by his generally accurate analysis, you can’t help but laugh. “Oh?”

“No.” He stares deeply into your eyes and the smile slips off your lips as he says his next words with the intensity of a thousand suns. “You bark out orders and you take on responsibilities like a boss, but what you really want is a man. Not a pushover boy that’ll listen to your every command and constantly try to please you, fall at your feet...But a man that’ll choke slam you on the bed, that’ll make you his, that’ll torture you with the deepest pits of hellish pleasure until he ruins every other man for you. You want to be controlled, brought over the edge so far you won’t ever be able to go there by yourself and then at the last moment get that taken away from you. You want to be used.”

You openly gape at him but he ignores you and slightly scoots closer, still at a safe distance, but close enough where you can feel his body heat radiating off of him.

“Sleep, Princess,” he whispers. “I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

At first, you’re too shocked to react. Your heart is positively hammering against your ribcage and your cheeks are uncharacteristically red. You were flushed. How had he managed to...’you know what?’ You think. ‘No.’

You breathe in deeply. ‘ I’m not going to think about it anymore.’

Because doing so would mean letting him win. And also, never mind the fact that he’s in your bed right now...

Decidedly, you squeeze your eyes shut, begging sleep to come amidst all your stupid, surely drunken thoughts about your stupid bodyguard and kissing him, or simply straddling him right now...

Despite how much you disliked him, you felt safe and protected, like you could let your guard down. And yet...not enough.

Soon, lulled by the steady beating of his heart and the warmth of his body, you curl into a ball and slowly let your heavy lids close, relaxing completely.

“Oh, and Agent Brainless?” you murmur, on the very verge of sleep.

“Yes, princess?” He looks at you.

You manage to send him one last cold smirk before answering.

“Don’t misinterpret this, right now. I’m merely asking you to do your job.”

And then darkness takes over.

Before fully giving into the softness of the darkness of slumber, though, you think you hear him laugh softly and say something like “wouldn’t dream of it, brat.”

****

They’re honestly growing on me. Should I continue?

ALSO YALL SEE TFATWS???? SEBASTIAN LOOKS SO DARN GOOD PLEASEEEEEE

A special thanks to:

@lilypalmer1987

@jessikared97

@sammykb1994

@mogaruke

@mo-onstarrs

@loveofmychips @juliesland

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky barnes masterlist #james bucky barnes #marvel #avengers #Winter Soldier #winter soldier x reader #Bodyguard!Bucky #bodyguard!bucky x reader #James Buchanan Barnes #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #captain america

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xgryffinwhore · 4 years ago

Text

mama i’m in love with a hitman

summary: two years with barry what could go wrong? oh yeah hes a murderer-

warnings: some angst, marriage proprosal oop-

you had originally begun acting because it was the only affordable option to get you some time away from your family. ya, you still lived with your family.

anyways, acting became kind of like a release for you. you had been going for about 4 months now, you loved everyone you worked with, they were such great people.

then one day, barry berkman showed up,

and basically changed your life.

the first day you saw him, your heart basically feel out of your ass. holy shit was this guy hot; tall, mysterious, and awkward as hell. perfect.

you took him under your wing, immediately engaging with him and bugging him about his person endeavors and whatnot. you two became inseparable, youre bascially the only reason he even uses his messaging app.

you showed him the ropes of LA, giving him tours of sketchy venues, shitty Chinese restaurants. you always felt so awful for him, dragging him around to every place.

"I'm sorry, barry, im just trying to give you the full LA experience"

"its ok, being seen with the prettiest girl in LA isnt so bad"

yeah, one thing led to another, and you had moved into barry's apartment a year after. your relationship was strong; you cuddle, argue, fuck, all of that modern day romance contraband.

everything was exceptional, other than the fact that he was dragging his feet on marrying you...

yeah, you had dropped some major hints. wedding magazines everywhere, leaving honeymoon deals up on the desktop, evening face timing your friend and talking obnoxiously loud about the idea of getting hitched.

tomorrow was your two year anniversary, and you two had been buzzing about it all week, all the lovey dovey language and such.

"babe, tomorrows the day" he squeezed your shoulders from behind you. you were sitting at the coffee table, and he had just served you toast. "i know old man, didnt think we'd last did ya?" "first of all, im only like four years older than you, second" he kissed you on your temple "i knew you were the one."

in the midst of sipping your coffee and passing back and forth news papers, barry’s phone begins to vibrate; the name “Fuches” catches your eye. who was fuches and why did barry have to step out of the room to answer it?

when he came back he looked ghostly, his complexion pale and his lips quivering slightly. “all ok?” you ask, trying to sound lowkey; “uh um- yep. just have to head out for a bit, they need me at work.”

he left abruptly after, grabbing a hat and his black coat. weird. it was the middle june.

you hadn’t heard from him all day, except for a text at lunch that said

barry: Won’t be home tonight, dont forget to lock up.

your heart sunk, the day before your two year. i mean really what was his damage? you didn’t realize how hard it was to fall asleep without him, you tossed and turned until you eventually caved in and called.

ring...... ring.....

ring..........ring......

‘hey! it’s barry berk-uh um block! leave a message if you want to i guess um ok bye howthefuck do i turnthisthing off-OHH!’

oh how you missed that dorky man, true, it had only been a few hours but his touch was your saving grace. the line beeped and you decided to leave him something

“aha hey bar, y/n here. beds cold without you. miss you. be safe.”

the night way cold and long, you were drifting to sleep. but you heard the front door jangle. you sleepily run down the hall way and run straight into barry. you hugged him, his bosy was stiff and he was trying to inch away from you. "bar!" you whined looking up at him, his nose was bloody and he had a black eye.

“bar?” you wiped his cupid’s bow, the sleepy haze quickly wearing off. he pushes past you “just fell, please just wait for me in bed.” by the time you caught up with him at the bathroom, the door was already shut.

you heard the shower turn on, and you could hear him faintly hiss in pain. he was in there for a while, by the time he got back you could hear the birds chirp, which means it must have been close to 5 am. the sun was still down, and you watch his dark figure slip into bed next you to.

“i love you.” he whispered

“i love you too.” you turned to face him, you knew something was up, you knew he had been hiding something.

“you always leave in the night, when i’m sleeping you always leave barry. is it another women?” barry’s face contorts into a confused scribble. “y/n what? you’re the only one.”

“then why don’t you tell me what you’re really up to. go’s we’ve been dating for two years and you can’t even tell me why you sneak away in the night?!”

barry grabs your hands and puts them close to his face “god y/n i’m sorry happy two years” he gushed and kisses your fingers. a tear trailed down his stubbly cheek. “there are just things i can’t tell you because i don’t want to lose you.”

this hurt you, barry knew all of your deepest secrets, the things you never told anyone other then him. all of this had you worked up, how could he speak to you this way the day of your two year mark? despite his protests, you packed a tooth brush and drove to your friends to stay the night. this was just too much for 3am, you needed space. to clear your head.

you didnt sleep at all that night, you nodded off from 8am to 10, your friend waking you up. "girl i know you dont want to hear this... but barry is outside, hes been parked here since 9" she threw your jeans at you "now go outside and work this shit out, im not prepared to deal with your heart boken ass."

so you put on jeans, and headed for disaster.

you came outside, 'sleepy always looks so good on her' barry thought to himself. you loved him so much, it was so hard to fight with him.

"listen bar, im sorry im just sensitive you know th-"

"y/n"

barry never interrupted you. for as long as you remember there has never once been a time where barry talked over you, or interrupted what you were saying. its something you loved about him, he always seemed so interested in what you had to say, he thought your words where so important.

"yes?"

he pulled a rolled up magazine out of his pack pocket, it was yours, it had faded circles on what cakes and dresses you wanted. he unrolled it and scurried to the 5th page. he pointed at the big raise ranch that you put exclamation points next to.

"this house, i want this house."

he went to the 8th page.

"and this car, we could have that if i stop going to wendys so much"

he giggled to himself and mumbled something about how he knows a guy that can re pair a cooling system.

'uh-um ok barry, what does this have to do with anything? house, car, is this what you drove over here to tell me? you want a better car? you need a bigger house."

he shook his head and trialed to the second page with that beautiful sheath wedding dress, you remembered that.

"youll wear this yeah? some time in the early fall. wouldnt that be nice, still warm, and the leaves-oh the leaves- orange and yellow bring out your eyes so i just figured."

he pulled out the rock, and shit, it didn’t disappoint. you’re not materialistic but what the FUCK?! how did he even afford that-

he slipped it on your finger and you both embraced. messy kisses all over whatever skin you two could find. it was bliss, it was happiness.

you hugged for a while. just sat there reflecting on how far you two had come, and how happy he was going to make you feel for the res rod your life. it’s crazy, you thought marriage wasn’t in the cards for you. but with barry, you can see 5 kids, a dog, and a stupid picket fence.

you were so captured in this moment, you didn’t notice barry’s demeanor change. you looked up and him, he was pale white, staring behind his shoulder at the street. you leaned over his forearm and saw a beat up mom car.

in it was a shaggy dude, didn’t look too much older then barry. he was plump in the face, and his face was aged.

“fuches!?” barry exclaimed.

“come on. we have a hit, i habe your sniper in the back. now.”

another WHAT?

#bill hader #bill hader imagine #bill hader fluff #barry #barry berkman #barry block #barry bergman imagine #barry berkman fluff #fluff #angst #barry x reader #barry x you #barry fluff #marriage

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kaitycole · 4 years ago

Text

Love Two: the hard love

Summary: Miya Atsumu is an adventure and a half which is exciting for you after a mundane high school relationship. But what price has to be paid in order for you to be in his world?

Parings: Atsumu x Reader

Word Count: 7187 (my apologies)

Warnings: Angst. Toxic relationship tropes. Toxic behaviors. Slight physical violence (towards the end - it’s a wrist grab and a slap). Adult language.

Rating: 16+

A/N: This series is based on an article that talks about how in live, most of us experience three types of love. I’ll link the article in the series master post for anyone who wants to read it!

Golden yellow hair.

Chocolate brown eyes.

Burnt cinnamon cologne.

These images burn into your mind as tears sting your dry eyes. You swallow hard, trying to get the lump in your throat to dislodge but it only reminds you of how dry your throat is, how sore it is from screaming. Your head lays heavy on your pillow, a dull ache wraps around your head and you aren’t sure if it’s from the alcohol or the crying you’ve done over the last three days.

You two had a fight, another fight, the same old fight. You screamed, he brushed it off, leaving in a rush and slamming the door while you slid down the doorframe, sobbing. You thought that you’d be used to this, the constant up and downs that came with loving Miya Atsumu, the rollercoaster of emotions that came with the cycle of being together, breaking up and then getting back together. You’d been doing it for three years now, on and off again, but never being off for long before he dragged you back into his arms, not that you ever refused.

Your head hangs to the side as you slowly push yourself off the floor, your body too tired after fighting to climb into your bed the night before. For a moment you consider crawling down the hall before your pride takes over as you stand up, legs stiff but wobbly at the same time as your feet drag you to the couch in the living room. You aren’t sure what time it is, your eyes slowly adjusting to the large amount of sunlight coming into the apartment, the apartment he surprised you with and you had loved, now it felt like a prison.

Your phone starts buzzing and when you look, there’s several notifications from your two best friends Kaneko Yua and Higashi Naoki. You shuffle to the kitchen, grabbing a cup as you perch your phone between your shoulder and cheek, filling you cup with tap water.

“Y/N! Where are you?” Yua’s voice is too loud for the linger ache in your head, you jerk the phone from your ear to turn the volume down.

You chug down the ice-cold water that does nothing to remove the dryness from your mouth or throat, it’s as if it’s been coated in a thick layer of cotton. “Apartment.”

She’s silent for a minute, you can hear her mumbling to someone next to her. There’s a muffled sound coming from her end before a new voice comes through the line, fresh tears prick your eyes when you recognize it’s Naoki.

“We’re coming over, don’t leave.”

* * Three years ago

Your high school days had been filled with volleyball matches, practices, tournaments and while you have no ill feelings towards the sport or the boy who brought it into your life, you just hoped university would broaden your horizons.

Yet here you stood at a MSBY Fan Greet, your younger brother all but vibrating with excitement as he waited to get his overprice photograph signed by his favorite team. You previously made plans to hang-out with Yua over the spring break, but since your parents both couldn’t take him, your brother guilted you with the “but I miss hanging out with you” card and puppy dog eyes.

“For you.” His accent coats his words, passing you small folded piece of paper before your brother makes his way down the line to the next player for an autograph, tugging at your pants for you to follow his lead.

** “Wanna get something from the vending machine before the next class?” Yua asks. Kaneko Yua became your friend when you both started university last year, the two of you quickly became the best of friends even though the only interests you share is in your shared Art History major.

“I’m done for the day.” You tilt your head, smiling right before you stick your tongue out at her.

She throws her head back, groaning as you continue to walk, “how’d you get such a good schedule.”

“Told you to take those early morning classes.” You wink before running into her as she suddenly stops. “Yua-ch—”

Golden yellow hair and a cocky smile catch your attention as he leans against a flash sports car in the library parking lot. Yua looks at you, her eyes wide, you had mentioned that you got his number a few weeks ago to her, but that nothing but short conversation came from the exchange which only lasted a few days.

“Y/N!” He calls out to you, obnoxiously waving one arm up in the air to catch your attention, it does, along with the rest of the student body that’s outside.

He starts walking over to you and Yua, pulling off his sunglasses you see that dark chocolate eyes that captured your (e/c) ones just weeks ago. Your heart is thumping against your chest as he quickly closes that gap that has been between you, a short arm’s distance away from him. You can smell his cologne, it’s a strong smell, something similar to burnt cinnamon being carried by the wind the circles around you.

Yua looks at you for answers but you couldn’t give her any if you even tried. You find yourself swallowed whole by his dark eyes, feeling like you’re about to sink. “M-Miya-san?”

“Atsumu.” He smirks, “sorry for just showing up. I was in the neighborhood and thought we could go get something to eat. You aren’t busy, are you?”

“No, she’s not.” Yua nudges your arm, bringing you back to reality, “she’s actually all finished for the day.”

“What do you say? Will you come with me?” He reaches out his hand and you almost immediately take it and maybe you should’ve been more cautious, after all this wasn’t like it was in high school.

** The first few months with Atsumu are blissful, perfect and you start to wonder if this is what you were missing back with Ushijima. Every day with Atsumu is an adventure, you never know what to expect which is a sharp contrast to that same day everyday feeling you had back in high school. He keeps you on your toes and you love it, you eat it up, spending all your free time with him and it shows when you get back a test with a failing mark.

“Budding romances aren’t the most important thing in life, Y/N.” Your professor speaks low when he places the paper on the desk, he doesn’t have to tell you how he feels about it, disappointment drips from his words.

Atsumu didn’t offer much help on the subject either, simply shrugging at it and telling you that there’s always the next test. “Let’s go out.” “I really should study, ‘Tsumu.” You tilt your head back to look up at him, he’s sitting on the couch behind you.

He says your name, dragging out each syllable, “it’s the last night I can. I have an away game that I leave for on Friday.”

“You didn’t tell me that.” “Must have forgot.” He looks down at his phone, “coming or not?”

You know that you shouldn’t have gone, that studying is more important, but him leaving meant that you’d be apart for the first time and he had that lopsided pout on his face, so you agree. Grabbing your jacket and following him out the door as he drapes an arm around you, “I can always count on you.”

* * Two years and four months ago

“I’m gonna kill him!” Yua shouts as she walks into your dorm room. She practically ran from her part-time job in the library to your dorm when you called her, unable to talk from crying so loudly. While she took the elevator up to your room, she managed to see the text explaining the cause of your distress and is fuming.

“You’ll…go…to jail.” You finally manage to spit out, the sobs and hiccups breaking up your words as you wipe your running nose on your sweatshirt sleeve. Usually Yua would scold you, telling you just how disgusting that it, but tonight she just sits next to you, letting you lean on her shoulder.

She gently rubs your arm as she wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer to her side, “maybe I’ll key that fancy car of his.”

“I think it’s his brother’s.”

“Deflate his balls!”

“Yua!”

“Volleyballs, get your head out of the gutter.” She smiles when you let out a small laugh. She leans her head down on yours and you are thankful that you’re close enough for the silence to be comfortable, for certain things to be left unsaid.

* * Two years and two months ago

The next few weeks seem to drag by, each day seemingly longer than the last. Yua has all but moved into your dorm, refusing to leave your side for more than the duration of classes. With her there, you realize even more that your phone hasn’t gone off, there’s no surge of messages coming through from a certain setter. Things take a bit of a turn when you hear a nearby conversation, two girls gushing about some famous model getting into a relationship to a volleyball player.

But it’s that said volleyball player’s name that anchors your feet to the ground, that name that echoes in your ears while your lungs struggle to take in the air you want to force into them.

Miya Atsumu

Yua essentially banned the use of his name or anything related to him into your life and for better or worse you’ve both manage to uphold it, especially seeing how with his newest brand deal, his face is everywhere just like Michael Jordan’s was in the U.S. during the 90’s. Somehow, you manage to avoid it, until now when your body seems to act on its own and you’re sudden reading several headlines confirming the match.

* * Two years ago

“Are you sure you’ll be okay alone?” Yua looks at you, worry etched on her expression, “I don’t have to go to this guest speaking event.”

“Yua, you’ve been talking about this for weeks, you’re going.”

“Promise to call if you need me to come back? I’m only going to Tokyo, so I can get back within three hours.”

“Yes, yes, I promise.” You make a “shoo” gesture with your hand, walking towards her as she picks up her back to leave. You pull her into a quick hug, reassuring her that everything will be fine for one weekend.

** You let out a dramatic sigh, towel drying your hair as you walk out of the bathroom and towards your bed.

8PM on a Friday and I’m getting ready for bed, lame.

You’re slipping on a pair of fuzzy socks when the music you’ve been playing gets interrupted by a phone call. Within much thought, assuming it’s Yua, you answer, only to stop in your tracks when a familiar and husky voice calls your name.

“Y/N!” Each syllable of your name is drawn out with a slight lag, a telltale sign that he’s intoxicated.

If Yua was there, she would tell you to just hang up and block the number, that you had been doing better lately and should just let someone else deal with it, but Yua isn’t there and you feel that it must mean something if you had been the one he called. Drunken words are sober thoughts, right?

His drunken voice and repeated plea of your name is enough to melt you, enough to make you throw all rational thought out the window, quickly throwing on a hoodie, rushing to the address he barely slurred out.

Fortunately, the restaurant he is at isn’t too far from your dorm, however it is embarrassing when you walk in and could hear him across the room, shouting for you.

“Atsumu.”

He quickly turns to you, that sloppy grin of his piercing you in the heart as he stumbles over to throw his arms around you. The scent of alcohol hits you before he does, leaving you to wonder just how much he’s had as you stagger backwards a bit before steadying the both of you. You just barely get the both of you to a cab, his constant swaying challenging you until you’re able to shove him in the vehicle, hesitating when asked where they were taking you. You didn’t know where he was staying these days, you still weren’t sure what he was doing in Kyoko, so you settle for the only address you know to go.

** “Are you serious?” Yua shouts, all but pulling out her hair.

Three weeks. That’s how long Atsumu had been back in your life and how long your best friend had been in the dark about it. You wanted to tell her about the night Atsumu called drunk, but felt it was best to do it in person since it was such a touchy subject, but when she got back, she was still so excited about the speaker and to tell you about it, you lost your nerve.

Then as the days continued to go by, you kept coming up with a reason not to tell her. What you weren’t expecting was her for to just show up out of the blue or for a fresh out of the shower Atsumu to answer the door. You felt confrontation coming and that was something you weren’t a huge fan of.

“I know it looks bad, but I can explain.”

Yua shakes her head, her lips in a straight line, foot tapping on the tile flooring. “This is why you’ve been cutting classes and missing assignments.”

“I don’t see how this is your business at all.” Atsumu glances over at Yua, an amused smirk on his lips, “jealousy doesn’t suit you, sweetheart.”

Yua turns abruptly on her heel, storming out of the dorm room and when you grab her arm, there’s tears in her eyes when she turns to face you.

“He’s changed, Yua.” There’s such a hopeful look on your face, an expression that screams that you actually believe him.

She drags her arm across her eyes, wiping away the tears, “why can’t you see he’s not good for you!”

* * 1 year and 10 months ago

The shuffling of your peers is lost on you, motionlessly staying in your seat as all of those around you practically bolt out after the 55 minutes long public speaking class. Your eyes are trained on the board in front of you but the notebook on your desk is unopened, your pen still capped.

It takes a few moments for you to notice the weight of the hand on your shoulder and the back and forth motion it's pushing you in. Shaking your head, you snap out of whatever daze you’ve been in and look over to see Naoki with a concerned expression on his face.

“Do you need to see the nurse?”

You shake your head, “oh, no. I was just thinking.”

He raises an eyebrow at the quick smile you throw his way before he sighs, giving into your excuse, even after only knowing each other a few months, Naoki knew when to just let things go.

“Good morn—You aren’t Yua.” You stopped your greeting when you noticed the shuffling at the chair next to you wasn’t Yua but someone you’d never seen before.

“Oh no, sorry. I’m Higashi Naoki, I just transferred here.” He gave you a big bright smile, extending his hand out.

“Uh, oh, hello.” You felt embarrassment creep up the back of your neck as you awkwardly shook his hand. Luckily your phone vibrated, allowing you to focus your attention to something else other than the rather attractive brunette sitting next to you.

You read the words on the screen, somewhat understood the meaning of them but your mind kept going back to the warm orange brown eyes that looked at you with such kindness. They reminded you of the way you felt back in high school, the way that Ushijima made sure you always felt: safe.

To your surprise, Yua had already met Naoki, they shared the glass before this one and Yua was actually excited that you two had ended up meeting. After that, the three of you were fast friends, almost as if you had all been friends for years rather than just several weeks. But not everyone was excited for your new friendship and he had no problem being very vocal about it.

Atsumu wasn’t keen on the friendship when he randomly showed up to the campus one day, seeing the two of you sitting outside, laughing. You had to run after him, he took off without letting you even introduce Naoki, trying to tell him that he was just a friend, but Atsumu seemed to already have his mind made up on what was what.

A week later, after not hearing from Atsumu you got a message from him telling you that he needed to dedicate himself more to his team, his career and being in a relationship with you just wasn’t it.

“You can copy my notes during lunch, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Nao-chan!” You smile up at him while shoving your things into your backpack. He clears his throat, blush spreading across his cheeks as he turns away from you.

** Professor A: Missing Assignments

Professor B: Make-up Test Notice

Professor C: Mandatory Advisor Meeting

XMail: Unread Messages (12)

You feel a pit in your stomach, not wanting to read the emails, already knowing the disappointed messages they held. You hadn’t been your best self lately especially when it came to your studies and had several unfinished assignments and 0’s in the gradebook. It wasn’t like this was the first time you and Atsumu had been broken up but for some reason, each time felt worse than the previous time.

Leaning back, you let out a deep sigh as you glance around at the boxes that liter the room. After you and Atsumu broke up the most recent time, Yua managed to convince you to move into her off-campus apartment. At first you didn’t like the idea, not wanting to be a burden to her or cause anyone to think anything of her with you living with her, but she wouldn’t heard anything but yes. She told you that she had the space (her parents insisted on getting her a two bedroom even though it was just her) and it was easier for her to keep an eye on you.

There are still some things that are in boxes, mostly things from Atsumu that you didn’t want to toss out, but didn’t think should be on display either. Plus, with all the catching up you had to do, there wasn’t much time for anything else especially with the schedule that Yua had made for you. The two of you shared most classes, so she had all the notes and study guides you needed and to be honest, it helped keep your mind off a certain MSBY setter.

BZZT!

Nao-chan: I’m heading up, let me in! (1:42PM)

A smile spreads across your face, pushing yourself from the desk and quickly slipping out of your room and towards the door. By the time you open it, you see him walking up the hallway and he flashes you his signature smile when his eyes meet yours.

“Nao-chan!” You crash into him, wrapping him into a hug, one that he returns effortlessly.

“What have I done to get such a warm welcome?”

“I can’t just miss you?” You tilt your head when you look up at him, stepping away from him to look him in the eye. You hold back a laugh when you see his face turn red, turning his face away from you before mumbling something along the lines of “yeah, no, that’s fine.”

You bring back two cups of juice (Yua refused to let soda into the apartment) and notice that Naoki seems to be nervous, wringing his hands together and looking down at the ground which is different that he usually acts.

“Nao-chan, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, uhm, well I wanted to ask you something.” He makes eye contact with you and you nod for him to continue, “I bought these and thought we could go together.”

He pulls something out of the inside pocket of his jacket, passing it to you and for a second your blood runs cold, eyes scanning over the item picking up the word ‘volleyball’. By the warmth suddenly on your arm, you could tell that Naoki sensed your discomfort.

“Forget it, it was a dumb idea.”

“No! It’s not, it’s just…uhm…”

“I just thought that it might be a good way to get out of the apartment and it’s an Adlers’ game so maybe you’d seen your friend.”

You scrunch your brows together before looking back at the tickets. It was for a game between the Schweiden Adlers and Tachibana Red Falcons, a smile spread across your face, a mix of excitement to see Ushijima play again (his play style is still one of your favorites) but also that Naoki remembered these little facts about you.

“I’d love to go. I’ll call Ushijima and tell him we’ll be there!” You give him a quick hug, rushing to your room to get your phone, leaving a smiling Naoki behind.

** Naoki smiles watching you all but vibrate as you wait in line to go into the gym. The game had been all you talked about for the last two weeks, eager to get out of the apartment for anything other than classes or your on-campus job. You spent most of your free time telling Naoki just how amazing Ushijima is on the court and how he had already asked to meet Naoki, who seemed a bit nervous when you mentioned that.

“I didn’t know you liked watching volleyball, Nao-chan. Did you play in school?”

“Oh, uh no. The person I’m interested in likes it, so I thought I’d learn more about it.” He hands over the tickets, the two of you being ushered into to the building. His shoulder brushes yours due to the large amount of people all in the crowed hallway.

“I didn’t know you had your eye on someone! I’ll teach you all I know about volleyball so you can impress them!” You beam a huge smile at Naoki before your attention is pulled to the other side of the hallway. “Nao-chan! Let’s get t-shirts!”

He follows you as you drag him towards a table set up with shirts to memorialize the game. You intended to get matching ones, but due to size differences, you had a settle with a white shirt for you and a black on for Naoki. After you reluctantly let him pay, the two of you make your way to the gym, Ushijima had seats held for the two of you.

Once the whistle blew, you were back in your element, a huge smile on your face watching Ushijima command the court just like he had been for as long as you could remember. For the first time in years, you feel light and free, happier than you can remember being. Ushijima catches your eye at some point during the second set and you eagerly wave to him, giving him that same toothy grin you did as kids.

** “Toshi!” You barely give him time to turn around, running straight into him as you throw your arms around him, both Toshi and Naoki chuckle at the fact you managed to knock Toshi off balance for a few seconds.

“Y/N.” He pulls you into his broad chest and if you hadn’t known him for years, you wouldn’t believe that this tall and muscular man was the same boy who ran around with a watering can that was almost as big as him. “I’m glad you came today, it’s been a while.”

“Since high school.” You bite your lower lip and notice that Toshi squeezes your arm, a gesture he’d do to comfort you. He gives you a reassuring wink, letting you know that there’s no hard feelings about the past before he looks over at Naoki, “are you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?”

“Oh no! No, no, no.” You stumble over your words, frantically waving your hands around.

“I’m Higashi Naoki, nice to meet you.”

“Nao-chan is just a friend.”

Linking your arm with his, you look back at him and see his smile drop for a split second before it reappears while shaking hands with Ushijima but that quickly leaves your mind when you see a familiar poof of orange hair. But before you can take the time to figure out who he is, you hear an accent that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to forget.

“Just friends, huh?”

Your eyes widen in horror, immediately turning and seeing the familiar sight of golden yellow hair walking away from you.

“Y/N—” Naoki reaches out to grab your arm, but you’ve already started running after Atsumu, calling out his name as you rushed to catch up to him, weaving through the crowded hallways.

“Tsumu!” You finally grab ahold of his wrist, trying to pull him back but instead he just yanks you forward as he tries to get his arm away from you.

“Don’t call me that.” His tone is icy with an expression that matches, “why are you even here?”

“I came to see Tos—Ushijima.”

“I mean why are you here talking to me, you are clearly on a date with what’s his face.”

“Nao-chan? We’re just friends, it was just to get out of the apartment and have fun.” Your voice is trembling, bottom lip quivering listening to the harsh tone of his voice.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes, “you were all over him, just stop lying.”

“No! I wasn’t.” The tears you’ve been trying to hold back now slip down your cheeks, you couldn’t figure out why he was acting like this especially when you were broken up.

“I never thought you’d end up like all those other girls, just another pig wanting to date me for status.”

Your heart is pounding loudly in your ears that you don’t hear whatever else he mumbled before turning and walking away, your arm weakly reaches out to him before your knees hit the vinyl flooring. After several moments pass, you feel someone pull you up and wrap their arms around you, the familiar scent of men’s body wash washes over you.

“Thank you.” You choke out, the comforting embrace causing more tears to fall.

“Best friends forever, right?”

* * 1 year and 3 months ago

“Are people looking at me?”

“Huh?” Yua raises an eyebrow as she looks over at you.

“There’s a psychology term for that feeling, it’s called spotlight effect.” Naoki says, trying to reassure you that no one’s looking.

“No, I think she’s right.” Yua stretches an arm out in front of him, causing him to stop walking before you drop your backpack on the ground, shocked.

Atsumu is standing on campus, wearing a suit, carrying a stupidly large bouquet of flowers, going around asking where you are, all but shouting your name to the sky. Part of you wants to disappear, of course he’d choose to stand in the middle of campus, catching everyone’s attention.

You trip slightly over your bag, marching towards him, barely hearing Naoki calling after you before Atsumu’s attention snaps to you, his eyes locking in on yours.

“Y/N!” Gleefully, he scurries towards you, handing the bouquet to you, it’s heavier than you thought it’d be.

“Atsumu, what are you doing?”

“I want, no, I need to talk to you.” He drops down to his knees and you can hear the increase of hushed tones, you glance back to see a very confused Yua and Naoki wears a horrified expression. “I’d like to try again, please.”

“Atsumu…”

“I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

“Okay, okay, just…please get up. People are staring.” You try to hide your face behind the flowers, the pure embarrassment causing your face to burn.

He pushes himself off the ground, grabbing your hand as he pulls you towards the faculty parking lot. It doesn’t feel like you are in your own body, your legs moving to keep up with him before he stops.

Once again, he drops down to his knees, grabbing your hands with his, pleading with you to listen to him, to believe that he really means it when he tells you that he’s changed, asking you for just one more shot. For most of his speech, you look at the top of his head, seeing that the golden yellow is being overtaken by his natural dark brown roots, your fingers twitch, wanting to run through his hair. It’s when you finally lock eyes with him that you see the tears that line them, a single one slipping down his cheek from the corner of his right eye.

“I shouldn’t have come.” He wipes his eyes, sniffling a bit. He squeezes your hands before he stands up, letting you go. “I’m sorry for doing this you.”

There’s no way to explain it, but he seems different and suddenly you want to see this new him, to be the one that gets to be part of this new and mature Atsumu. Throwing all your sense out the window, pushing the rational and logical voices of Yua and Naoki to the back of your head, you wrap your arms around him, pressing your face into his back and you can feel his heart pounding in his chest.

“Don’t go.”

* * 9 months ago

“Y/N! Door!”

Still in the process of buttoning your shirt, you poke your head out of your room, “I’m almost done, can you get it, please?”

Yua and Naoki share a look, when you had told them you decided to get back with Atsumu they weren’t shy about telling you how they were against it, that as your friend they hated seeing you so hurt, but they also told you that they weren’t just going to leave you either. It had been an unspoken rule that when it came to all things Atsumu (including opening the door) that they didn’t want to be part of it, for you to keep that part of your life away, unless he did something to hurt you.

Naoki reluctantly gets up, you can tell by the way he sluggishly walks his way towards the door. Dipping back into your room, you finish getting ready, grabbing your phone and sweater before pulling the door shut behind you.

You hear the door slam shut and look to see an irritated Naoki, “where’s Tsumu?” Naoki goes to speak, but you don’t give him a chance, instead just rush out of the apartment.

“Tsumu! Tsumu!” You shout out to him, barely catching his attention as he presses the button for the elevator. “Where are you going?”

He clenches his fist; the gesture catches your eye. “Home. I didn’t sign up to be humiliated tonight.” He looks at you, a type of rage in his eyes that you’ve never seen before and you aren’t sure what could’ve happened to make him so upset. Since he showed up on campus, begging for another chance eh always made sure to be open about his feelings.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You have to tell me, Tsumu.”

“I just don’t like him being in your apartment.”

The elevator dings, doors opening and just as he goes to step into it, you pull back on his arm, pleading with him to stay, tears filling your eyes. He jerks his arm from your grip, not that you were holding on that tightly, and he steps into the elevator.

You aren’t sure why your relationship is like this, why it has so many ups and downs, why it hurts this much. You aren’t sure why being with Atsumu is so hard, why it feels like all you see is his back while he walks away from you, leaving you broken each time. In high school, you hated the almost boring way each day with Ushijima felt, but in this moment, you’d give anything for that because at least back then you felt safe and knew where you stood.

* * 5 months ago

For the last four months, Atsumu spoiled you rotten with daily gifts and elaborate dates. You received a flower a day, it was the flower of your birth month, boxes of your favorite candies, along with cards that had some romantic quote in them.

For dates, he takes you to the best restaurants, buys out move theatres, flies you to various parts of Japan to not only watch his games, but to show you around. When you’re together, he actually listens to you, takes his time to finally get to ask you about your upbringing, family, and where you see yourself in five years. He shows you how he’s remembered things you don’t like and even the things that you do and for the first time in the two plus years you’ve known him, it feels like things are starting to even out, that all the turmoil might just be over.

** “Do you like it?” His accent drips from his words, you’ve noticed the accent gets thicker when he’s either nervous or excited.

You glance around the empty apartment, a bit confused as why you’re standing in the middle of it. You thought that Yua apartment was big, considering it had two bedrooms, but this seems to be even bigger than hers. The large windows allow an abundance of natural light and you really do like that.

“It’s a really nice apartment.” You smile as he walks over to you, pulling you into his toned chest, his chin on your forehead.

“I’m glad, it’s yours.”

You pull back, shock written all over your expression, too many thoughts racing through your mind for you to form a sentence. Atsumu did a lot of crazy things, did a lot of spur of the moment things, but this, this really did top them all. “What?”

He shrugs, digging in his pocket before placing a key in your hand, he looks a bit scared to you. “It’s just…my lease was up and I know it’s a bit further from campus than Yua’s, but I was thinking you’d like to live here…with me.”

Without any hesitation, you throw your arms around Atsumu, repeatedly saying “yes” as you awkwardly bounced up and down. When you pull back, he cups your face in his hands, bringing you closer for a kiss.

You can’t stop smiling, eagerly nodding your head as Atsumu talks about furniture and getting your things boxed to be moved, not really hearing anything because all you can think of is that things are finally going to work out between the two of you and that’s why your heart is thumping against your chest.

* * 3 months ago

Two months.

8 weeks.

60.8 days.

That’s how long your relationship of bliss lasted, how long you saw the caring and loving version of Atsumu, the side of him that stole your heart even after months and years of back and forth, ups and down, on and off.

You hate it because things were going so well, everything was perfect, even better than how great things had been with Ushijima back in high school. What you hate even more is the fact that while you had been packing up your things, you said some not so nice things to Yua, telling her that she was wrong about him, that this time things were going to work out. You had all but bragged and even hit below the belt with saying she was just jealous that she didn’t have someone that loved her the way Atsumu loves you.

Nine times out of ten you’re alone in this apartment, your music on the highest volume isn’t loud enough to fill the silence that creeps through the rooms and wraps around you and when the silence gets to you, you’re forced to think about things you’d rather not. Like how right Yua had been, how Naoki was only looking out for you, how every time you got back together with Atsumu, it just seemed to hurt worse than the time before.

During that one time of ten that Atsumu is home, the two of you just fight, you fight about everything really; your classes, his games, your friends, his friends and now that you’re all but isolated from your friends, it just makes things worse. You’ve always hated comparing the two, Ushijima to Atsumu, knowing both relationships are/were different, but recently, you’ve wondered if repeating the same day over and over, if that almost suffocating comfort, you wonder if that would be easier to live with now when looked at next to the way your current relationship has been.

* * Atsumu flips his phone face down, muting it after it had begun to ring, turning his attention back to the movie the two of you were watching.

You scoff, pushing yourself off his side to lean against the other side of the sofa.

“Don’t start.”

“Start what? I was just getting more comfortable.”

“Cut the shit. You always do this.”

You roll your eyes, already irritated. “Did you want me to leave the room so you could call her back?”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about.” He pushes himself off the couch, shaking his head as he storms into the kitchen.

You reach across the couch, swiping his phone from the armrest, trying to get into it, but no surprise he’s once against changed the passcode. You’re fuming at this point, shoving yourself off the couch before you start to walk to your room. You were done, have been done with all of this.

His hand tightly wraps around your wrist and jerks you backwards towards him. He starts yelling, demanding that you give him back his phone and the anger in you takes over and you throw it across the room. You start to scream about how you’re done, you’re tired and don’t deserve to feel this miserable. He yells back telling you that he’s giving you things anyone would be thankful to have and you smack him with your free hand.

He freezes, dropping your wrist as he runs his fingers through his hair, the expression on his face is something you’ve never seen and without another word, he storms out of the apartment.

You didn’t see him for three weeks, if it hadn’t been for his teammates Hinata and Bokuto stopping by, you wouldn’t have known that he’s okay and has been staying with them. When he does come back, he has a long-winded apology and a large bouquet of flowers. He falls to his knees in the door way, telling you that he’s sorry, that he can’t believe his actions and that he swears that he’ll do better.

* * Present Day

When you open the door, Yua throws her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace and you feel yourself start to sob again. She holds you up as your knees get weak, letting the exhaustion take over you as you inhale her familiar perfume.

Naoki slightly pushes by the two of you, angrily making his way through the apartment, brows scrunched into a scowl. You watch as he flings open every door, stomping through each room before he walks back to you, rage radiating off of him. “Where the fuck is he?”

You’re startled, panicking you look up at Yua who wraps her arm around your neck and pulls you back into her, your face pressing just below the top of her shoulder.

“Obviously not here, so chill out.”

She ushers you over to the couch, Naoki handing you the throw blanket to wrap around yourself as you finally catch your breath. You lean your head on the back of the couch, it just adds pressure to your headache, but you’re having a hard time opening up to your friends.

“How’d you know something was wrong?” You slowly lift your head up, looking between the two of them, your face turning red when you hear that you called Naoki repeatedly around 2AM, leaving incoherent voicemails where they only picked up on the words: fight, Atsumu and leave.

“I really think you should move back in with me.” Yua speaks with caution, knowing how sensitive the topic is.

You just nod, defeatedly. You’re more upset about failing to maintain the relationship than you are that the relationship is over. Part of you wants to know why you put yourself through so much to prove you could stay with him, was it because you didn’t want your previous break-up to mean nothing? That if you could make this one work then you weren’t an awful person for ending things with Ushijima for an almost comical reason?

“Just pack what you have to have and we’ll replace whatever you don’t bring and need, okay?” Naoki gives you a small smile before Yua stands up telling you that she’ll grab your things from the bathroom and Naoki can get the things throughout the living room.

Roughly half an hour later, you have most of the things you brought, minus any gifts that Atsumu gave you, but you can’t seem to step through the threshold. Yua and Naoki are standing in the hallway waiting, but you’re afraid to make the step because all of a sudden it symbolizing a bigger commitment that you intended. Once you step out of the apartment, once you shut the door and drop the key in the box, you’re officially shutting the Miya Atsumu chapter of your life and that shakes you to the core.

“Y/N, you’re going to be okay. We’re right here. I’m right here.” Naoki reaches out his hand and you decide to take that leap, grabbing on to his hand like a lifeline. Your knees are wobbly as you place one foot into the hallway, straddling the threshold. “C’mon, just one more step. I got you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, frantically taking that last step before throwing your arms around Naoki, repeatedly saying “I did it!” He puts his hand on the back of your head, pressing you into him, telling you that he’s proud of you.

You take one last look into the apartment that for some reason now fills small, it feels different, like you no longer belong there and while you’re still terrified of letting go of the rope that ties you and Atsumu together, there’s something exhilarating about starting over. Your eyes are closed as you pull the door shut and when you turn and open them, you see proud smiles on both Yua and Naoki’s faces and you couldn’t help but be excited for this next chapter.

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

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#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu atsumu #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #hq angst #my three loves #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu reader insert #kaitycole MTL #atsumu angst #tw toxic relationship #tw angst #tw toxic behavior #tw physical violence #tw slapping #tw adult language

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kettlequills · 4 years ago

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ok so this was inspired by this post made by @argisthebulwark - check her blog out! - about dovahkiin soulmates that could feel each other's pain. naturally i ran with the concept of dragonborn soulmates. feat. my ldb laataazin/miraak.

Laataazin has always felt trapped. Before they are Laat-aaz, even, when they are a nameless prisoner, hands-bound, another to be executed through a simple whim of fate. No memories then in the buzzing darkness of their mind, but a feeling of fear, confusion, brief-dawning wonderment on the heels of hot green rage in the drumming space of their chest that was theirs-and-not-theirs. Breath hurting, unused lungs and trembling hands that will not grip round the hilt of the sword Hadvar tries to press into their hands like they know it ought. Like they know scars on their bodies – body, for there is only one Dragonborn, only one.

How dare, their mind rages, how dare the gods try to discard me.

These thoughts, these hungers, these fears, are surely Laataazin’s alone, clear as Masser’s moonlight in the dark sky.

They have known imprisonment, in the cold, whispering bowels of Dragonsreach dungeons, where Mephala murmurs maliciously in every iron bar and chiselled stone, hissing breaths dampening, soft and light as cobwebs falling upon a sleeper’s eye, sanity, safety, sight. Trying to tempt, twist, torment total truth from the prisoner-that-would-be-Laataazin, named Dovahkiin and wrestling the ashes of Mirmulnir into restless ebb. Oil-and-ink in Laat’s nose, and a will that is theirs-and-not-theirs, resistant, defiant, no more daedra than dragonfire, sings firm around Mephala’s words, like the thrum of earthbones a song that refuses to be a bound-and-fooled-slave again.

Don’t complain so much, says the thoughts-that-are-Laataazin, they’ll let you out.

Their dragon-soul, for it must be theirs, is loud, angry, knows their head. It refuses to be quieted, grumbles and snaps at the rolls and reams of papery scrolls the Greybeards set down in front of them, snarling answers in a mother-tongue Laataazin has never known, with the air of distant, impatient distraction, like wings brushing across planes. Laataazin is not much of a reader, puzzles through relearning letters in dusty texts that take bored moments to recall when their body slumps softening into slow sleep. They wake with understanding and vague, boundless frustration, dragon-words in dragon-soul that mutter about Stupid fools and their vapid teachings, you will never learn with these chains on your wings.

Laataazin meditates for endless hours on frigid snowcaps with Paarthurnax’s breath steaming the snow and still thinks of smashing skulls and bloodied steel, still thinks of broken wills and shattered spirits.

It is, they tell Paarthurnax, a losing battle. There is something in them that wants out, and it will stop at nothing, nothing, to claw itself free from the trap locked shut around its howling muzzle.

Mortality is a losing battle, Paarthurnax reminds them. It is their nature to beat against the bars of inevitability, and turn their faces from the grind of time.

Hypocritical lizard, the soul-that-must-be-Laataazin’s mutters, and Laataazin chooses not to share this or the smile it provokes.

Laataazin goes about their divine-driven hunting of twin-souled dragons, who speak to them in a language they know, who challenge them to fights they win, who know them and are stranger to them in a way that only the careless and god-flung may be. They do not want to kill the dragons that are like themselves, who look at the sky and see a glorious road untravelled rather than the distant god-realm for no mortal to cross.

Your soft heart will do us harm, their soul reminds them. Do not spare what hungers to hurt.

Delphine tells them that they are not bloodthirsty enough, that they accept the surrender of too many, and create surrender still where there is not even that. That there is no point sparing monsters, and that Laataazin has a duty, a destiny, a fate.

Laataazin tells Delphine and their soul both that they have chosen a different path. But Akatosh does not make the same mistake twice, and this time, there is no give in the leash of fate wrapped tightly around the neck of the Last Dragonborn.

Ushered by inevitability, they go to face Alduin, and within them their soul rants and raves for its freedom. Fate! Fate! The gods laugh at us.

In Sovngarde, they feel empty, empty. It is a dead place for dead souls, and there is no place for living ties in bodies that breathe and fates that twine. Laataazin’s chest feels cold and dim, unwarmed by so total an omnipresence they had thought it part of themselves. It is not, they know now. There is… something, someone, else.

Gormlaith’s golden hair shines like septims when she smiles at Laataazin, all bared teeth. I knew you would come around, she says, and Laataazin wonders which of them she is talking to, Alduin-that-is-Akatosh, or Laataazin-that-is-trapped. Like standing in a boxful of mirrors, making eye-contact with a thousand versions of an image, an icon, a legend, borne through the ages to consume itself.

It is done. Alduin returns to himself, and fate twirls the key to the shackles of its Last prisoner. Tsun drags their weeping body from the gate and casts it into the realm of air and sunlight, wordless in the face of their inappropriate grief. When Laataazin returns, staggering and coughing out their lungs onto the windswept emptiness of the snow-throat beneath the watching dragon-eyes, feeling slams back into them with all the force of a tidal wave. Pure, blistering rage, fanned so hot it can only be the most animal of panic.

Where did you go? demands the thing-that-is-not-Laataazin. Why couldn’t I feel you?

Laataazin presses their hand to their chest and feels relief, relief, vast enough to swallow the sun.

I thought I had lost you, the prisoner thinks.

Come to me, longs the other.

What force on Tamriel could resist a plea like that? To Solstheim it is and kneeling in the hot ash Laataazin feels the sky all around them open up and his presence close in like breath on their neck.

You are so much louder here, Laataazin tells him, their steps still wobbly from the boat.

You walk on my land now, Miraak replies, and what a wonder to know his name, to touch with travel-sore body land his own has walked, see with dust-stung eyes what his has seen. I grow ever nearer to you.

You did not need to enslave these people, Laataazin thinks at the Tree Stone, watching empty-eyed cultists and blankened reavers work on towering edifices of stone. The mumbling figures remind them of Sovngarde, that terrible emptiness where once a gnawing pain sat. I am here.

I did not think you would come. Miraak’s admission is grudging, a little bitter. But as Laataazin walks through the stone doors of the temple, they hear the clatter of tools dropping, and the shouts of startled reavers.

Laat grins, feels it mark their face wide and feral. Put your best panties on then, for I shall see you soon.

Do not keep me waiting any longer. His pain is audible in the bones that house their heart, his impatience like whips licking the soles of their feet, his eagerness like teeth to their neck. Laataazin opens the Book, and there he is.

“You are shorter than I expected,” is what the soul-of-their-soul tells them, towering over them, crowned in blue and gold like fearless god and dripping ink like blood.

“And you are as obnoxious as I predicted,” Laataazin says, but already they are approaching him, and he does not move away but flinches when their hands meet his chest.

They bear together his pain from centuries of untouched isolation, the nerves awakened by another that burn like needles and dragon-fire, and they bear together the pleasure too, found in smoothing gauntleted hands over thick robes, found in solidity, presence.

I would touch you like this everywhere you could bear it, then more, Laataazin thinks, and their hands come away inkstained when they lift them to cup the golden mask, which tilts, as if its wearer has flinched again at the thought whispered into the ear of his mind like a promise.

The prince that Laataazin favours most is not cunning Mephala who whispers to them in Whiterun, nor Hermeaus Mora, who believes himself masterful gardener of all, but ruby-red Sanguine, who with a gift of a loving if unconventional wife found in a night of revelry wins anew with each feathered kiss their loyalty. It is therefore Miraak who tears himself from this indulgence of touch first, and takes a few steps back. The words of fate are a well-settled cloak employing the ruthless machine of purpose.

“And so the First meets the Last at the summit of Apocrypha,” Miraak says, ringing, proud. “Tell me, did you enjoy the dregs of my destiny?”

“If you had not turned from your fate to kill Alduin, I would not have awoken,” Laataazin replies, dryly, “so to some extent, yes. To other extents, fuck you.”

“That same fate decrees you must die for me to win my freedom.” Miraak’s mask is expressionless, but Laataazin does not need it – they can feel through the glass of body-barriers the surge and roil of the infection of wounds thousands of years untreated, the bitterness, the fear. It has beat within their heart from the very first moment of their waking in Helgen, as their grief, their loss, burns like wildfires in his.

“Freedom?” says one prisoner to another. “What freedom is this? Aren’t you tired of being what they ask of you? Haven’t you paid the price?”

“Do you not feel how the world has warped around you since you awoke?” Miraak’s hand is tightening on his sword hilt, but he does not draw. “You cannot die, you do not sleep, you are not real, or you alone exist – there can only be one Dragonborn.”

“We will both be free,” Laataazin asserts.

“Time, and reality, would not survive us both,” Miraak says, but Laataazin knows their dragon-soul, and knows he is hungry, hungry, and tired of cages.

Boldly, Laataazin reaches out. Miraak takes their hand, masked eyes searching, like he is a man on open water clinging to the uncertain shelter of driftwood.

“That is Akatosh’s problem,” says Laataazin, “I choose to have you.”

#hi syd let me know if you want me to take this down #inkwrites #laataazin #miraak #laataazin/miraak #this is kinda disgustingly fluffy #and self-indulgent #skyrim #tes

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