#the ones that go 'she was not interested in politics but joined the lodge at philippa's invitation' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mooniefics · 4 years ago

Text

— beck and call

pairings : yelena / fem reader

word count : 10.2k

tags : one-sided relationship, lowkey master / servant dynamic, eventual smut, mild body worship, dom / sub undertones, power imbalance

warnings : contains nsfw, mildly dub-con at some points, yelena being physically rough w you for disobedience

summary : serving as yelena's personal guard turned out to yield many unexpected consequences.

to say that you were unnerved by the task of guarding an anti-marleyan volunteer would be an understatement.

you hadn't quite digested the fact there even existed a world beyond the walls that had towered over you for your entire life, looming high in the sky like a reminder that you would be trapped, penned like an animal for the rest of your prospective future. that had been your initial motivation to become a soldier, to at least advance to a garrison position where you could have a taste of exclusive information regarding what lay beyond the stone and metal bearings. but in the final year of your basic training, everything had changed. there were talks of outlandish things, of traitors from another land that had hidden amongst the native people, talks of islands and foreign soil and something more than the confines of the walls.

upon graduating, you had ultimately chosen the scouting legion, seeing how the garrison was quickly being disbanded and the remaining soldiers that hadn't stepped into their early days of retirement were joining the aforementioned regiment. the benefits only seemed to become greater and greater with the extinction of titans, the whispers of allies and retribution and rebuilding a lost legacy of your people. but somehow, all that novel luster had become muted, completely darkened by the imposing presence of this singular individual seated before you. you had only been debriefed on their name and role in military operations before your assignment, leaving you worryingly unprepared for arguably the most important assignment of your career.

the sound of your name passing from your squad leader's lips grounded you, the formal introduction quickly drawing to a close as he relayed the information to the striking foreigner. "she will be your personal escort for the remainder of your stay. if you have any questions regarding the island, feel free to ask her at any time."

"wonderful." their voice was rich, smooth with confidence and underlined with something unfamiliar—it was the way their lips rounded out the first syllable, or perhaps the way they spoke from the depths of their throat.

you felt your back stiffen as they rose from their seat, somehow rising taller and taller, their stature reaching much higher than anyone you'd ever met. immediately, your right hand clamped into a fist, thudding over your heart as your left arm hooked behind your back, spitting out your full name and designation just as you had while saluting hundreds of times. "i'm incredibly grateful for this opportunity to occupy you. thank you for all that you and the volunteers have done for paradis."

you were shocked that your voice hadn't quivered with the way their eyes dragged down your body, grey and barren of any emotion besides a hint of intrigue, sharp features framed by short, fair hair. they were strikingly handsome, masculine yet feminine at the same time, an indiscernible sort of beauty that perplexed and enthralled you.

"no need to thank me, soldier." whether they were assuring or commanding you, you didn't know, only cognizant of how they nearly purred out your title. swallowing, you lowered your hands, standing at ease and forcing yourself to not look to your superior for encouragement.

"then i shall show you to your lodgings. please follow me."

you forced yourself to turn your back to them and take a step, then another, mentally counting them one by one until you reached the door. you could hear their heavy footfalls following behind you, the distance steadily beginning to close until you forced your own pace to quicken. on the silent walk out of the management building, you had found a speed that worked, one long stride of theirs equaling two of yours, leaving you straining to keep a comfortable yet polite space between the both of you. you risked a glance back, having to crane your head up to catch a glimpse of their face. they had been staring idly at the back of your head, meeting your eyes when you turned to briefly face them, the moment cut short by your own haste to fix your view back onto the path before you.

"how shall i address you?" you attempted to fill the cool void of discomfort that had suddenly settled in the air around you, shoulders tense and brow taut.

"anything works."

their answer offered nothing in return to your inquiry, the faint image of their face flitting across your mind. you hadn't looked at them long enough to commit their features to memory, but you had looked enough to remember their startlingly cold eyes, angular nose and full lips, sharp jaw and heavy brow.

"m-miss yelena?" you attempted, fighting the urge to nervously fidget or give away any sign of your unease.

"if it suits you." was their final reply before the two of you fell silent once again.

the lack of discussion persisted through the remainder of the journey, the only sounds occupying the space being the fall of your boots against the ground and the jingle of your keyring that you drew from your pocket to unlock the front door. you stood aside to hold it open as she walked in, feeling an odd sensation flutter in the pit of your stomach when she had to duck under the frame to enter. the housing itself wasn't extravagant, only a single open room with a desk, bookshelf, dresser, kitchenette, bed, and a small bathroom area to the side to occupy the space, the ceiling seeming much lower than it was due to yelena's formidable height. she looked out at the room, flicking a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, face neutral and inexpressive.

"how quaint," she turned to face you, a prick of unease making your posture pin-straight once again, "is there any reason they've put us volunteers away from the main soldier barracks?"

your mind suddenly went blank at the worst of times, unknowing of the exact answer but knowing you had to over something in response. "s-simply for your comfort. we wouldn't like it to seem as if we don't trust you to stay on your own."

"ah, so considerate of you." for the first time she smiled, a barely-there tilt at the corner of her lips that made your heart stutter, "then i'll be sure to make myself at home."

she stepped slowly over to the bookshelf, dragging her fingers over the backs of the books with an apparent interest. you stayed standing where you were, unsure if you should leave then or wait a bit longer for just the right moment. something about her presence was unnerving, but there was also an undeniable allure that you almost gravitated to, despite her being a stranger.

"do you need anything else?" you piped up, letting your hands link behind your back, fingers twisting together.

"not that i can think of." each word seemed scripted, as if she'd practiced this entire conversation a dozen times before it'd ever happened.

"then i'll be on my way." you shakily smiled in an attempt to seem put together, hoping that she didn't immediately see through the weak front, "i'll be back in a couple of hours to escort you to dinner."

you bowed and took your leave, almost desperate to escape her all-consuming gaze and find refuge outside her line of sight. but even after you'd shut the door behind you and stepped off the porch, well on your way down the path you'd taken, you could still feel how her eyes had examined every fine detail of your stance, analyzing every shift and subtle movement you made with a calculating look. deep down, you already knew that this position would be completely exhausting from the get-go.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you had fulfilled your typical nightly routine—fetch yelena from her quarters to escort her to the cafeteria, go your separate ways and sit at your usual tables after getting food, finish your dinner with five minutes to spare in the dining hour to go inform yelena that it was time for her to wrap up her meal so you could take her back. she'd followed you down the usual path, now lit with newly placed street lamps that turned on after the sun sunk below the horizon and night fell. there had been nothing out of the ordinary, aside from the way the volunteer table had eyed you with a formerly absent intrigue when you came to speak to yelena.

that comfortable distance you'd kept between the two of you had slowly been narrowing over the last few days, a development which had peaked both your curiosity and your anxiety. while you still kept yourself a few paces ahead of her, you could feel how close her presence had become, an almost physical weight that settled itself over your back and urged you to walk faster and faster to escape its grasp. but you knew that she was all too good at reading your body language, somehow having familiarized herself with even the finest idiosyncrasies that incriminated you in just about a month, an understanding that had only grown deeper as more and more time had passed. although you felt as if you'd gained the upper hand for a few days when you realized that she always let a bit of emotion slip in her large, ashen eyes when you said something just enough out of the ordinary to catch her interest, any progress you thought you'd made was quickly squandered by her own advancements. today was no different, another morning and afternoon filled with dodging the occasional pervasive question from her about the simplest of things.

were you an only child? had you been closer to your mother or father when you were younger? did you join the scouts to explore the world or because you simply found no value in living out your life doing something different? they had started out with an ambiguous end-goal, but slowly evolved into even more unprofessional matters—attempts to provoke a discussion about your love life, what you might look for in a prospective partner, whether you wanted to settle down after you retired or stay unattached for the remainder of your life.

you always dodged, and she always let up for a while, lulling you into a sense of safety that was always broken by that same question again, worded differently but asking for an answer that was the same as the last. the more you ran from her company, the more she seemed to push it upon you, pleased when you would slip up and get flustered when she caught you off guard. so you held your ground this evening, even when your fingers quivered at the realization that she was practically peering over your shoulder, watching you unlock the door to her quarters with just barely enough space separating you to not feel her breath fanning down the back of your neck.

you quickly opened the door and began moving to hold it open for her like you always did, but felt a large hand resting at your shoulder, prompting you to quickly spin on your heel to face her. she was usually finished with her casual interrogating by this hour, which was why you were more than surprised to see that she was staring down at you, having lowered yourself to your level enough for you to not have to tilt your head completely back to meet her eye.

you took an instinctive step back, flinching at the sound of the door falling shut behind you, effectively caging you in between it and the woman before you. pale, dangerously alert irises traversed your expression, drinking in every small feature that had been drawn back into a confused look, stomach already knotting into a twisted tangle of warmth and icy panic.

"are you afraid of me?"

the immediate answer sat on the tip of your tongue, lips parting to deliver the lie you had ready for such an inquiry. but something in her eyes spoke to you, silently, warning you not to give into dishonesty. you couldn't possibly admit to still being fearful of her, not when you were meant to be the powerful one in this relationship. you weren't supposed to say yes, but you also found yourself unable to lie as you always did, not when the path you'd walked with her was still worryingly empty and you felt the hard wood of the door now pressing unforgivingly into your back with each minuscule step back.

"sh-should i be?" you cursed your stammer, betraying your evident lack of control, the only redeeming aspect being the non-committal implication that responding with another question held.

that seemed to throw her off a bit, owlish eyes slowly blinking at you as she thought. even up close like this, you couldn't identify a single flaw in her appearance—pale skin smooth like porcelain, unconcerned by any sort of natural imperfections, hair like fine silk and eyes piercingly bright, yet clouded like a stormy sky. you squeaked at a hand seizing your collar, right hand instinctively flying down to the scabbard strapped around your thigh, clammy palm shakily clenching around the hilt of your blade, the other clamping firmly around her wrist.

she only smirked at the presumed threat, pressing herself even closer to you, enough that you could feel the radiant heat of her lips just barely grazing your own. you suppressed the trembling threatening to shake through your every limb, beginning to feel lightheaded with the effort to contain your quickening breaths, swallowing down your dread, forcing yourself to meet her gaze when she spoke.

"if it suits you. it doesn't affect me either way, does it?"

you just barely shook your head side to side, not realizing you were rising up onto your tiptoes until she pulled you forward that last inch by your shirt, eyes falling shut as her lips melded easily against yours. an inexplicable warmth flourished in your chest, heart tripping up to match the frantic speed of your thoughts, fingers clenching around her slender, clothed wrist. you forced yourself back with a sharp intake of breath, backing yourself far enough into the door that you could feel the wood digging into the small of your back.

"m-miss yelena, you can't—!"

she didn't allow you to finish, tugging you back to your previous position with a low huff, the faint snap of a stitch popping somewhere on your collar going unregarded as you let out a small noise of surprise, wide eyes relenting and squeezing shut. a voice in the back of your mind screamed for you to draw your knife, push her away, force her into her quarters, anything but just standing there and allowing her to exert such a humiliating power over you. but it was so much easier to sink into her grasp, to feel her fingers slowly relax and hold you at a comfortable height rather than force you up, to allow the hot flush of an unknown intimacy to settle deep into your skin.

you'd been kissed before, it wasn't as if she stole your first chance from you, but it had never been like this. you had only brushed the surface of gentle pecks and lingering hands on the other's face until you both giggled and pulled away, never faced with such a certain confidence that almost frightened you more than it allured you, an unspoken order that left you at her mercy rather than on equal footing. and though you'd all but forgotten about your initial rejection, yelena had not, chastising you with a firm bite to your lower lip that drew a less-than-composed whimper from the back of your throat.

"i would advise you to not dictate what i can and cannot do in the future." she stated firmly, tone devoid of any personal inflection, barely pulling away enough for you to meet her stare, hand tightening around your collar once more, "understood?"

"y-yes, miss yelena." you barely whispered, nodding affirmatively. a flicker of amusement momentarily lightened her expression when you drew your tongue over the aching skin of your lips, the taste of faint copper and black tea clinging to your taste buds.

she slowly slackened her grip, not even so much as blinking as she straightened her posture and reached past you to open the door, allowing you a moment to scamper out of her path and pull your shirt back into place with trembling hands. "then, you are dismissed, soldier."

she didn't spare you a second glance before proceeding into her quarters, shutting the door behind her without another word. you stood dumbly for a moment, licking over your bottom lip once more, just then realizing how shallow and quick your breathing was. you steadied yourself enough to lock her door, shaking away the mental fog of such an abrupt change of scenery, pulling your jacket tighter around you to make up for the lack of her warmth pressing into you, confused as to why you had just allowed yourself to be ordered around by the individual that you were meant to be keeping in check. the walk back to your dorm was blurry at best, a few good-nights from your colleagues that prompted a hum of acknowledgement, thankfully nothing that required you to recount your daily fulfilled duties or anything past a few minutes prior.

even after you'd shed your clothes, pointedly ignoring how wrinkled your shirt front had become, cleaned yourself up and crawled into the isolated comfort of your bed, you found yourself unable to sleep. perhaps you could learn from this experience, remind yourself at all times to put even more distance between the two of you. maybe you would have to stop conversing with her so casually, or perhaps your best option would be to cut your losses and request an assignment change, consequences or record mark-ups be damned. but as you tossed and turned on your mattress, burying your face into your pillows and trying to rid your skin of any memory of her touch, a voice at the back of your head ceaselessly murmured, a rambled premonition of more turbulence to come.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

this day marked five weeks since the initial incident, there had been no activity like it since—although you couldn't say whether you thought that was a bad thing or not. not to say that you hadn't been keeping your distance, the first few days were spent cautiously looking over your shoulder, making sure to keep her even further than arm's length but still close enough to guarantee that she couldn't slip away on her own. she behaved respectfully enough, although she herself seemed to be acting as if nothing had even happened, greeting you like normal and allowing you to escort her to meals and strategy meetings when necessary, despite how she'd affirmed that you weren't to give her any orders.

you hadn't reported the infraction to any superiors, knowing that you would get caught up in an unnecessary fuss that might even get you stuck at the bottom of the ranking list once again, an unthinkable outcome that only made you sure that the right decision was to keep your mouth shut. the previous afternoon was the first time yelena had made a special request, describing how unfortunate it was that she was lacking just a few proper amenities that would really make her lodgings "feel just like home". your persistent hesitance had eased after the first week of safety, and you fulfilled your responsibility of maintaining her comfort by arriving early this morning, toting a small bag of a dark ground powder and cups.

you were surprised to see that yelena was already awake upon your arrival, seated at a table that looked far too small for her, reading one of the many books from her provided bookshelf. you exchanged polite greetings, her not rising from her place until you'd lit the fire beneath the stove and set out a plate and cup for her at the counter, stowing away the rest in whatever free space you could find. you stood by while she took care of making whatever it was she wanted herself, noting the fragrant richness that had filled the air upon her steeping the powder in heated water.

"they only serve black tea in the cafeteria," she said, speaking to no one in particular, plucking a ladle from the utensil rack, "it's been ages since i had a cup of coffee in the morning."

the heat of the stove was beginning to warm the room, prompting you to shed your jacket and place it on the back of the chair yelena had not been previously seated at. your shirt beneath it was more forgiving, a thin material that had always hung a bit loosely from your shoulders, great for the hotter days when you were still expected to be in uniform.

"have you ever had a cup of coffee?" her voice interrupted your meandering stream of thought, the sound of liquid being poured into a cup faintly catching your attention.

"no, i don't think i have."

"would you like to try some?"

the offer stoked the spark of bothersome curiosity, the scent filling the air and mingling with the ambient sound of crackling wood and the feel of the hot air making you want to accept. perhaps this was her way of making amends, or just doing something pleasant for the worker that she was made to follow behind like their second shadow.

"if it's not too much trouble, then.."

"of course it isn't."

you felt a light sweat beginning to bead down your back, pulling your handkerchief from your pocket and dabbing at your neck. this space wasn't properly suited for a stove to be used, seeing as the unlatching mechanisms on the window had been removed for the sake of thwarting any sort of curfew breaking by the volunteers, meaning there was little ventilation aside from the small chimney extending out of the kitchenette area. you stole a glance at yelena, now opening the cabinet that you had strained to reach with ease.

the memory of her hand fisting your shirt, the collar that now hugged just the slightest bit looser at the base of your neck, the long healed-over bite that had left the soft flesh of your lips feeling raw for the following few days. the external heat of the still burning stove was only intensified by the flush climbing up to your cheeks, the desire to release a button or two on your shirt and free some of your skin to the open air becoming undeniable. it felt a bit ironic that the one time you'd properly stepped into her quarters for more than a quick minute to help her get something sorted was the one time the tension that always hung in the air between the two of you was replaced by something tangibly suffocating, the sweltering heat that made you kick off your blankets in the dreary silence at night when the recollection of her kiss relentlessly looped in your mind and chased away any thought of sleep.

you hooked a finger on the collar of your shirt, gently tugging it to the side to absentmindedly press the soft cloth over the skin, wiping away any bothersome perspiration that would leave you uncomfortable by the time you were allowed to change out of your uniform and shower it away.

"what's that?" your eyes darted up at her question, catching sight of the two plated teacups in her hands before you met her gaze.

"i beg your pardon?" you asked meekly.

"that. at your shoulder." you glanced down to where your handkerchief had previously been.

"oh, do you mean this?" she nodded when you pointed to the raised line of skin marring your shoulder, a thick scar that you'd stopped fussing over after realizing that it was an inevitable outcome. "it's a scar," you clarified, tucking your personal cloth back in your pocket, "just about everyone in the military has the same one."

she didn't respond, but held your gaze as she proceeded to the table to set the cups down. you'd become more accustomed to these silent requests, and you knew that she was telling you to continue.

"you work with the equipment engineers, right?" she nodded. "then you've seen our harnesses. all those leather straps end up digging into our skin and leaving scars pretty much all over. although, i did practice on the omnidirectional gear a bit more than all the other recruits during basic training to increase my proficiency, so mine may be deeper.."

you tensed as she approached, slow, deliberate steps steadily closing the distance between the two of you until she was right in front of you. she had started stooping down more often around you, only when she was directly addressing you alone, but it was something that you noticed all the same. a part of you wanted to feel offended, that she thought it necessary to lower yourself to your level as if you were beneath her in a way besides physical stature, but you couldn't deny that you enjoyed the exclusive treatment. she never seemed concerned with doing any sort of thing with anyone else—not with her colleagues, not with other soldiers of or below your ranking, not with any of your own superiors, only you. in a way, it made you feel acknowledged.

"could i see?"

"huh?" was your unprofessional response, but she didn't allow you any time to correct it.

"your scars. where else do you have them?"

"oh." you swallowed, forcing yourself to look up into her steely eyes, "well, i have them on the soles of my feet, and around my thighs, mostly around my torso."

a hand on your abdomen made your back go stiff, her touch pressing lightly over your shirt. "here?"

you nodded, small and timid before her, a trickle of sweat beginning to slide down your back. you realized that you had never had to look down at yelena, not until this present moment where she had knelt down on one knee in front of you, holding your gaze for just a moment before she undid a single button from the bottom of your shirt, glancing up at you as if to check for any sign of refusal before she undid another, then another.

there was nothing forceful about her motions today, nimble fingers patiently unfastening each clasp with care until your shirt revealed your midsection. one slender hand pulled aside the cotton fabric, the other reaching out, just barely grazing the skin of your stomach where the long, pale scar from your utility belt stretched horizontally across your body. her fingertips were warm from handling the kitchenware, but the shiver that crawled up your spine was cold, almost electric, a strange sensation squeezing around your heart and lungs, making each breath quicker than the last.

"was it painful?" she asked quietly, a tinge of earnesty lining her words, features entirely relaxed as they always were.

you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding, voice barely reaching a whisper. "yes."

she focused her eyes onto the marred skin, following the raised line of flesh to your sides, brow cinching upwards the slightest bit at the sight of another carving down your waist, following the curvature of your ribs.

"what resilience.." she murmured, free hand returning to undo the remaining buttons of your shirt, "determination is such a beautiful trait, don't you think?" her eyes flitted up to meet yours, sharp and observant, fingers gingerly wrapping around your waist, thumb stroking down your lumbar. "for most, i have to hear it in their voice, or through their words—but it has always been different with you." she pulled a button free. "i see it in your eyes, the way you carry yourself, it's written all over your body." another undone button, you could feel the warmth of her breath fanning across your stomach, the graze of her fingertips tracing up your side and halting at the cloth wrappings over your breasts. "are there more under this?"

your knees felt a few flattering words away from buckling, each gentle touch making the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. you nodded, lips parting to take in a much-needed deep breath, realizing that your shirt was now completely open, exposing the entirety of your scarred torso aside from what remained covered by your chest bindings. your fingers curled into your palm, trembling, just then noticing how soft yelena's hands were in comparison to your own, absent of callous and work-roughened skin. you bit at the inside of your cheek, blinking down at her as you watched a thin finger trace the seam of the cloth, finding the tucked end within moments and gently pulling it free.

a few loud knocks at the door were startling enough to make you jump, head snapping to the side to face the front of the house, a muffled call of your last name from the other side making an anxious knot twist painfully tight deep in your gut. you quickly stepped away, leaving yelena kneeling on the floor, struggling to button up your shirt without even bothering to fix your chest cloth. as soon as you'd gotten yourself situated, you opened the door to find your squad leader awaiting you on the other side.

"is everything alright? breakfast started five minutes ago."

you hoped that the disbelief on your face could be taken as the expression of someone who had simply lost track of time. "i apologize, sir! m-miss yelena put in a request for marleyan coffee yesterday, and i was simply waiting for her to finish before i escorted her to the cafeteria."

you forced yourself to stay composed, trying to focus on the impassive face of your squad leader. there was a stark difference between the emotionlessness of yelena and that of everyone else around you, she somehow made her lack of any sort of feeling or warmth a beautiful kind of coldness, unlike the unnatural stoicism of your superiors. you saw his mouth open to reply, but you were both surprised by a sudden presence behind you, a firm hand at your shoulder, his eyes moving from looking down at you to looking up at the woman behind you, a flicker of genuine unease flitted across his hardened features.

"please don't fault her for my lack of punctuality," she said, a false sincerity lightening her usual low tone, "i simply wanted to enjoy a taste of home, is all. is my presence imperative?"

"i was only making sure everyone was accounted for." your squad leader asserted, staring up at her in an obvious attempt to intimidate that you knew would fail, "as long as you're being properly monitored, do as you please."

"understood." her fingers curled around your shoulder, gently urging you back, away from the door, "then i won't dawdle any longer, i'll join you all in the cafeteria momentarily."

yelena shut the door for you as soon as you took a step back, waiting until the steps of your squad leader had descended off of the porch and disappeared down the path before speaking to you. "i do hope i didn't get you in trouble."

you turned on your heel to face her, feeling a slight flutter in your chest at the sight of her already having lowered herself to your height. "oh, no, you don't have to worry about that.. he's always been a bit on the uptight side of things."

the corners of her lips perked up into the faintest smile before she proceeded back to the table, pressing a finger to the side of one of the teacups. "the coffee's gone cold now. my apologies for the distraction."

distraction, the wry thought flitted across your mind. you guessed that word was suitably to describe allowing her to nearly undress you before the sun had even fully risen in the sky. this was becoming a dangerous game, an ever-lengthening round of cat and mouse, and each day that passed made your more and more certain that you were the one who was running despite your inherent position of power over her. there was something absolutely captivating about her, whether it be the air of mystery that no amount of questions could dispel, or the way that she could practically bring you to your knees with just a few careful words—the more thought you put into it, the more instances of appeal that you seemed to find that only made you want to sink deeper and deeper into the depths that was her subtle control over you.

"i just don't want us to arrive late and miss out on anything." you said lamely, empty words to fill the air as you moved across the room to grab your jacket.

"perhaps another time." she replied, removing the dishes from the table to deposit them in the sink, leaving you with that sole promise that insinuated much more than just another cup of coffee.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"miss yelena, i don't know if we're allowed to be in this section of the building—"

"no one has stopped us yet, have they?" yelena didn't turn back to address you, only continuing forward with that long stride that took two quick steps of your own to match.

she was correct in the regard that no one had questioned her presence in the west wing of the management building, and the few that had begun to object stopped immediately upon catching sight of you following obediently behind her. you felt a bit like a prop, being used as almost a badge of clearance by the one and only individual that you were meant to keep from unauthorized locations such as this one. but her flat assertion that she had important business that gave you nothing in the way of information of direction before she'd taken off for the barracks, leaving you only able to chase after her and hope that no one figured out that she wasn't supposed to be there in the event that she truly wasn't meant to be.

you didn't have long to ruminate on your circumstances before you arrived at a door flanked by a single soldier, a young man that you recognized as someone affiliated with the more well-known soldiers from the 104th graduating class. though you didn't recall his name, you nodded politely to him as he opened the door for yelena, trailing closely behind her while still trying to peek around her slender frame. it was one of the smaller meeting rooms, a large window providing a fair amount of natural illumination down onto the round table, the sole occupant being another one of the anti-marleyan volunteers.

"glad to see you could make it." onyankopon smiled broadly up at yelena, his warm gaze flitting to you momentarily before traveling back to his associate, "no trouble, i assume?"

"none at all." she replied as she took a seat at the head of the table, looking as if she belonged there more than any of the superiors you'd seen seated there, "this one made sure no one interrupted our trip."

you flushed at the praise, standing pin straight beside her chair, hands lowering from behind your back to at your sides, trying not to let the enjoyment of her commendation show on your face. he turned his attention to you, inspiring a quick skip of your heart, fingers tapping nervously at your thighs.

"it's great to hear that yelena has been treating you well." he said matter-of-factly, but a cocked eyebrow and tilt of his head seemed to request a verbal confirmation of his statement.

you blinked, your words catching in your throat as your eyes involuntarily glanced to yelena, an instinctive desire to hold your tongue in the face of speaking about her, an odd sort of insecurity concerning your character flaring in your chest. but that split second of silence was all that she needed to take up the task of answering onyankopon, planting an elbow down on the tabletop and resting her chin in her palm.

"i have been treating her well." she affirmed, almost sounding bored, tilting her head to address you as she reached out and took the hand of yours that was closest to her, drawing it close to her face as she examined your expression, "isn't that right?"

you swallowed, mouth dry, nodding at yelena before remembering that you were meant to be answering onyankopon. "oh, y-yes. miss yelena has been very easy to work with."

pale eyes glimmered at your positive answer, mouth twitching upwards into that rare, barely noticeable smile. you felt your heart jump into your throat as she brought her lips to your knuckles, planting a soft, brief kiss over the back of your hand before gently placing it down at your side. she looked at you as if she knew exactly what you were thinking, like she could hear that unspoken worry of whether she should be doing this in front of her colleague, like she was giving the silent reply that she could do as she pleased.

"then, shall we begin?" onyankopon's voice brought you back to the present, shooting you another momentary glance before fixing his eyes on yelena.

"oh, right." she turned back to you, "be a dear and leave us for a moment to chat."

the mix of confusion at her request and surprise at the affectionate title halted your thoughts. "i'm sorry, miss yelena, but i don't think i'm allowed to do that."

your heart sank as you watched a look of annoyance draw across her features, large eyes narrowing, brow knitting together. she didn't speak for a moment, almost like she was waiting for you to take back your refusal and head on your way without any further discussion. when you did neither, she frowned, reaching out her hand once more, her fingers drawing up your palm to wrap around your wrist.

you nearly yelped as she clinched her grasp almost painfully tight, thumb pressing down hard over the bone at the side of your wrist, nails digging in your skin. her voice was low when she spoke, dangerously commanding and castigating, each word carefully enunciated.

"i said go."

only after you'd earnestly nodded did she release you, allowing you to scamper out of the room, blinking away the tears that had begun to well in your eyes from your stinging skin and the way she'd spoken to you. you took your place at the side of the door unoccupied by the soldier you'd seen before entering, fingers shakily tracing over the underside of your wrist.

though you weren't bleeding, the skin felt raw and irritated, your pulse racing fast in your veins. perhaps it wasn't so bad that you'd left them in there on their own, seeing as the older, more experienced guard was also standing by, well aware that there was no one monitoring them in the meeting room. so you obediently stood and waited, straining to make out coherent words from their muffled voices, contemplating why seeing yelena upset with you was so distressing.

why had you allowed her to order you around? why had you even complied with her demands instead of outright refusing like you were supposed to? why were you worried that she would still be angry with you by the time she walked out of that meeting room? you couldn’t understand what concerned you so deeply about what yelena thought of you, but somehow, the overbearing silence of the empty hallway made it even more difficult to wrap your head around your thoughts. you were so wrapped up in your panicked attempt at contemplation that you didn’t even notice the sound of their footsteps approaching from the other side of the door, only torn from your mind when the door opened from beside you. the two marleyans emerged, laughing affably together, exchanging temporary farewells until they could see each other at dinner that evening.

you looked up at her anxiously, wishing she’d spare you a glance for even just a moment instead of keeping her gaze fixed on the only other individuals populating the space. you hid your hands behind your back rather than in your pockets, knowing that it’d look horrendously unprofessional. but before you could worry about anyone catching sight of the reddened marks, the familiar soldier addressed you directly.

“i do look forward to working more closely with you in the future, i don’t believe we’ve met before. ” he said, outstretching a hand for you to shake, “floch forster.”

you quickly tugged the sleeve of your coat over your injured wrist, grasping his hand and giving a firm up and down, only offering your own name and a polite nod in return. you didn’t exactly know what he meant by working together in the future, but you assumed that it was in reference to your shared position of personal guards to marleyan volunteers.

you tensed at the familiar weight of a hand on your shoulder, feeling a firm squeeze that you knew all too well. “then we shall be going now. come.”

you immediately complied, giving a brief goodbye to the two men before proceeding quickly behind yelena, practically at her heels as the two of you walked further and further down the hall, shrouded in another bout of tense silence. you escorted her out of the building without issue, through the barracks and all the way to her lodgings, receiving nothing in the way of assurance or acknowledgment the entire way.

you wanted to speak up for yourself, ask if she was angered with you, anything to fill the quiet void, but you couldn't bring your mouth to push the words free. you hoped that she'd at least offer you her usual goodbye, as inherently lifeless and out of polite necessity as it may be, but it didn't come even as you unlocked the door to her quarters and held it open for her to enter, not even turning back before she sat herself at her desk and got to work on the clutter of papers occupying it.

you left her, feeling strangely heavy with defeat, unable to focus on anything for long before your mind strayed back to her upset expression, or the physical evidence of her displeasure with you. over the next hours, you constantly checked your watch, counting down the minutes to dinner, to when you'd be able to justify being in her presence and hopefully receive some sort of indicator that you were in the clear. you'd always been someone who did what was asked of you, a people pleaser—but there was something different about the inclination you felt towards yelena. it wasn't the kind of obedience that you gave to your superiors, she wasn't anything close to your superior in a technical sense, but somehow it felt natural, a servitude borne out of free will rather than one determined by ranking.

you knew you hadn't done anything wrong by denying her initially, but yet you still hoped for her forgiveness.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you quivered at the feeling of her lips sucking at the already marked skin of your neck, thighs squeezing tighter around her waist, her nails digging deep enough into them that they nearly threatened to tear the fabric of your pants. you swallowed down yet another moan, one hand working its way deeper into her short hair, the other clenching tightly to the fabric of her barely-buttoned dress shirt. your soft, shuddering breaths filled the space of the open air around you, the fear of knowing your squad leader was just outside the door waiting for a reply, adjacent to the wall that she'd pushed you up against despite your meek warnings that dinner would be starting any minute now, was almost tangible in your stomach.

she pulled away from the reddened flesh with a low hum, nipping at your ear as she demanded, "make him go away."

you barely nodded, eyes screwing shut when she began yet another bruising assault to your shoulder, not even giving you enough time to collect yourself and speak. "i apologize, s-sir. miss yelena wasn't f-feeling well, so i brought her meal h-h-here instead of escorting her to the cafeteria..!"

you nearly whimpered as her teeth sank into the soft junction between your neck and shoulder, silently praying to any higher power that may be listening for your superior to just leave already. "understood. please return the plates to the cafeteria before they close up and make it to the dormitories before curfew."

"y-yes, sir..!"

you could barely count his descending steps down the porch over the sound of your own blood roaring in your ears, only completely assured of his absence when she sighed against your skin, soothing the ache with a few apologetic licks, pressing her lips everywhere they could reach. you often found yourself recalling the first time this had happened, when the two of you were sitting at the table in her quarters and she had been apologizing for the day she'd ordered you out of the meeting room. you could still remember how her touch had trailed from stroking at your wrist, crescent nail prints still occupying your skin, to cupping your face, drawing you close to kiss her again and again—the heat of her proximity, how her hands had felt and caressed every inch of your body, whispering a breathless, endless stream of praises into your ear as you came apart under her.

though you had vowed to yourself that wouldn't allow it to happen again, that that night would be your first and only instance of giving into that weakness she'd slowly but surely carved into you, but you found yourself sinking into her arms when she beckoned you, sewing the buttons of your shirt back into place without complaint after the nights where she had become impatient and accidentally popped them free, staring at your naked body in the mirror after your long showers and tracing your fingers over the bruises she'd sucked and bitten into your tender skin.

she only marked you in places where you could hide them beneath your clothes, places which assured that she would be the sole individual to see them when she stripped you bare, only to add more and more. there was no set time between those late evenings, sometimes the interval would be less than a few days, and other times it would stretch out for weeks with no indication as to when the next occasion would come. but when it did, any semblance of self-restraint had completely diminished.

"you're such a good pet for me.." she cooed, her words sending a warm spark through every inch of you.

she'd become fond of calling you that, and a part of you wondered if that was all she saw you as, as only a pet or a possession. you'd accepted that she had the upper hand in this relationship, whatever it may be, but you couldn't help enjoying the feeling of being desired so deeply, being touched and admired in ways you'd never even imagined before you met her. your arms clasped tighter around her neck as she pulled you away from the wall, laying you out on her bed, taking a moment to strip out of her shirt before lowering herself on top of you.

her hands busied themselves ridding you of your chest wrappings, lips attentively traversing each inch of newly revealed skin, murmuring curses and sweet nothings that only made you squirm more beneath her, impatient and eager. you mewled when she'd finally settled her hands over her bare breast, large palms pressing into soft flesh, slender fingers pinching at your nipples. she turned her head up to kiss you, tongue outlining the seam of your lips before sliding into your mouth, claiming it as her own.

you were left panting when she pulled away despite its briefness, hazy, low-lidded eyes finding her own, intoxicated by that carnal look, dark pupils nearly overtaking the piercing grey of her irises. she only smirked at your lack of composure, dipping her head back down to suck and bite at the valley of your breasts, your fingers reflexively tightening in her hair. your hips bucked up into nothing, desperate for any sort of friction, much to yelena's amusement.

"aren't you just the neediest little thing?" she paused to lave her tongue over a pert bud, drawing another heated sigh from you as you nodded, hoping that your agreement could persuade her to not spend so much time teasing you.

she granted you the slightest relief, taking your nipple between your lips and sucking at it, the hand not occupied with another breast trailing down the scar etched into your side, following the path down to your navel to begin unbuttoning your pants. each second seemed to drag on longer than the last, and though you knew that she wasn't purposely drawing out the process of undressing you, it was still not enough. you were practically kicking your underwear to the floor by the time they made their way around your ankles, skin still burning hot despite being fully exposed to the air.

"p-please, miss yelena.." you whimpered at the feeling of her hand tracing up and down your inner thigh, occasionally stopping to stroke across the raised lines of skin that had been inscribed into your skin by the series of belts and buckles on your gear harness, but never proceeding that final inch up to where you needed it.

she pulled away to let out a low chuckle, peering up at you through dark lashes, bare chest pressed flush against your stomach. she drank in the way your face shifted as she rested the pad of her thumb over your clit, rubbing languid circles over it as her pointer finger dipped down your cunt, instantly slick with your arousal.

"you're so worked up from just that?" she taunted, speaking at barely a murmur, "or was it because somebody was listening?"

you felt the knot of anticipation drawing tight in the pit of your stomach, watching as she took her fingers in her mouth and licked over them, thighs shuddering when she returned to their previous position. "i-it was— i j-just— please.."

you could barely form a coherent thought, back arching up to urge your body as close to hers as you could manage, only cognizant of just how close you were to being relieved of that unbearable pressure welling within you. she only smiled, close-lipped and cunning, resting her head over your heaving chest.

"your heart is racing. i wonder how much faster i could make it go.."

you nearly whined as two fingers slid into you with little resistance, her mouth closing over a nipple, alternating between gently tugging at it with her teeth and flicking over it with the tip of her tongue. your hips rocked up into her hand, matching the pace of her wrist as your head dug back into the mattress, moans and incoherent pleas spilling from your parted lips.

you could feel yourself quickly approaching that rapturous peak, hands fisting the sheets under you, white stars blotting out your vision as she curled her fingers just right. you shuddered, gasping, eyes rolling aimlessly into the back of your head as the tension that had wound itself into every muscle finally released, coming completely undone beneath her. you pressed a shaking hand over your mouth, muffling the sound of your winded breaths, letting out a small noise when she relieved you of her fingers. you felt her lips grazing over your chest, forcing your head up to look at her with bleary eyes when their feather-light touch proceeded lower and lower down your stomach.

you had expected things to come to an end as they usually did, with her pulling her clothes back on before you even had the chance to see straight and gathering your own garments from the floor to hand to you, leaving you to walk back to your dormitories on trembling legs in your wrinkled uniform. but there was no sign of that immediate withdrawal as she gathered your thighs in her hands, lifting your legs up onto her shoulders as she pressed a brief kiss over your naval.

you licked your lips nervously, already more than too sensitive at just the feeling of her breath over your soaked cunt. you opened your mouth to meekly object or ask for just a moment longer to catch your breath, but she shushed you, her heavy-lidded gaze sending a fresh bout of heat across your skin. each little quiver of your thighs only made her grip fasten, unable to keep still as she kissed at the scars and soft flesh, drawing a stifled whimper when she stopped to suck a deep mark at a spot of untarnished skin.

you could see the pale expanse of yelena's back, pristine and absent of any previous traumas, the complete opposite of your own. the first time you'd see her undressed, you couldn't take your eyes off of her slender frame, lined with muscle from her days as a soldier but still so delicate. you'd never left any marks when she'd allow you to kiss at her neck and chest, only enough to see the rosy flush settle over her body, but by that time she was more than eager to get back to playing with you instead.

you took in a deep, unsteady breath, jaw clenching and stomach tightening as her tongue drew flat up the length of your cunt, a small moan breaking from your parted lips. she pressed forward, flicking the tip of her tongue over your clit in a merciless rhythm, holding your thighs apart to accommodate her presence each time they attempted to squeeze shut. you writhed over the sheets, her name slipping from you between high-pitched whines and labored breaths, minutes melting past in an incomprehensible blur, leaving you only cognizant of her tongue and hands dragging you back over that edge again and again.

by the time she'd released you, you could barely hold your eyes open, thighs aching from her fingers digging into them, throat raw from crying out for her and gasping in what never seemed to be enough air, feeling too exhausted to even think about making the walk back to your own room. but rather than hand your clothes to you in a silent cue for your departure, you watched her make her way back up the mattress to lay beside you, pulling your heavy, sweat-slicked body against her own. you couldn't try to refuse the comfort of her warmth, face pressing into her chest, breathing in her soft, clean scent, still occasionally trembling as you tentatively allowed your hands to cling to her.

you told yourself not to get comfortable, to try to regain control of your limbs by the time her sympathy for overworking you had worn off and she ordered you away for the night, but the demand never came. you felt a large hand settle at the base of your neck, another splaying across the small of your back, her chin resting on the crown of your head, holding you close like a lover would.

"you could stay for the night if you'd like." her tone was even and collected as it always was, but hushed, like she was murmuring a secret to you.

you knew that sleeping her had already far overstepped whatever boundary had been abandoned that night she'd first kissed you, the morning where she'd marveled at your body and commended your courage, every instance you'd obeyed her rather than carry out the simple orders you were given. it was already too late to tear yourself away from this presence that you'd grown so familiar with—the one that you had feared, the one that you now craved despite how you knew you shouldn't.

"thank you, miss yelena." you whispered hoarsely, curling into her, allowing your heavy eyes to close.

that would be the first and last time you ever spent the night in her quarters.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the banquet to celebrate the completion of the rail system in trost was minutes away from commencing. the speaking podium was empty for the moment, soldiers and civilians chattering amongst themselves as they waited for the military officials to gather at the stage. you were authorized to be in the private area as yelena's personal escort, seeing as she had participated in the mapping of the railroad through the district and would be acknowledged as a contributor to the advancement of paradis.

but as excited as you were to celebrate, eat good food and hopefully get a chance to drink, you weren't looking forward to transferring your position to floch forster for the remainder of the night. although, your desire to stay by yelena's side had been momentarily dissuaded by the desire to please her when she'd requested the change a few days prior. you hadn't bothered to hide your disappointment, nor did you hold back your questions.

"change to forster? but.. why?" you had asked, in the privacy of her quarters, feeling an immediate disheartening at her words.

she didn't directly respond, the hand that had been at your shoulder rising to pet at your cheek. "you trust me, don't you?"

"y-yes, but—"

"then file a request to change with him."

you couldn't explain why you had felt such a cool emptiness burrowing into your chest, a sudden spite for the other soldier beginning to fester in the back of your mind, the thought that she would choose him over you inspiring an indescribable irateness. you turned away from her hand, not thinking of how you were pouting like a child, unwilling to meet her eyes or compromise with her. you'd been fretting over how she hadn't spared you any sort of affection in the nearly two months that had passed, the fear that she'd grown tired of you an incessant whisper in your ear. but then she had reached for you, treated you gently, persuading with that hint of sincerity she rarely ever showed you.

"it would only be for the evening, i have business to attend to that night. i'm sure you've been looking forward to the celebration?" a frown tugged at your lips, only offering a small nod in reply, meeting her eyes when she guided you by your chin to face her. "then transfer with forster, have fun for the evening—you deserve it."

you couldn't help but preen under her praise, meeting her eyes, heart stuttering at the sight of her barely-there smile. you finally caved after a moment of thought, relenting to her wishes. "i'll put in a temporary transfer request tomorrow afternoon."

"thank you, dear."

despite how you weren't exactly looking forward to forster's arrival to relieve you from duty, those final words lifted your spirits just the slightest bit. perhaps she had simply been caught up in the stress of such a grand achievement, too busy attending meetings with engineers and generals and event staff to make any spare time for you for the past weeks. you had waited for weeks before, you could continue waiting if need be. you were at her beck and call, and as long as it pleased her, you were perfectly fine doing as such.

you let out a soft sigh at the sigh of floch forster approaching, weaving through the scattered crowd with a stoic, dutiful look plastered across his expression.

"good evening, floch." yelena said from beside you.

he replied with a polite good evening to both you and her, adding your name as more of an afterthought than anything, but turning his focus back to you when you still hadn't stepped away. "you can go, i'll take it from here."

your gaze flickered over to yelena, feeling yourself relax as she nodded to you, a hand resting at your shoulder to gently urge you forward. "i'll see you tomorrow morning. enjoy yourself tonight."

so you took your leave, watching the ceremony in the company of your fellow soldiers, eyes always wandering away from the speaker and to yelena at the side of the stage. the speech concluded, the crowd cheered and applauded, and everyone was directed to the banquet hall where the remainder of the event would be held. you watched yelena and floch walk off the stage with the other officials, becoming distracted for just a moment speaking to someone but having lost sight of them by the time you looked back.

you didn't see yelena for the remainder of the night, but you did as you were told, enjoying the good food, talking to your friends, avoiding any alcohol in preparation for your usual early morning. it was all over quite quickly, and the next morning came and went, business as usual for the remainder of the next few days—then came the news of eren jaeger's disappearance, then the plans of the all-hands-on-deck operation that was to be the retrieval effort for the young man, the entire scouting branch thrown into overdrive.

and, though you never mustered the courage to ask, you felt a sinking feeling deep inside, that yelena's nightly errand with floch and eren's absence were somehow connected, that there was much more going behind the scenes that you couldn't even begin to fathom.

just wanted to give u guys a little gift for my birthday (´･ᴗ･ ` )

#yelena #snk yelena #yelena x reader #yelena x reader smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk x y/n #snk x you #aot x you #aot x reader smut #snk x reader smut #yelena brainrot #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction

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aegor-bamfsteel · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! I'm a fan of Dorne, a supporter of Aegon VI, so I don't see much reason to join the fandom, but I've spent enough time to find Aegon Blackfyre having horrible deaths. I often see R's attitudes justified, since then I think there's a lot more to rebellions than what's been presented so far. That said, how do you think Rohanne and Daemon's first date went? How did she feel at court? Or your wedding? The reaction to childbirth? Anything about both of them, please!

By the power invested in me as a member of the ASOIAF fandom (aka: none), I give you, Anonymous, the right to enjoy whatever characters you want to so long as you abide by proper fandom etiquette (don’t tag hate, don’t send anon hate, try not to vagueblog, etc). In all seriousness, just because you are a fan of Aegon VI and Dorne doesn’t mean you are obligated to dislike the Blackfyres. Personally, I like some aspects of Dorne (though I think its writing could be better) and I don’t think Aegon VI is a Blackfyre. We’re all different people, so the many characters of ASOIAF will impact us differently. If you feel that your fandom circle obliges you to hide your personal opinions of a character/setting for fear of being ostracized, then that circle has become toxic and I recommend you leave it. If you’re interested in reblogging neutral to positive content on the Blackfyres, you should be able to do so without reprisal. Discourse on fictional characters should never devolve to the extent that real people are harmed.

Now that the PSA part of the ask is done with, let’s get into your questions on Rohanne. I’m pretty excited you decided to ask me, because I don’t get a lot of asks on her since @xenowlsome decided to take a break from fandom, and she’s still one of the most interesting minor characters of the era due to her place in the story. She and Daemon seemed to have had one of the happier marriages in Westeros despite just 12 years together; I’ve previously compared them to Ned/Cat in how they were strangers when they wed, but had a successful political marriage in building their love “stone by stone” (tragic ending aside).

Answers to your Daemon/Rohanne questions under the cut:

How did Daemon and Rohanne’s first date go? A lot of my experience with ASOIAF fic comes from Jonsa, so a comparison to the Salty Teens AU—essentially two teenagers have to get married for political reasons but don’t get along at first, but are sexually compatible—seems reasonable. Daemon and Rohanne don’t have a lot in common (he’s a 14 year old martial prodigy and an unjumped illegitimate son of a corrupt king and an imprisoned Queen with a famous old lineage; she’s older—I headcanon 16–legitimate niece of the Archon and comes from a culture where the actual citizens don’t really fight and wealth is more important than birth), they don’t even speak the same native language (headcanon is they spoke High Valyrian to each other until Daemon learned Tyroshi dialect more throughly and Rohanne learned fluent Westerosi. They usually spoke Tyroshi at home, because they were worried about spies), they both had to get married because their powerful relatives wanted them out of the way (for Daemon because Da3ron II wanted him in a powerless position because he’d fear he‘d rebel; and Rohanne I headcanon due to her uncle wanting to punish her more ambitious mother and her father agreed due to an inheritance dispute), so I don’t think they hit it off right away. I think their initial meeting was probably formal and awkward, surrounded by relatives and courtiers; Rohanne was not impressed with this tall, seemingly endlessly cheerful boy and Daemon is intimidated by this seemingly elegant, severe older girl with the Tyroshi purple hair. It wasn’t until after the relatives were gone and they’re in either their new lands or Tyrosh (if you think that I did they lived there for a few years after the wedding while at least some lodgings were being built) that the two could let their guard down and start trying to understand each other. If I can borrow another early Jonsa trope, probably Rohanne’s pregnancy with twins brought them together by revealing their insecurities but also the desire to make the marriage work. So I think their first date was a night in, they brushed each other’s hair, maybe Daemon reads to her in Tyroshi, then she reads to him in Westerosi, both of them made comments about the material and the reader’s elocution, and they ate a plate of cold meat and olives washed down with soft cider. Maybe it wasn’t a grand date, but it was the start because each could tell the other was trying.

How did their wedding go? Probably awkward and formal. Both of them probably had emotional baggage regarding weddings and relationships. Rohanne’s family flat out forbade the bedding (Tyroshi don’t follow that custom). Daemon was upset because his siblings weren‘t there (although I guess Elaena was) to support him/say goodbye whereas Rohanne had her father and sister who weren’t emotionally equipped to deal with all these strangers and say goodbye to her. Possibly being married in the Sept of Baelor didn’t help either of them. But I think the consummation went better than the wedding in spite of the families’ expectations, partly due to them being alone but also having to rely mostly on body language. Daemon showed consideration for Rohanne’s personal space and Rohanne let herself be vulnerable. Canon seems to indicate they were compatible in this respect.

How did she feel at court? Rohanne was probably not liked by most of Da3ron’s court because of her status as Daemon‘s wife, her “low birth” in coming from a non-Valyrian family without a surname, and her refusal to convert to the Seven (considering no Essosi woman ever converted to marry a Westerosi man before, so I don’t think Rohanne did). Then she starts having many children very quickly, which freaked out the “Daemon is going to rebel any minute” crowd. I imagine she was treated similarly to Larra Rogare, except she didn’t have the advantage of a crown Prince as a husband or several influential male relatives close by (and Larra was still miserable). Instead of being able to hide how she felt behind an interpreter, or bury her feelings in the latest fashions (no shade on Larra here; just pointing out the class disparity), Rohanne had to work with a much smaller income and probably had to face the hostile court without Tyroshi allies. Daemon was probably a big help; even though he learned to brush off “bastard” insults before the age of 10 with a smile and a joke, it’s part of the knightly code to defend women so I can’t imagine he’d take slights to Rohanne (especially if she brought them to his attention) very well. Aegor too understands what it’s like to be an outsider and not want to socialize with the court, and at the very least won’t fault her for not fulfilling all the social obligations (I see them as good friends and allies due to being introverted but passionate). But many of the court spaces were sex-segregated, so she’d have to look for female allies. If there were any Tyroshi women at court (some of the Dornish in the MUSH RPG married Tyroshi), I could see her seeking them or their daughters out. I headcanon Redtusk as a Summer Islander exile (he‘s got Tusks, so to me this is obviously an elephant hunter. Crakehall!Redtusk doesn’t seem right due to Da3ron’s Kingsguard Roland Crakehall), so she was at least familiar with his wife Princess Xiwani. Another option is Princess Elaena, who was good with money, so I can see her having a relationship with a mercantile-minded Tyroshi woman. Maybe Elaena’s daughter Jeyne was also a friend (particularly if she was a Blackfyre supporter). The Butterwells are also looked down on for their origins as dairy farmers, so Ambrose Butterwell’s daughters before they wed might’ve been companions (maybe she helped arrange their weddings? At least the Costaynes seemed faithful Blackfyre supporters, and one of the daughters married Lord Costayne). And of course, she was grateful to the Velaryons. Any families with young children probably got at least acquainted with her and her pack of kids. I don’t think she was ever fully comfortable with the ethos of the court or even some Blackfyre-supporting men (thinking about House Peake due to their proud lineage and Fireball), but she learned how to stop treating many of them as potential enemies (the ones who she felt deserved it).

What was her reaction to childbirth? Empress Maria Theresa of Austria, the mother of 17 children, seemed to have easy labor pains. There’s a story that she was so devoted to work that she gave birth at her desk and, after the baby was dried off and sent away, kept writing! I figure Rohanne’s experience with childbirth was also relatively painless, given how many children she had and how moontea was always an option. The simplest in-universe explanation is that Rohanne just really loved children and wanted a houseful of them. I headcanon she grew up as the child of separated parents (yes, they allow easier separation in Tyrosh) whereas her other aunt and uncle had a big happy family, so she wanted to raise give her kids the Happy noisy childhood she didn’t get (the tragedy being that after Redgrass…) I think her naming her daughter Calla—in real life, a Greek word that means “beautiful”—speaks to her delight at having a baby girl. She loved those children and treasured them all. That’s why losing them was so painful for her.

Thanks for the ask! If you’d like to talk about any of your own Daemon/Rohanne headcanons, my ask box is always open. Don’t be afraid to create the content you’d like to see.

#ask #asoiaf #asoiaf headcanon #daemon blackfyre #rohanne of tyrosh #daemon x rohanne #fandom critical #memes

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fanfic-archive · 3 years ago

Text

Meeting the Baron (3/7)

Chapter 3. Riga, Latvia

Summary: Next stop? Riga and Zemo’s Latvian flat. Zemo proves that breaking him out of prison wasn’t an all-bad idea, providing you with invaluable information and leads, but it’s not that surprising that the new Captain America had finally caught up with your ragtag group.

Part 1, Part 2

Word Count: 4695

The search for Karli took the four of you to Riga, Latvia. And, thankfully, Zemo had somewhere there for you all to stay. He really was proving himself useful, if nothing else he had funded everything for the three of you. Clothes, travel, lodging, it certainly made things easier.

Now, Zemo was guiding the there of you through the streets of Riga and towards his place where you would all be staying.

“I heard what became of Sokovia. Cannibalised by its neighbours before the land was even cleared of rubble, erased from the map” Zemo spoke up, making you a little curious. Of course, Sam and Bucky had explained what had happened to Sokovia but this was the first time that he was speaking of it. “I don’t suppose any of you bothered visiting the memorial?” he asked, the question pointed more towards Sam. “Of course not. Why would you?” he continued when Sam didn’t respond, sounding calm but you sensed the underlying annoyance. “We are here” he announced as you arrived outside his property.

“I’m gonna go on a walk” Bucky stopped, making you all turn back to him.

“You good?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys in a bit” Bucky just nodded before walking off in the opposite direction.

“I worry about him sometimes” you sighed to yourself.

“Yeah, me too” Sam patted your shoulder before the two of you followed Zemo inside.

Now, this was much closer to what you expected from the Baron when it came to housing. This safehouse, if you could call it that, was much nicer and more spacious than where you had stayed in Madripoor. The room was warmly lit, the sun coming through stain glass windows. The décor was much more of what you expected as well, the style and furniture a mix between traditional and modern. In summary, you liked the space, and if this was a safehouse of his, it was still much nicer than your apartment back home.

The three of you settled in, Sam sitting down to do some research, Zemo disappearing into the bathroom, and you making yourself a drink before falling down onto the couch. Here you were, on the run, tracking down a rebel group, but living in much better conditions.

Taking a sip from your glass, your attention turned to the opening bathroom doors, where Zemo stepped out. You couldn’t help but stare despite your better judgement, he was a sight to take in like this. Blue bathrobe, tied securely but revealing the top of his chest, letting you catch a glimpse of the silver chain that hung around his neck and just the right amount of chest hair.

As your gaze travelled up his body, finally landing on his face, you saw that he was already looking at you. Knowing you had been caught, you placed your glass down and stood up, walking over to Sam to see if he had found any information. Just anything to make it look like you hadn’t been checking him out, but Zemo had noticed. He didn’t say anything, just smirking to himself as he made himself a drink.

Thankfully, Bucky returned from his ‘walk’, closing the door behind him. “Well, the Wakandans are here. They want Zemo. Bought us some more time” Bucky informed you all, just adding another complication into the mess you had all found yourselves in.

“Were you followed?” Sam asked, standing as you both followed Bucky over to the kitchen.

“No” Bucky answered.

“How can you be so sure?” Zemo questioned, joining the four of you in the kitchen.

“Because I know when I’m being followed” Bucky shot him a glare.

“It was sweet of you to defend me at least” Zemo hummed, sipping from his drink.

“Hey, you shut it. No one’s defending you. You killed Nagel” Sam reminded him.

“Do we really have to litigate what may or may not have happened?” Zemo asked as if it meant nothing.

“There’s nothing to litigate. You straight shot the man” Sam couldn’t believe he was having this argument but you just smiled to yourself, knowing that Zemo was just trying to bother him. The Baron just shrugged, moving to stand on the opposite side of the kitchen island from you.

“Sam” Bucky got his attention, and you were about to listen to what he had to say but Zemo got your attention.

“Schatzi” the nickname made you turn to the Baron. You weren’t sure what the word translated to specifically, but you were sure it was a term of endearment of some kind, something that should have bothered you but didn’t even in the slightest.

“What?” you asked, turning your attention to him.

“Turkish Delight?” Zemo offered, completely throwing you off.

“Uh…” you weren’t sure how to answer that, this man repeatedly confused and surprised you. He just found out that the Wakandans were here for him and he was offering you candy?

Even though you didn’t really answer, he handed you one of the wrapped candies, placing it in your palm. “There. Irresistible” he smiled, looking you in the eye as he spoke. You had no idea why, it was just something about the way he said it, about the way that he looked at you, but it made heat rise to your cheeks and you just knew that he noticed. But neither of you commented, you just unwrapped the treat and ate it.

“Y/n” Bucky said your name to get your attention when he realised you hadn’t heard anything they had been talking about.

“Sorry, what?” you asked, looking back at Bucky and Sam.

“Did you hear what we were just talking about” Bucky asked.

“Uh no, I was…eating” you confused, blushing some more but this time from embarrassment.

“Karli bombed a GRC supply depot. There were eleven injured and three dead, and they’re threatening more attacks if their demands aren’t met” Bucky informed you.

“What? They haven’t done anything like that before” your eyes widened in shock.

“She’s getting worse” Zemo commented disapprovingly.

It was becoming even more important that you found Karli. Sam made the point that they would probably be holding a memorial for Donya and that the best way of finding Karli was to get some information on where it was being held.

And so, the four of you got ready and headed back out into Riga. Zemo lead the way, your own personal tour guide, to a refugee camp.

“Shame what’s become of this place” Zemo spoke as you stepped into the camp, looking around with a sense of familiarity but a little distain. “When I was young, we used to come here for fabulous dinners and parties. I knew nothing of the politics of the time, of course, but I remember it being beautiful” he told you, and his words did seem more directed towards you than the men you were with.

“It still has a certain beauty to it” you claimed, and you meant it. You couldn’t picture what it was like all those years ago but if you took away the pain that was happening here, you would find it rather beautiful.

“I envy you, being able to see it with fresh eyes” Zemo looked down at you, and he seemed sincere.

“I’m gonna take a look around upstairs. See what you can find out here” uninterested in the conversation, Sam took a step back from the group. “And keep an eye on him” he ordered the two of you.

“I’ll stay out of your way” Zemo assured Bucky, who just nodded before going to look around and see what he could find. “Liebling, would you mind accompanying me?” the Baron asked you.

“Sure…why?” you nodded, wondering what he was planning.

With a small smile, Zemo placed a hand on your back and led you over to where a group of children were playing. “Children usually have an easier time trusting women” he lent down towards your ear to explain.

Still wondering what he was up to, you walked with him, it was your job to keep an eye on him after all. He removed his hand from your back and pulled a wooden stool out in front of him, sitting down on a bench behind it. On top of the stool, he emptied out wrapped candies from a brown paper bag that he retrieved from a pocket in his coat. That had certainly gained the interest of the children.

“Turkish Delight” he informed the young girl who had stepped closer, “it was always my son’s favourite.”

The comment had made you glance at him, a feeling of sympathy settling in your chest. You knew what had happened to his family, Sam had explained his motives to you when he was explaining who Zemo was, but this was the first time he had spoken of either his son or his wife. He had only just mentioned Sokovia for the first time when you arrive in Riga, but you understood, you couldn’t imagine how painful the subject must be.

The girl came closer and took one of the Turkish Delights, waiting to see what the two of you wanted. “My old friend, Donya, passed away. Did you know her?” Zemo asked and she nodded. “I would like to pay my last respects. Do you know where her funeral will be?” again, she nodded.

Zemo smiled and pointed towards his ear, to which the girl hurried around to his side to whisper to him. Once the girl stepped away again, Zemo looked up at you and nodded, letting you know that he had the location.

“Thank you” you gave the girl a kind smile and gestured for her to take another Turkish Delight, and she did with a smile of her own.

Zemo stood, picking up a handful of sweets. “This is our little secret, okay?” he asked and all of the children nodded. In return, he handed them the remaining sweets for them to divide between themselves. “Liebling?” he offered you his arm and you couldn’t help but smile a little as you took it, letting him guide you back towards Bucky and Sam, who had returned.

Bucky gave you a questioning look as you approached but you just shrugged at him. “Cute kids” Zemo commented as the two of you walked past them.

It wasn’t until you all returned to the safehouse that Zemo revealed what he had learnt. You, Sam and Bucky sat on the couch while Zemo headed for the kitchen.

“That little girl. What did she tell you?” Bucky asked as Zemo approached you all with a tray of tea.

“The funeral is this afternoon” Zemo told you, placing the tray down.

“You know the Dora’s coming for you any minute. In fact, they’re probably lurking outside right now. Keep talking” Bucky reminded him but it sounded more like a threat.

“Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. I prefer to keep my leverage” while it was irritating to the three of you, Zemo made sense. He was a wanted criminal, why would he give you all the information he had so that you didn’t need him anymore.

Bucky abruptly stood up, rounding the coffee table. He took the glass straight out of Zemo’s hand and threw it at the wall behind him, causing it to shatter. “You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” he threated, trying to intimidate him.

“Bucky, calm down” you jumped up from your seat and got between the two men, your back to Zemo. “Don’t let him use this against you” you pleaded with Bucky, you knew he was better than threats of physical violence and you didn’t need him beating himself up about this later on.

“She’s right, man” Sam spoke calmly, and Bucky thankfully backed off. “Let me make a phone call” he gave Bucky one last look before leaving the room, and Bucky followed after him.

“Very sweet of you, thank you” Zemo smirked slightly as you turned to face him. You had defended him against your friend, and he suspected multiple motivations behind your actions.

“Don’t mention it” you sighed, shaking your head at him.

“Want some Cherry Blossom tea?” Zemo offered, as if the confrontation just never happened.

“That actually sounds pretty good” you confessed.

He smiled and gestured towards the remaining cups on the tray, you picked one up and took a seat on the couch, letting out a small sigh as you did so. Zemo picked up another cup before sitting beside you.

“I, uh…I’m sorry about your family…and your country, I can’t imagine what you went through” you spoke up after a moment of silence. You contemplated bringing up the subject but decided to give it a shot.

You knew that the others found it hard to sympathise with him after everything he put them through and you understood that, but it felt like something that had to be said. The Baron looked at you before looking back at his drink, and you noticed his hesitation about speaking. It was understandably painful for him and you were ready to drop the subject if needs be.

“Now, why should you apologise? You didn’t even know about it until recently” Zemo asked. It wasn’t the response you had expected but you weren’t too surprised, he had been acting unphased by nearly everything happening, he was just keeping up that act now.

“I…guess I just thought someone should” you admitted, and that answer made him think for a moment. “If you would like to talk about it, I’d listen” you offered, assuming he hadn’t had anyone to confide in for a long time, “or we can pretend I never mentioned it.”

He hesitated but finally spoke. “My father lived outside the city, I thought we would be safe there” Zemo started and instantly all of your attention was on him, you hadn’t really expected him to speak about it but now that he was, all you would do was listen. “My son was excited, he could see the Iron Man from the car window. I told my wife ‘Don’t worry, they’re fighting in the city. We’re miles from harm.’” You couldn’t imagine the guilt is must have felt for that. “When the dust cleared…and the screaming stopped…it took me two days until I found their bodies. My father…still holding my wife and son in his arms” the way he stared at the tea in his hands told you that he was reliving that moment, it was one of those things that just sticks with you. You can’t forget, you can only move forward. “And the Avengers? They went home…I admit, I let vengeance consume me, but my time alone provided plenty of opportunities for insight. Perhaps I have changed to an extent since my arrest, but I still stand by what I believe. Idols, superheroes, they are dangerous.”

You didn’t say anything, there was nothing to be said, so you just reached over and placed your hand on his, stroking your thumb back and forth in a comforting manner. Nothing could change the past, nothing could make it better, and you knew that he didn’t want or need to hear your condolences. You just wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone, he had formed an unlikely alliance here. Zemo looked down at where your hand sat atop his, the gesture was appreciated.

The sound of voices approaching caught your attention, you pulled your hand away from his just as Sam and Bucky came back into the room. Neither of the noticing.

“Ready?” Sam asked, not wanting to miss the memorial. You just nodded as you stood up.

The way you pulled your hand away when your friends entered the room suggested to Zemo that the gesture had meant a little more than simple sympathy. It was something you thought you should hide from your friends, and it made him all the more curious.

Once again, Zemo was leading the three of you through Riga. You were a little distracted, taking a moment to just look around and admire the unfamiliar streets. Cobblestone streets, old fashioned streetlamps, bright flowers decorating windows, it wasn’t what you were used too, and you loved it.

“Hey, Y/n, you with us?” Sam tapped your arm, bringing you back to reality.

“Yeah, sorry…just looking around” you told them honestly, with a small laugh.

“I take it you’re enjoying Riga?” Zemo asked rhetorically, glad that you were enjoying your visit.

“I definitely think I could take a vacation here” you nodded.

“When was the last time you had a vacation?” Bucky asked, knowing that wasn’t really something you had much opportunity for.

“Uh…since I was a child I guess, and I never left the States” you answered.

“Well, I’d be honoured to be your tour guide if we get the chance” Zemo offered with a smile.

“I’d like that” you returned the smile, definitely liking the sound of having Zemo show you more of the country, maybe even more of the world.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit” a loud voice interrupted, making you look ahead to see John Walker approaching.

“How’d you find us now?” Bucky called to him.

“Come on, you think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” Lemar asked and you couldn’t really argue with that, it wasn’t a miracle that they found you.

“No more keeping us in the dark” Walker told them. “You can start by telling us why you broke him out of prison” he pointed towards Zemo.

“He did that himself, technically” Bucky corrected him.

“This better be an unbelievable explana-” Walker began but was interrupted.

“Hey, take it easy before it gets weird” Sam stepped in when he noticed how agitated John was getting.

“And who’s this?” John asked, pointing towards you this time.

“A friend” you told him simply.

“Of who? Them or him?” he questioned you, gesturing towards Zemo, accusing you of being a partner in crime of the Baron.

“Them…but more him than you” you shrugged, but he didn’t seem pleased with your answer.

“I know where Karli is” Zemo told the soldiers, tired of the conversation, and began to pass John but was stopped by a hand against his chest.

“Where?” John demanded an answer.

“All we know is it’s a memorial” Sam answered when Zemo remained silent.

Seeing something up ahead, Zemo pushed John’s hand away and passed him anyway. “Liebling?” he looked back at you, encouraging you to follow, so you nodded and did.

When John realised that you were both walking away, John placed a hand on your shoulder to halt you. “Look, we’re kinda busy and don’t have time to argue, so get out the way, okay?” you gave him a sarcastic smile as you pushed his hand off of you.

“Do you know who I am? I’m Captain America” John was clearly angry with the way you responded to him, annoyed that you truly didn’t care about who he was.

“You’re a guy in a star-spangled suit, alright? Calm down” you scoffed at his arrogance before pushing past him to catch up with Zemo, missing the look of anger on John’s face.

The other four followed behind the two of you, John and Sam arguing about how to handle the situation with Karli. John planned on fighting no matter what, but Sam wanted to try to talk to Karli, which was the plan you agreed with.

“So, where exactly are we going?” you asked Zemo, ignoring the bickering that was happening behind you.

“My associate is just up ahead” Zemo announced, which seemed to get the attention of the others.

At the end of the road was the girl from the camp who had given you the location of the funeral. You all approached her, Zemo and you standing in front of the others since she better recognised the two of you.

“Hello, my friend” Zemo greeted her kindly. “This is for your family” he handed her a generous amount of money, making you smile. He didn’t have to offer her so much, but he did. “Can you show us the way?” he asked.

The girl nodded, gesturing for you all to follow her before walking ahead, and so you all did. She took you to where the memorial was being held before disappearing futher into the building, leaving you all to your business.

Once alone, John handcuffed Zemo to a boiler, telling Sam that he had ten minutes before you were doing things ‘his way’. Sam nodded to you and Bucky before following the path that the young girl had gone, going to find Karli, while the rest of you would wait.

Bucky stood in the doorway to prevent John from interfering too early, John sat against the wall looking agitated, Lemar sat on the ground beside him, and you stood by Zemo. All of you just waiting.

“No, no, no. This is a bad idea” John mumbled to himself as he started pacing.

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight” Bucky watched him carefully.

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronise me” John snapped.

“He’s not, we all just have to stay calm” you spoke up calmly, trying to talk the man down. Sam knew what he was doing.

“Who even are you?” John’s anger and frustration was peaking now as he walked over to you, beginning to get in your face.

Before John could get too close, Zemo had stepped out and got in between you both, his wrist still attached to the boiler. Looking between you both, John just scoffed, a comment forming on his tongue.

“Sam knows what he’s doing” Bucky assured the two men, getting John’s attention back on him. Instantly, the two men started arguing again.

“What are you thinking?” Zemo asked you quietly, keeping your attention on him.

“He’s antsy…” you commented, squinting at the back of the blonde’s head, “something’s going on with him.”

“What do you think it is?” he wanted to know what you thought.

“…performance issues” you half-joked, earning an eyebrow raise from Zemo. “I mean it, probably feels a little…emasculated. Plus, the pressure is probably getting to him. He thinks he’s Captain America, but he knows he’s not Steve Rogers” you explained yourself.

“Good observation” Zemo nodded in approval.

“Thanks. Do I get a Turkish Delight for my troubles?” you joked, smiling up at him.

“You can have whatever you like” Zemo promised you and it felt like a very real offer. For a moment, you just looked at each other, you trying to figure out exactly what he meant by that and him allowing you to do so.

“Ah, crap” you sighed, the moment ruined when you saw Bucky following John and Lemar further into the building.

“Impatient” Zemo chastised under his breath, equally annoyed about being interrupted.

“Alright, let’s get you out of these” you turned to the handcuffs, examining them.

“You know how to pick locks?” Zemo asked, digging into an inside pocket of his coat before holding a lockpick out for you. “Always prepared” he told you proudly when you gave him a questioning look.

“Of course I know how to pick a lock, who do you think I am?” you answered, taking the pick from him. “Honestly just surprised that you haven’t already picked it” you hummed, using the lockpick he had provided to open the cuffs.

“I was enjoying my time with you” the Baron smiled when you looked up at him, a little surprised by the comment, as the cuffs opened. Was he…flirting with you? So blatantly?

Once again, the moment was cut short by the sound of fighting and gunshots. “Come on” you handed him the lockpick back before the two of you headed further into the building.

You pulled your gun out of your holster, readying it in case you ran into trouble, but Zemo pulled out a gun of his own.

“Again, with the gun?” you looked at him in disbelief, where does he keep getting them from and why is nobody noticing?

“Will you allow me to keep it this time?” Zemo asked.

“Yes, whatever” you nodded, you weren’t going to unarm him in a dangerous situation, you could use the extra gun.

The building was like a maze, you had been following corridor after corridor and you still hadn’t come across anyone. Neither of you knew the building and so took it in turns to decide which turn to take.

The two of you were walking down the next corridor, passing the start of another when a gunshot rang out. Without hesitation, Zemo grabbed you and pulled you both away from the corridor’s entrance, pinning you to the wall beside it by your shoulders.

Your breathing was heavy as you processed what had happened, that Zemo had pulled you out of the way of potentially being shot. Now the two of you stood a little too close, his body shielding yours against the wall, chests falling and rising as your breathing steadied, wide eyes looking up at him.

You couldn’t have been there for long, just looking at each other, before his lips were suddenly on yours, his hands sliding up from your shoulders to cup your face. With an almost embarrassing lack of restraint, you returned the kiss with an equal passion. Your hands gripped his arms, holding each other close as an unspoken tension was slightly released.

It reminded you of that night in Madripoor, of the pull you felt towards him and the spark that he ignited within you. The difference right now was that there was no reason for the two of you two kiss, no act to keep up, nobody to convince, it was simply because you both wanted too.

Another gunshot pulled you both away from each other. Zemo took a step back as you raised your gun, stepping out from behind the corner to shoot the attacker, landing a non-fatal hit to the leg. Aiming to disable but not to kill. Zemo tapped your shoulder before you both hurried down the corridor, not having the time to linger on the moment you both just shared or address what it meant.

The two of you came to a room, your eyes widening when you saw Karli. Zemo didn’t even hesitate before shooting at her, he managed to hit her once but when he shot again, she jumped over a table and took cover.

“Zemo” you warned as he approached, knowing Sam wouldn’t be okay with him killing her.

As the two of you approached the table, he shot at the ground to keep her behind it, but got distracted by multiple small vials of a blue substance that had fallen to the floor.

“Is this what I think it is?” Zemo picked up a vial, examining it. It could only be one thing, the super soldier serum.

You flinched a little at the sound of glass shattering when he started destroying the vials, but you couldn’t say that you completely disagreed with the destruction of them. In the end, it was probably for the best.

While he was distracted, Karli quickly got up and ran for the stairs. You acted as quickly as you could and shot in her direction but missed and she escaped with another one of the Flag Smashers. Next thing you knew, Captain America’s shield was flying in front of your face, hitting Zemo in the side of the head and knocking him unconscious.

“Zemo” you gasped under your breath before kneeling down to check on him.

You carefully took his head in your hands and examined his face, he wasn’t bleeding. You checked his pulse and gently lay his head back down, he seemed alright for the most part. While you were fretting over the Baron, you didn’t see John picking up and pocketing a surviving vial, and then Sam, Bucky, and Lemar were running into the room.

You looked up at Sam and Bucky, and they just looked at you as if to ask ‘what the hell happened?’

Meeting the Baron Taglist:

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#Helmut Zemo x reader #Zemo x reader #Baron Zemo x reader #helmut zemo #zemo #baron zemo #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws

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insfiringyou · 3 years ago

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BTS - Somebody Else (V x Da-eun) & (Max x Cassandra)

Contains: Fluff, parenting, slight angst, smut, first date

Set a month after the fic ‘A Chance Meeting’ where V asks for Da-eun’s phone number. He agrees on a date with the stylist and Cassandra and Max spend some alone time together.

You can find out more about our headcanon universe and ongoing storyline here and more about our headcanon girlfriends here.

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM / Jin / Suga / J-Hope / Jimin / V / Jungkook & our full masterlist of fanart and fanfictions can be found here

If you wish to follow all member’s storylines in chronological order from the beginning, you can find them listed here.

Rated content below the cut

PART ONE

Taehyung smiled, opening his mouth in a playful gesture as the baby dropped the wrapper on the floor; the infant licked the dark substance from his tiny, sticky fingers with a grin. The man opposite reached for the pack of wet wipes on the table in front of him, slipping a few from the hole in the top and stretching to hand them to Taehyung who took them with a quiet thanks.

“No problem.” Max sat back down and leaned back in the chair, watching as Taehyung wiped the chocolate from the baby’s lips, trailing it across his cheeks and forehead, where a strand had managed to become lodged in the boy’s dark hair. “He loves that stuff but he gets it everywhere.”

Taehyung looked up briefly at the sound of the man’s voice, dismissing it with a lazy gesture. “Babies are supposed to be messy.”

“He’ll never sleep now…” Cassandra rolled her eyes with a sigh, shifting against the cushions of the small, two-person couch she shared with her boyfriend. She had spent all afternoon trying to get Gabriel prepared for his evening walk with Taehyung; making sure he was changed and fed, but the child had been restless, throwing his dinner on the floor in a tantrum before attempting to climb the stairs; pulling the safety gate from the wall in the process. Her limbs ached from chasing him, but his demeanor changed when his father showed up at the door. He climbed in the stroller without kicking up a fuss and, according to Taehyung, hadn’t made a sound on the mile-long trip to the park. It was times like this she jokingly wondered if Gabriel had been the right name to call him. Lucifer might be more apt.

Max had shown up shortly after the troublesome pair had left, and the cup of warm tea he made was most welcome. He helped her tidy the living room in anticipation of them coming back, and insisted she sit back and relax as he did the washing up. Her feet were sore and he kneaded them gently, resting them one by one in his lap until the sound of the door opening made her pull away. The thought of Taehyung seeing them made her uncomfortable, and her soles were feeling much better anyway.

“It’ll be fine.” Max murmured cheerfully, pulling her away from her thoughts. “I can go and sit with him if he wakes up.” Cassandra frowned at his casual taking of Taehyung’s side and he touched her thigh, giving it a little pat. “It’ll give you a chance to sleep.”

“I could stay if you need me to.” Taehyung offered, his gaze suddenly fixed on the couple.

She shook her head, frown fixed. “I thought you had a date?”

He opened his mouth to speak but Max cut in, interest peaked. “I didn’t know you were dating.”

Taehyung was silent for a moment before offering a small shrug. “We’ve only been texting.”

“How long?” The other man asked.

“A month or so.”

Cassandra turned to her boyfriend, sensing the other man’s discomfort at being questioned, she took over, elaborating for him. “She’s a stylist.”

Max grinned teasingly. “Your stylist?”

Taehyung shook his head. “No, a friend’s. We haven’t met yet.”

“Where are you taking her?” The older man asked.

There was a long pause and Cassandra suspected he wasn’t going to reply, realising that Max, who was an open book when it came to conversation, hadn’t yet sensed the other man’s uneasiness. Taehyung lowered Gabriel gently to the floor. The infant had started to wriggle in his grasp, as though sensing the change in atmosphere.

“Le Rouge, in Gangnam.” He murmured.

“Oh, it’s nice!” Max turned to his girlfriend with a warm smile. “We’ve been.”

“Make sure you try the Coq au vin.” She chipped in.

The younger man shrugged once more. “I’m not that hungry…I was thinking of just going for drinks.”

She looked at him, eyebrow cocked. “Have you told her that?”

“What do you mean?” He replied, voice slow.

She tried not to roll her eyes. “She might not have eaten.”

He sighed quietly, wanting to change the topic. “I’m sure we can figure it out.”

Cassandra fell quiet, eyes falling to her son who had started to whine under his breath, babbling incessantly as he clung to the dark fabric of the sofa, attempting to climb back onto his father’s lap. He was growing fussy and she checked her watch.

Max watched her do this and got slowly to his feet. “We should put him to bed now.”

“I’ll do it.” Taehyung interrupted.

Cassandra joined her boyfriend, shaking her head lightly as she stood, gently reminding the man opposite. “You’ve got somewhere to be.”

“Are you driving?” Max asked, stepping aside to allow Cassandra to edge past him.

The younger man shifted in his seat but accepted Cassandra’s offer. “Taking a cab.” His eyes followed as she bent down beside him, scooping the child in her arms easily as she had done thousands of times before. Their eyes met and she gave a soft smile, nodding towards his printed shirt. The colours were jeweled in tone; feathers decorating the crisp, white fabric. It was a wonder he had managed to stay clean with the baby around.

“You look nice.” She complimented.

“Thank you.” He murmured quietly.

She nodded, straightening her legs. “I hope it goes well.” Gabriel had finally grown quiet, his eyes closing sleepily and she lowered him towards his father who kissed his cheek softly, smoothing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

“Goodnight angel…”

He watched her walk towards the hallway and felt his chest swim simultaneously with warmth and sadness at the sight of them leaving. Max followed his gaze, sea-blue eyes observing, but not quite understanding what he was seeing. He sat back in his chair, sensing the tension the other man was feeling and wanting to alleviate it somehow.

“Do you want something to drink since you’re not driving?” He offered politely. “Something to settle your nerves?”

The younger man’s attention was drawn for a few more moments by Cassandra climbing the stairs to the second floor with Gabriel walking in front of her; his arms held up to stop him from falling, before turning back. “If you want.”

Max stood up, heading towards the kitchen. “Do you like craft ale? We got a batch from a local brewery.”

“Anything’s fine.” Taehyung murmured without interest, watching as the older man unclasped the safety gate which shielded the kitchen from young, adventurous hands. He heard the fridge door open and the gentle hiss of cap tops being popped, before the other man returned, clutching two bottles. He handed one across the table before settling back down in his previous position on the opposite sofa.

“Has it been a while?”

Taehyung frowned. “Since what?”

Max shrugged easily. “You dated.”

The younger man looked away, thinking. “I’ve been focused on other things lately.”

Max nodded with a smile, remembering tidbits of information from Cassandra. “I heard about your house renovation. Is it going well?”

“Almost finished. I just have the nursery to decorate.”

He gave a murmur of approval in reply, before falling silent, unsure what else to say. Max had met Taehyung on a handful of occasions, though their conversations were usually brief; it wasn’t him he was coming around to see after all. He hadn’t yet grasped a good sense of his personality, though he seemed to be shy, reserved even. Max wasn’t used to making small talk, but wanted to be friendly; the other man was Gabriel’s father after all, and it would help Cassandra if they got along. “It’s good that you’ve made it work.” He eventually said, approvingly. Taehyung looked at him with a blank expression and he quickly clarified. “You and Cassandra...most people can’t.”

“Me and Cass aren’t like ‘most people’.” He replied, making Max laugh. He held up his bottle in cheers.

“I’ll drink to that!” He grinned, pressing the bottle to his lips. Taehyung followed, mirroring his motion and taking a few small sips. Max put his bottle on the table, watching the other man drink quietly, musing over whether he should say what he had planned. The young man opposite seemed more relaxed, having grown used to his company, so he pressed ahead, a little cautiously, seeking approval.

“We were thinking of taking a little vacation this summer…”

“Where to?” Taehyung asked.

His voice seemed casual, uninterested, so Max continued. “Sweden.” He cleared his throat a little. “Lund, my home town.”

Brown eyes met blue across the space. “Will Gabriel be going with you?”

Max hesitated, brushing his fair hair from his eyes and touching the back of his neck. “Would you be okay with that?”

Taehyung was quiet for a second, before replying. “If Cassandra’s comfortable with it.” He looked towards the doorway automatically, towards the staircase. He could hear Gabriel whaling loudly upstairs, Cassandra’s frantic hushes just audible as she tried to get him to settle in his cot. Max followed his gaze, reading his thoughts, and shook his head knowingly.

“She might take a while.” He confirmed. “You don’t want to be late.”

Taehyung fell silent, as though wishing to protest, but finally stood up, collecting his phone from the coffee table and sliding it into his shoulder bag. He hadn’t quite finished the drink, but a quick glance at his watch told him he wouldn’t have time. He wasn’t that thirsty anyway.

Max trailed behind as they walked into the hallway, the older man sipping his beer along the way. “I hope you’ll come again soon.” He smiled. Taehyung paused by the stairs, considering whether he should go up and say goodnight.

“I’ll let her know you had to go.” Max said gently, and Taehyung looked back, nodding in acceptance.

“Thanks.” He murmured, reaching for the door handle.

PART TWO

She felt hot under her thick, woolen coat and hoped her foundation was staying put. The evening was unexpectedly warm, a contrast to the past few nights when she had taken the bus back from her company’s headquarters downtown, and she was beginning to regret her attire. There was no one behind the reception desk and she looked around the dim room frantically, checking the small face of her watch and hoping he hadn’t left already; that was if he had shown up at all. There were a few couples seated around the circular tables, along with a family on the long, bench-like table near the window, clearly celebrating a birthday. Golden balloons were strung along the backs of chairs, and the conversation among them was heated and familiar. She couldn’t see him there and reached into her handbag for her phone, wondering if she would be brave enough to text.

Her gaze was averted when an older man came out of a back room, closing the door quietly behind him and glancing across the desk. She hoped he couldn’t sense her embarrassment and wondered whether she should just leave, before he beckoned gently to her. She took a step closer to the desk and he leaned across to whisper.

“Could I take your name?”

She pulled away and looked at him. His expression was hard to read and she felt her cheeks turn red.

“Kang Da-eun.” She replied, wondering a second too late whether it had been a good idea to tell a stranger.

He nodded. “This way please…”

She looked around the room, noting the busy atmosphere, before following cautiously towards a beaded curtain at the end of the corridor.

“Can I take your coat?” The man asked, pulling the strings aside as she ducked beneath. It made a soft, musical sound as the beads shimmied back together and she looked around the small room, spotting the lone figure immediately. The walls were a deep, fleshy kind of burgundy and the soft, warm lighting only made the room seem smaller, more intimate. Her heart seemed to stop as the man seated at the far end looked up above the menu, straight at her. His hair was a medium brown, tousled a little above his dark, dark eyes and the expression he gave seemed intense, though she couldn’t quite read it. She still couldn’t believe she was meeting him in the flesh; though she recognised him immediately. She had been too preoccupied over the prospect of him not being there that she hadn’t quite worked out what she would do if he was. Da-eun became aware that the server was waiting patiently at her side, and she belatedly turned to him with a blush, smoothing her dark hair away from her perspiring forehead.

“Oh, thank you…” She slipped off the tweed coat, fumbling a little with the oversized buttons, before handing it to him. He hung it on the stand in the corner, before promptly disappearing back through the curtains. When she turned back her date was standing, pulling the wooden chair from the other side of the little table for her to sit down. She walked over shakily, hoping her feet wouldn’t give out from under her as she joined him. The chair squeaked as she sat on it and she felt herself cringe even further.

“I’m sorry to be late. The bus was delayed.” She blurted, eyes following as he sat back down and met her gaze.

“Which number did you get?” He asked, voice low and surprisingly soft. She felt the pulse in her hands and knitted them together in front of her on the table.

“The one from Hannam-dong.”

He nodded, though she wasn’t sure he really understood. She wondered how long it had been since he had taken public transport. She looked around nervously, observing the framed photographs which hung, clustered on the walls. They were placed a little chaotically in the small space, but she thought that might be the point. She recognised a few of the places shown, though she had never been there herself; the Arc de Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower. “It’s really nice here.” She smiled, tugging a little at the hem of her dress; wishing it wasn’t so warm or that she had chosen something less modest. “I feel under-dressed.”

His eyes flickered to the garment, lingering on the decorative pattern which adorned the thick, woolen dress. “Don’t worry.” He murmured.

“Have you been here before?” She asked with interest.

“No.” He said, making her fall silent. She touched her cheeks with the back of her hand, realising, as expected, they were warm to the touch. He noticed and leaned forward. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Just water.” She nodded and he pressed the call button at the side of the table.

“Still or sparkling?”

She blinked. “Still.”

The waiter was prompt, walking through the curtain a few moments later and Taehyung requested water for them both. She took advantage of the moment to fix her fringe again, which had started to cling unattractively to her forehead. She feathered the dark locks with her fingertips, making sure the older gentleman had once more retreated behind the doorway before she spoke again.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d come.” She whispered honestly, a little ashamed of herself.

Taehyung looked at her. “Why?”

“I thought…” She shook her head to herself, a little smile playing on her lips. “It might be a prank.”

“I wouldn’t prank you.” He said smoothly.

“I know…It’s just…” She started, already feeling flustered. “I see people on T.V all the time, where people pretend to be someone they’re not.” She paused. “It’s usually for their credit card.”

The other man was quiet and she worried she might have offended him. She opened her mouth to clarify, but he changed the topic. “Did you like the flowers I sent?”

Sitting back in her chair, she nodded with a smile at the memory. The pale, delicate Baby’s Breath had arrived at her workplace the previous week, wrapped carefully in brown paper. It reminded her of something a child might pick in the spring and she had later wondered if he had done just that. “They were lovely. I didn’t think they were for me at first.”

“I wrote a card.” He affirmed.

She quickly nodded. “I know. I just didn’t see it until Ara pointed it out.”

“Do you like working with Ara?” He questioned.

“She’s really nice.” Da-eun confirmed. “She told me how you met.”

Taehyung sat back, threading his fingers together. “We’ve known each other a long time.”

“I heard.” She thought for a second, curious about something she had heard rumours of in the news. “Are you working on a comeback?”

“Not really.” He murmured dismissively, looking over her shoulder when the waiter returned with a jug and two glasses. “Thank you, you can set it there.” He gestured, pouring the drinks for them both without fuss. He continued speaking as he placed her glass carefully in front of her. “How did you become a stylist?”

She took a few mouthfuls, soothing her dry throat. “Well…” She gulped, setting it back down. “It’s a funny story.”

“I’m listening.” He said.

She looked up, observing that he was indeed watching her closely, before she continued the story. “I had a friend from school who worked with Mamamoo, and she had to pull out of a photoshoot because she broke her arm.”

“How did she break it?” He asked.

“What?” She looked up, eyes wide.

“Her arm. How did she break it?” He asked patiently.

“Oh…” She looked down, remembering. “She fell down the stairs before a business meeting. Her heel just snapped.”

“Sounds painful.” He commented nonchalantly.

“It was.” She confirmed, feeling more confident now she was making conversation and that he appeared to be interested in what she had to say. “Anyway, she couldn’t mix the colours with only one arm. So she asked if I could step in.”

“Did you go to beauty school?”

She nodded with a smile. “I’d just graduated. I couldn’t believe my luck.”

“That’s very fortuitous...” He wandered off, taking a few sips of water as he thought to himself. She watched his eyes grow dark. “I would have liked to have spent more time at school.” He eventually said.

“You still can.” She replied softly. “What would you study?”

He was quiet for a second. “Art maybe…or Photography.”

Her smile widened. “I’ve seen your pictures online…they’re really good.”

“I’d like to be better.” He murmured.

She nodded sympathetically. “It must be hard to balance your time.”

He met her gaze, caught off guard. “Why?”

Da-eun frowned. “You have a son, don’t you?”

She saw his expression shift and immediately realised her mistake. “I’m sorry…” She backtracked, turning red with embarrassment and looking down at the table. “I saw it online.”

“So did most of Korea.” He said dryly.

She sensed a note of sadness in his voice she couldn’t quite place; regret perhaps? She knew why. She didn’t need Ara to tell her what the backlash had been like. Her own reaction as someone who had known his name for years was one of shock and slight disbelief. She knew for those who followed him more closely; the fans who attended his shows and bought his records, the news would have seemed like a bombshell. It had never occurred to her before how this must have affected him. She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. “We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.”

He shifted slightly in his wooden chair, his demeanor relaxing. “Maybe another time.” He confirmed, surprising her. Da-eun watched as he reached slowly across the table, fingertips skimming the back of her hand briefly before pulling away. She felt her skin prickle at the touch. “I want to know you better first.” Taehyung whispered.

She moved her gaze from her hand, where his own had been only seconds before, to his face which seemed soft in the dim glow of the lamp. “I think I’ve told you it all…” She admitted, only just realising how open she had been with him during their messages.

“You still live with your parents and sister?” He asked, already knowing the answer but seeking confirmation.

She nodded. “When I’m home.”

His mouth twisted a little and she wondered if he was teasing her. “Do they know you’re on a date?”

She nodded again, trying this time to hide her blush by talking clearly, with an air of confidence. “I said I’d be back by ten…”

“I’ll make sure you’re home in time.” He said softly, sitting back in his chair.

“Thanks.” She mumbled, sensing a shift between them. Looking across at him, he suddenly seemed less defensive, as though he was finally starting to relax. She nodded towards the single menu that rested between them, noting the neat, spindly calligraphy on the front page. “Have you eaten?”

“No.”

She felt her stomach grumble in reply and picked it up sheepishly. “Did you want to share something? I hear the chicken is good.”

“I heard the same.” He replied coolly, gesturing towards the laminated sheet. “We should get two. I don’t want you to go hungry.”

She glanced at him with a smile, belatedly feeling just how hungry she was. Her stomach had been uncomfortable all afternoon, churning with nerves, and she hadn’t been able to manage more than a few bites at lunch. She knew how much Idols had to watch their figure; having seen for herself what Ara and the girls were subjected to while preparing for their comebacks, but the fact he didn’t seem to mind her having an appetite came as a relief.

“Shall we get a starter too?” She asked hopefully.

He nodded easily. “You should order as much as you want.”

“Maybe some onion soup?”

He smiled. “Sounds good. Do you drink?”

She blinked. “Alcohol?”

He nodded.

“A little bit.” She replied, though immediately realised that was an exaggeration. The last time she had alcohol had been two Christmases ago, and even then it had only been a taste.

“Do you want some wine?” He asked.

She hesitated. “I don’t know much about what’s good.” Da-eun answered honestly.

He nodded in acknowledgement. “I’ll order. Is a Cabernet okay?”

She looked at him blankly, but agreed. “Okay.”

***

She had managed to finish her small glass of wine, but only just. It’s bitter taste had taken her by surprise and if she had felt the room warm before, it was now like an oven. Taehyung had taken her lead and made sure his own glass was small, though he had drunk two. He gestured towards the bottle, still more than half full.

“Do you want any more?” He offered, putting down his fork and wiping his mouth with a napkin.

She shook her head with a smile. The room seemed to be lit with a soft, fuzzy glow; the man opposite cast in a halo of light. She had never been drunk before, though she had heard it was fun. She wasn’t sure tonight was the best night to find out. “I’d better not. I have to get the bus home.”

He looked at her, expression straight. “Are you driving it?”

Da-eun laughed loudly in response, his reply unexpected and funny. It was the first time he had attempted humour all evening, and it was welcome. “No…” She shook her head, eyes streaming a little as she calmed down.

He settled back in his chair comfortably and she suspected he might be feeling proud of himself for getting a response from her. She wondered how long it had been since he had made another woman laugh.

“It’s pretty strong.” He confirmed, noting her roughed cheeks and giddy demeanor. “You could take it home with you. For your parents.”

She looked at the drink, frowning. “I’m not sure they’ll let me on the bus with a bottle.”

“I’ll call you a taxi.” He offered. “I said I’d have you home by ten.”

His words were reassuring and she felt her heart skip in her chest. She hadn’t been sure earlier in the evening if meeting him had been such a good idea. While their messages had been friendly enough, she wasn’t certain he really liked her that much. But his offer to get her home safely was sweet and much appreciated; the prospect of riding the bus so late at night had been making her a little anxious as the evening drew to a close. Perhaps he was just as nervous about the date as she had been.

“I’ll get my coat.” She smiled, getting to her feet.

***

The cool air sobered her up and she tucked her coat tightly around her midriff. “It’s getting cold.” She commented, though felt it was welcome.

“Yes.” He murmured, walking side by side with her along the pavement until they reached the point where the curb dipped into the road. “The taxis stop here.”

She turned to him, only just noticing the clear height difference between them. It was strangely comforting. “Thank you for buying me dinner.” She smiled.

“Did you like it?” He asked.

“Yes.” She confirmed, quickly adding. “Thank you.”

Taehyung pointed to a black cab which indicated right at the end of the road in the distance before pulling into the side street. “This will be for you.” He confirmed. “I texted ahead.”

Da-eun looked up with a polite nod. “Thank you.” She wondered what came next; whether she should bring up the topic of a second date. The dinner had been nice, and she had warmed to him considerably during the course of the meal, but she couldn’t be sure whether he felt the same. Taehyung gave a little wave to the car which pulled into the taxi bay beside them.

“It was nice to meet you.” He said, watching her tuck the handbag beneath her arm a little more securely. She waited to see if he would say any more and when he didn’t, took a tentative step towards the cab, feeling awkward. He moved away and, noticing from the corner of her eye, she took it as a sign the date was over. Da-eun gently loosened her grasp against her purse and pulled open the zipper, knowing that while she hadn’t opened it during the date, she was strangely prone to losing things. Noting that her bank card and phone were accounted for, she allowed herself a quick glance over her shoulder and saw Taehyung walking away, back in the direction of the restaurant. He looked a little cold in his thin shirt and black trousers, and she wondered if he had left the rest of his belongings inside. Disappointed, but unsure what else she had expected, she turned back to the car and gave a small wave to the driver who gave one back in reply. She considered whether she should get in the front seat, though knew she would be useless at making conversation during the trip. Instead, she reached for the handle to the back.

“Do you have everything?” The voice behind her took her by surprise and she jumped a little, almost dropping her purse in the process. She turned towards Taehyung, failing to hide her shock, but managed a nod.

“Yes, I think so.”

“Good…” He murmured, breath turning to mist in the cold air. He fell silent before stepping forward. “Can I kiss you?”

Her mouth opened uselessly, though she knew she must have managed a nod because a moment later his lips were pressing against her cheek, his touch soft as he pecked her gently, the sound filling her ear. He was surprisingly warm despite the cold night, and she felt a tingle after he had pulled away; her nostrils briefly filled with his dark, woody scent. The fragrance was unfamiliar, though she hadn’t much experience with colognes, and it filled her stomach with butterflies.

“Goodnight…” He whispered, straightening up.

She blinked stupidly in reply. “Yes.”

“Text me when you get home.” He requested, reaching out to tuck untuck the collar of her thick coat, as though protecting her from the cold, before he turned to leave. “I want to make sure you’re safe.”

She nodded, though her voice was suddenly quiet; she felt like a mouse. “I will.”

The driver seemed to be growing inpatient behind the wheel and she gave a final wave as Taehyung set off once more in the direction of the restaurant, briefly turning back to watch her get inside before the car pulled away from the edge of the curb.

PART THREE

Earlier that evening…

“That sounded difficult.” Max smiled, automatically switching to English now they were alone and the apartment was finally silent. The cries from upstairs had only begun to taper off during the past five minutes, and the relief was apparent on Cassandra’s face as she gave a knowing smirk in reply and sat on the sofa, leaning into his touch as he wrapped one arm casually around her shoulder, bundling her against him. “It was the bastard sugar.” She replied in the same language, making him chuckle.

“One won’t hurt him.” He protested lightly. She rolled her eyes dramatically, realising he was taking Taehyung’s side in this.

“As long as you’re the one to stay up with him when he inevitably wakes up at 3am bouncing off the walls…”

He looked at her, holding his palms out with an easy smile. “I offered, didn't I?”

Cassandra looked around the small room, only just noticing. “Is he gone?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I gave him a beer.”

“How chivalrous of you.” She quipped dryly, tucking herself closer, body heavy with exhaustion.

“He seemed stressed.” Max shrugged, mispronouncing the final syllable, drawing it out.

“Yeah…” She murmured, growing silent in thought. “For a second I didn’t think he’d go.” She admitted.

“First dates are scary.” He agreed.

Cassandra pulled back to look up at him, her cheek pressing against his lower chest as she grinned mischievously. “Was it scary dating me?”

He shrugged against her, matching her smile. “You are easy to talk to.” He thought for a moment. “And my Korean is not that good yet.” He added.

“Me neither…”

He grinned, whispering. “You lie.” She laughed softly in reply as he looked at her, tucking a dark lock of hair behind her ear and smoothing her cheek with his knuckles. “I’m very lucky.” He said soberly.

Her mouth twisted in a playful leer. “Oui.”

His smile remained. “Do you feel the same?” He asked.

“Oui.”

He sighed dramatically. “You know my French is no good.”

“Non?” She teased, voice heavily accented.

“Non…” He agreed, bending down to meet her lips in a gentle kiss. He cupped her jaw, opening his mouth against hers and meeting her tongue as it brushed his softly, before pulling away and welcoming the feel of her weight against her body.

“He seems like a good guy.” Max admitted and she shifted against him, eyebrow raised.

“Taehyung?”

He nodded. “He’s good with the baby.” He said, falling silent when she didn’t reply. A thought had been playing on his mind, though he had never asked. Now, the timing seemed right. “Were you ever worried how he would react?”

“To having a baby?” She questioned.

Max gave a sound in confirmation. “He’s young.” He explained.

“Honestly…” She said, shrugging. “Yes.”

“I mentioned us going to see my family in the summer.” He gave her arm a gentle squeeze.

She looked up at him, voice turning stern in disbelief. “You didn’t…”

He moved his shoulders; his shrug shaking her against him. “He was okay with it.”

Cassandra frowned, a little shocked. “Really?”

“He said it was up to you.”

Another eye roll. “How kind of him…”

Max looked at her, observing her expression. “Did you think he’d stop you?” He asked, genuinely curious.

She grew quiet, before answering carefully. “I don’t see how he could.” She gave a small sigh. “We’re not together anymore.”

He couldn’t help but grin, gently touching her nose with his index finger. “Fortunate for me…” He smoothed it along her bridge lovingly before moving to her forehead, trailing it across her skin. “Shall we book the plane?”

She didn’t answer at first, and Max wondered if he should repeat the question, before she chimed in, a little tentatively. “I’m not sure Gabriel could handle the long flight.”

“I flew to Australia when I was his age.” He explained.

She shook her head against him. “I don’t want to put him through it yet.” Her hand reached for his and she held it lightly, hoping he wouldn’t take offence. “Maybe this time you could visit them yourself…until he’s older.”

“We can talk about it later.” He agreed, wrapping his fingers around hers and giving her hand a soft, reassuring squeeze. The sweater she was wearing had ridden down her chest a little, and he eyed her cleavage for a moment, before dipping his spare hand lower to cup a breast. She had closed her eyes, but gave a murmur of approval as he closed his fingers around her flesh, massaging her a couple of times before slipping his fingers beneath the hem of her sweater to brush the cup of her bra.

“Are you sure he’s asleep?” He whispered.

She nodded against him, grumbling sleepily. “For now.”

He dipped lower, sliding beneath the thick fabric to tease a nipple and welcoming her sigh as he brushed the sensitive bud. “Do you want to?” He asked, watching her eyes open.

“Can we do it here?” She asked, pulling away from his body to change position. “I don’t want to wake him.”

“Okay.” He agreed, taking her cue as she laid along the length of the sofa, facing away from him. He tucked himself behind her, already feeling himself stiffen beneath his trousers as she nestled her backside against the forming bulge. She wriggled a little, trying to get comfortable and he groaned in response, unfastening the button on his jeans and letting out an inpatient gasp as she reached behind with one hand to feel him through the fabric. She offered a long, slow squeeze which made him buckle into her grasp, untucking the edge of his boxer shorts as he pulled them down a little to free himself. Reaching around her body, he moved under her sweater, stroking her stomach gently before palming her breast once more through the fabric as she sought out his cock, wrapping her digits around his thickness and jerking him roughly against her covered backside.

“Is this good?” She whispered, keeping her voice low.

“Amazing…” He spluttered. “I’m not hurting you am I?”

“No…” She sighed, tightening her grasp.

“Your nipple is so hard.” He remarked, tweaking it a little through the padding as she unfastened her jeans with one hand, tugging the fabric along with her underwear down just enough to expose herself to him.

“Touch me…” She gasped, moving her hand to his and placing it between her thighs where he smoothed his fingers along the curved outline of her pubis, running through the dark mat of curled hair before dipping between her folds.

“I love your hair.” He whispered against her ear, panting at the sensation as she squeezed along with length.

“My cunt?” She moaned, moving her lower body against his fingers, encouraging him to explore further.

“Yes…” His breath was warm against her face and neck as he kissed the skin there sensually, tongue flicking against her.

“Say it.” She begged.

“I love your cunt.” He repeated back to her, moving his hips in time with her motions, pushing into her palm as the tip slipped across her fleshy backside, humping her.

“Do you want to fuck me?” Cassandra asked, breath catching in her throat.

“Yes…” He pleaded.

“Put your cock in me?”

He groaned loudly in reply and she held him tighter.

“Fill me with your cum?”

His voice hitched as he tried to speak. “Fill you…” He wandered off, giving a final grunt as he spilled himself into her hand, trying to catch his breath as he stilled against her. She realised, too late, what had happened and slowed her motions, uncurling her digits from around him and pulling away.

“God…” Max cried, bending over to kiss her cheek. “You’re so hot.” His voice came in jagged as he murmured against her cheek. “I couldn’t help it.” His eyes moved to her hand and he shifted against her, sitting up on the sofa as she moved around to rest her feet on the floor. “Let me get that…” He quickly offered, reaching for the wet wipes on the coffee table and wiping her digits before she could protest. He bundled the tissue and dropped it absently in the garbage can beside the sofa, pressing his lips back to her face. “You look so sexy.” He mumbled against her cheek, hands moving to squeeze her bare arse cheeks.

Cassandra pulled away, a little sleepily. “So do you.” She reached for her jeans, meaning to pull them back up but he beat her to it, pushing her hand away gently.

“Let me do something for you…”

She watched silently as he knelt on the floor, fitting himself between the sofa and table and looking up at her with wide, blue eyes. His intent was obvious, and Cassandra passively sat back in the chair as he stroked along her thigh, fingering the edge of her clothes and sliding them down her legs. He discarded them on the floor and she placed both feet on the sofa, spreading herself wide for him and watching as he leaned forward. His lips were gentle as they kissed along her labia, holding her open with two fingers and licking her folds with the tip of his tongue. She closed her eyes, blindly reaching for him as he tucked himself closer and stroking the strands of hair at the back of his neck. He moaned in reply to her touch as she held him against her, letting out an approving groan as he kissed her clitoris lightly, peppering it with soft, sucky kisses before focusing on her inner thigh which he showered with equal affection. She felt her eyelids growing heavy and forced them open, wanting to watch and appreciate him as he moved back to her clitoris which he sucked between his lips.

“That’s nice…” She whispered, encouraging him nearer. He wrapped his arms around the backs of her thighs, opening his mouth against her. The moans she gave in response were genuine, though she feared she lacked the energy to reach her peak. Giving a last attempt, she splayed her fingers across the back of his head, holding him to her as he licked across her clitoris in small, circular motions. He groaned once more against her body, clearly enjoying the act, and she hadn’t the heart to ask him to stop. Shifting on the sofa slightly, she let go of his head and ran her fingers lightly through the pale, blonde strands, increasing the sounds of her breathing steadily until she forced a series of raspy, throaty gasps and stilled against him. He pressed a lingering kiss against her inner labia, just above her cunt, and she eased him away gently. He looked up at her with a soft smile and she met it affectionately.

“Thank you.” She whispered, kissing him softly when he moved up her body and opened his lips against hers. “Is it too early for bed?” She asked when he pulled away, stroking his stubbled cheek with her index finger.

He shook his head. “No. Do you want a nightcap?”

She thought for a moment before getting to her feet, bending down for her discarded underwear. “I want to keep a clear head in case Gabriel wakes up.”

He reached for her spare hand and she took it as he pulled her into a loose embrace. “Okay.”

***

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tulipsandcorgis · 3 years ago

Note

Hii , hope you're well

Since you're open to crazy prompts i would like to contribute one!

What if Kate goes to duel someone who tries to take advantage of Edwina? And Edwina obviously panics and goes to the Bridgerton for help and she gathers all the Bridgerton brothers to go and stop Kate. Anthony's obviously furious because she's willing to kill herself (hypocrite) and drags them all back to his lodgings.

I'm sorry if its such a long prompt i simply had to share the idea! Thank you for all your fics!!

unsurprisingly, a long (and very interesting) prompt results in a long(-ish) answer! so here’s 1.5k words of anthony not realizing he’s afraid to lose kate, colin contributing very little to the conversation, and benedict and edwina just going along for the ride, i suppose. also featuring brief appearances by daphne and lady danbury, and mentions of an original(-ish) character. not sure if this 100% works with the canon timeline, since this is set before anything happens between kate and anthony (aka no kiss in the study has happened yet).

anyway, thank you so much for trusting me with your idea! without further ado, here it is:

“She did what?” Anthony exclaimed, staring at Edwina with a wide-eyed expression on his face. The crease between his eyebrows had deepened significantly, and it almost looked as if he were about to pop a vein in his forehead.

“Well, we were just preparing to leave Lady Trowbridge’s ball tonight — you were there, too. As were you, and you.” Edwina said hurriedly, glancing at Benedict and Colin. “And Kate saw Lord Mountbatten approach me, and before I knew it, she’d challenged him to a duel.”

“Why?” Benedict questioned, having clearly not witnessed the encounter, and Anthony gritted his teeth.

“Edwina, forgive my language, but you sister is a bloody fool.” He spat, clenching his jaw and massaging his temples with his thumb and forefinger.

Edwina paid no attention to his comment, and turned to Benedict. “He gripped my waist quite hard, you see, and made some comment about how lovely our children would be, and then Kate appeared. I’ve never seen her so furious. And then, well, she said something along the lines of wanting to demand satisfaction.”

She shuddered at the memory of Mountbatten’s mouth near her ear during a dance, his calloused palms gripping her waist with much more force than was strictly necessary. But then, much to her relief, Kate had showed up.

Benedict’s face contorted into a look of genuine disgust, and Colin’s eyebrows raised.

“Well, where is she?” He asked, almost conversationally, as if absolutely nothing was wrong. Anthony pondered fratricide for a brief moment. “I could always be her second.”

“You will do no such thing,” Anthony interrupted, glaring at his brother before turning back to the group. “This is madness. Mountbatten is a skilled marksman. With his finger on the trigger, Kate would die before the ten paces are even up!”

Edwina gasped. “We need to find her, quickly.”

Benedict patted her shoulder softly. “We will, don’t worry.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, brother.” Anthony snapped, before grabbing Edwina’s hand and leading her out of the study. “Now, I suppose we should find your sister before she gets herself killed.”

“Daphne told me that she and Kate were heading over to Lady Danbury’s after the ball,” Colin supplied. “Given these… unforeseen circumstances, we don’t know if she’s still there, but it wouldn’t hurt to check.”

Much to everyone’s relief. Anthony agreed, and the group quickly made their way to Lady Danbury’s residence, with Colin still offering advice, probably to ease Edwina’s anxiety.

“You know, I could still be her second,” He offered, turning to Edwina. “After all, I do know where Anthony keeps the pistols.”

The girl’s eyes widened in surprised, and Anthony frowned. “If anyone is to be her second, it will be me.” He said firmly. “Seeing as Benedict and I are the only two people here who actually know the rules of dueling.”

Colin rolled his eyes. “If you’re talking about the incident with Hastings, I was also there,” He reminded his brother, but Anthony was having none of it.

He picked up his pace, relieved to see that Danbury’s house was in view. Benedict, Colin, and Edwina struggled to keep up as Anthony practically raced across the cobblestones, bounded up the steps, and pounded on the front door.

“Christ, you’re going to give Lady Danbury a heart attack,” Colin muttered, and Anthony shot him a look.

A footman opened the door, and Anthony practically pushed past him, leading Edwina through the house, with the other two brothers hot on their heels.

In the dimly lit drawing room, the only light coming from a roaring fire in the fireplace, sat Lady Danbury, Daphne, and Kate.

“Ah, Bridgertons!” Lady Danbury grinned, nodding at Edwina. “And a Sharma, as well. Come to collect your sisters, I presume?”

Benedict muttered a quick, “Something of that sort,” as Anthony said, with the last shred of politeness left in his body, “I’m afraid we don’t have time for small talk tonight, Lady Danbury.”

He shot the older woman a strained smile, then turned his attention to Kate, who sat on the sofa with Daphne at her side. He shooed his sister away, and ushered her and everyone else, except for Kate and Edwina, from the room. Now it was just him, the Sharma sisters, and Anthony’s rage — which burst from him as soon as the drawing room door clicked shut.

“What on earth do you think you’re playing at?” He hissed, his eyes burning with a fire that was similar to the very one roaring on the coals in the fireplace. “Your sister—“ He pointed at Edwina. “She arrives at Bridgerton House and tells me you’ve demanded to duel with Lord Mountbatten!”

Kate rolled her eyes and stood. “He—“

“He made a comment to your sister, yes, but that is hardly something to duel over, Miss Sharma. Do you know Lord Mountbatten is one of the best marksmen in the ton?”

“No,” She said, eyeing him closely. “But—“

“He can kill you, Kate.” Anthony told her, his voice deathly serious, and her eyes widened. “Kill. You.” He repeated, either to get the words through her silly skull, or, perhaps, his.

Anthony stepped closer, his manners being swallowed up by the anger and fear growing in his chest. “He would aim that tiny bullet right here—“ He pointed to a spot just below her collarbone. “And you’d be gone before the doctor on site could get to you.”

She swallowed thickly, lowering her eyes to where his finger hovered in the air, just several inches from her skin. The air crackled with something electric and unsaid, and Anthony felt his jaw unclench as he lowered his hand.

“That won’t happen.” Kate said finally, looking past him, at her sister.

“You don’t know that.” He barked out a twisted sort of laugh, the sound almost getting caught in his throat. “If you did, you wouldn’t have demanded satisfaction in the first place. Seriously, what were you thinking?”

He turned away, his eyes burning from something that must have been the smoke from the fireplace - nothing else could’ve caused it, he was convinced - and looked at Edwina. Whatever words he intended on saying were forgotten once he heard Kate’s unforgettably calm voice reach his ears.

“Lord Bridgerton—“

“Miss Sharma, you must know that there is a person in this room who is very intent on not losing you!” He cried out angrily, interrupting her and effectively silencing both sisters. The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire, his pocket watch ticking, and his heavy breathing. He sighed.

“I know that your sister would rather you not die because of your protective and impulsive nature. My sister felt the same about me just a year ago.” Anthony admitted, looking down at his boots.

“And I realize that.” Kate responded quietly. “Which is why I rescinded my demand for satisfaction as the ball came to a close. Lord Mountbatten was… strangely understanding, and admitted that his comment was made impulsively, as well. Everything is more than alright now.”

“Oh.” Anthony said aloud, and Edwina breathed a sigh of relief, rushing forward to hug her sister.

“Well, Mountbatten’s foot isn’t,” Kate mumbled as she hugged Edwina, a devilish sort of smile spreading across her face as she caught his eye.

Anthony bit his lip to keep a laugh from escaping him. Good God, how many toes had she stepped on?

Soon after that, as he led the sisters to the drawing room door, Kate nudged his arm with her elbow.

“Why’d you do that?” She asked. “You know, come here to save me from death and whatnot?”

Anthony paused. He didn’t know how to respond. He really didn’t know why he was so set on stopping Kate from dueling. Was it because he knew how quickly one’s life could change due to a single moment, how a family could be irreparably altered by death? Or, perhaps, it was because he was so desperate for her to stop objecting to his suit of Edwina.

“Well,” He said, stalling slightly. “I suppose it’s because I care.”

“Oh.” She sounded genuinely surprised.

“About your sister.” Anthony finished, trying to ignore the way her face hardened. “Losing someone can be terribly difficult, and I would never want my future wife to known that kind of pain so soon.”

Edwina would have to accept his death in nine years, at most, but it wouldn’t matter all that much, since they weren’t likely to get very attached to one another.

“So you wanted to be a hero?” Kate muttered, walking through the doorway and joining Benedict, Colin, Daphne, Edwina, and Lady Danbury.

“I suppose.” He shrugged, and she rolled her eyes.

“Well, you’re not one yet. Keep trying, I suppose,” She replied, before taking Edwina’s arm and heading to the front door, with Daphne in tow. For a brief moment, Anthony wished that he could accompany the sisters home, instead of his sister.

And as he bid Lady Danbury goodbye, prepared to walk back to Bridgerton House to drop off Benedict and Colin, and finally head to his own lodgings, he was struck by the oddest feeling that when he became a hero, Kate would be there to see it.

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sirowsky · 4 years ago

Text

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group.

(Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, buried trauma, mentions of tortured and murdered children, furious Marcus.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: We learn a bit more history on the Heroics as a whole, and something Reader’s been supressing, that leads to some new developments concerning her powers.

(Again I apologise for the crossover GIF, but really Narcos just has the best ones. Also, let me know if it’s yours and I’ll credit you!)

Chapter 39

Wisconsin was getting cold this time of year, and you were frustrated. Verity had really outdone himself this time. He’d positioned himself right smack in the middle of suburbia, on Barbara Lane, in De Pere, Green bay, forcing you to take twice as many safety precautions as usual, before you could see him.

You’d asked Marcus after the first time you’d met the truth-seeker, if it wouldn’t be less dangerous and more inconspicuous for him to come to you, instead of you having to travel all over the country to find him. But Marcus had explained that he had adapted a lifestyle that meant that he was never in one place for more than two days, in order to stay ahead of any team that HQ might send out to investigate his energy-signature.

He rarely used his ability to the extent that the new and more powerful sensors could detect it, but on the few occasions when he had, he’d found himself having company some time later. Their response time varied depending on where in the country he was, and whenever he was closer to the west coast, his temporary lodgings were always significantly shorter.

Allen had been quiet for most of the journey, deep in his thoughts, but when you started getting close to your destination, the old man started talking.

“I built most of HQ, you know. The Heroic organisation.”

“Yeah, you were one of the founders, right? One of the first non-powered people to suggest that supers might need help to become actual heroes. You got them to talk to one another, start building relationships, creating the friendships that would ultimately turn them into a team.”

“It was almost impossible to get those knuckleheads to coincide. There were only four of them back then, and they all wanted the glory and heroism to themselves, fighting for the spotlight every chance they got. We really thought our efforts weren’t gonna do anything.”

“What changed it around?”

“Anita Moreno.”

“Hah… of course she did.”

“When she came along, young and determined and confident, she elbowed out their failing attempts at leadership by actually taking charge, and making them listen to reason. By way of a beat-down if necessary.”

“That, I can believe. And I’d have loved to see it.”

“She was fearless of their powers and their masculinity, their macho-bullshit. And before long, she had them training to improve their skillsets, studying the politics of the world, saying that if they were gonna insist on meddling in other cultures, then it was also their responsibility to understand what the hell they were meddling with.”

“And that’s where you took the opportunity, I’m guessing?”

“I reached out to Anita, offering financial support in creating a training-facility for the supers, a kind of recreational area, where they could play with their abilities, test themselves against each other, without risking harm to anyone. She really liked the idea, and asked me to find out if anyone else would be interested in helping them, and over time, that’s how the Heroics were born.”

“And now it’s been tainted.”

“I don’t know that it hasn’t been completely destroyed already.”

“Henry, the organisation can never be destroyed, not as long someone’s around to fight back. And you’d better believe we are.”

“What have you brought me today, Rainbow?”

A little while later, you finally stepped into the house, and Verity’s energy hit you. Since he knew you couldn’t use your power to greet him anymore, he called to you from the kitchen and you guided Allen there.

The poor man was already pale.

“Someone I really hope you’re about to tell me I can trust.”

“A founder… this is a first. Your heart is filled with love, for your family, mostly, but that also makes you susceptible to great fear. Right now, you fear what will be left of your legacy once this mess is made public. You fear that the Heroics will be shut down, and that your life’s work will go down in history as nothing but a failed experiment. You love your creation, it gives you great pride, but you fear it too. The power it’s accumulated, and how the politics have gotten more and more in control of it. But you are innocent of any crime or conspiracy. You are, at heart, a good man.”

Allen looked like he might vomit, so you helped him to sit down and brought him a glass of water.

“Who are you?”

Verity never answered that question, no matter who was asking, so you sat down next to Henry to explain.

“He’s a very special super, that you can never mention to anyone. If you do, he’ll disappear, and we’ll have no way of knowing who’s trustworthy or not.”

“He can tell the truth? I never even spoke…”

“Verity sees the truth, like a web around people. I don’t know exactly how it works, but he can see everything, past and present. Every lie and every truth of your entire existence.”

“Incredible. And really unnerving.”

“Yes, but worth it. Thanks to him we have over 120 trusted operatives working for us all over the world, and that’s not including the Heroics.”

“That’s… impressive. But I fear this enemy is going to need much greater numbers than that, to be defeated.”

“Maybe. But 89 of those operatives are supers, and that evens the odds significantly.”

“What? But… we scan for people with abilities all over the world, we would know if that many existed.”

“Not if they’d been hiding their powers. We figured that anyone who was on the Heroics radar, would most likely be on SIC’s as well, so we focused entirely on reaching out to those that we knew were hidden. And in that process, we uncovered a whole community of powered people that want nothing to do with the fame or recognition, and once they understood the stakes, they all agreed to help us. And they, in turn, are reaching out to their friends, normal and super, to join the fight. Our numbers grow every day, Henry. We can beat these assholes; we just need a little more time.”

Verity’s energy focusing on you, broke your concentration, and you turned to look at him.

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure. Something… something in your memories.”

“If it’s my memory then why can’t you see it clearly?”

“It’s been hidden. It’s a memory you can’t see yourself.”

Your skin crawled and your heartbeat picked up, in an involuntary response to any kind of mention of your time with the mad doctor. Verity noticed.

“A painful memory. Something you don’t want to remember.”

“I don’t want to remember any of it, V.”

“Tubes, wires, machines, syringes. Your body remembers. Your cells do.”

“Pain… so much pain, your nerves remember all of it. You fought him. You bit him twice, escaped your bindings once, almost got out. He punished you for that by pouring battery-acid on your feet. He was so confident that his experiment would work that he didn’t care how much damage he caused you in the process.”

Lost in his search into your mind, Verity slowly started moving towards you, centring all his power on you, desperate to uncover everything that was hidden. You weren’t sure if he was even aware of how overbearing he was in that moment. How threatening.

He had never come across a truth he couldn’t see before, and it made him obsessive and ruthless in his pursuit of it. A part of you knew that, but your reptile brain was overcome with a sense of danger, and you backed away from him, but he followed you.

“V… please, stop.”

He didn’t even hear you.

“You’re hiding from me. I can feel the memory so clearly, wrapped in a bubble I can’t penetrate. I need to know what it is.”

He was pushing so much of his energy into your mind to try and break that bubble, that you started feeling unnaturally heavy. Your body suddenly felt like it was moving through liquid, meeting so much resistance that it exhausted you just to take a single step.

You collapsed to the floor, struggling to breathe, and still he didn’t let up. He towered over you, and somewhere in the background you heard Allen trying to reason with him, but then a splitting pain shot through your head, and you passed out.

“You stay the fuck away from me, V!”

You woke up lying on the sofa in the living room, your head still throbbing and the light burning your eyes. But from what little you could make out, Verity was sitting on a chair right next to you, and it made the bear inside you wake up with full force.

You launched yourself at him, placing a hard fist at his solar plexus, and when he involuntarily crunched forwards, his face had a very abrupt meeting with your elbow.

He fell backwards, toppling the chair over and breaking it as he hit the floor, bleeding from his nose and cheek-bone.

Allen rushed into the room from the kitchen, holding a pack of ice he’d apparently been getting for you. You wobbled over to him and swiped it from his hands to put against your right temple, while Verity slowly got to his knees.

“I saw it. The memory you were hiding, I was able to break your defence the moment before you lost consciousness.”

“I don’t care.”

“He did it in front of you. He strapped children into that chair, and made you watch as he drained them. He made you watch their strength gradually leave them as the pain got to be too much. You saw the faces of at least nine of them, wordlessly begging you for help.”

“I trapped those memories away for a reason, you asshole. Just because you need the truth like a fucking addict, doesn’t mean I do!”

The images came to you as he voiced them. You remembered those faces, fifteen of them, actually. You remembered their pain, and how much you wished that you could have borne it for them. How gladly you’d have sacrificed yourself for them, if you could have.

That was why your powers had manifested into what they did. That was why you couldn’t heal yourself, because in that time and place, you truly didn’t care if you died.

You slumped against the nearest wall and slowly allowed yourself to sink to the floor. Your head was still throbbing, and you were beyond angry.

“You do need to know this.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me! You don’t get to torture me, V, that’s what the fucking bad guys do!!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, that is as close to a god damned lie as you’ve ever gotten! You don’t give a shit if your powers hurt me, as long as you get your fucking truth. If you’re sorry about anything, it’s that I’m not grateful for your efforts. Go ahead, tell me I’m wrong!”

He didn’t speak. He just sat there, looking as unbothered about everything as he always did.

“Allen, get me the hell out of here.”

“Hermosa? What’s wrong?”

You took a cab from the airport, and fell asleep about halfway home. The driver had a calm and rhythmic manner that soothed you, and he was listening to John Williams play the Concierto de Aranjuez, with the soft guitar notes making your frayed mind drift away to a warm and sunny Spain.

He woke you by gently announcing that you’d arrived at your destination, and you paid him and thanked him for his kindness, before getting out and walking towards the gate in the fence. Your legs felt like lead.

You could hear Marcus and Missy through the front door as you approached it, ingulfed in playing some boardgame, and you stopped and just listened to them for a while, leaning heavily against the door.

Your darling Missy, the same age as several of those children. But alive and happy and such a wonderful person already.

And Marcus. Your reason for living. The one that saved you, and kept saving you, despite the darkness that accompanied you.

You hadn’t kept your word about checking in with him, so when you texted him while you were waiting at the airport in Green Bay, he’d been furious at first, wanting to know why he hadn’t heard from you in almost five hours. But he’d quickly calmed as you’d simply reminded him that since he was hearing from you now, you were obviously okay, and you’d tell him everything when you saw him.

But now, standing behind that door, you didn’t want to tell him. You didn’t want to talk about it, and you didn’t want to burden him with knowing it. But you also knew that he’d see it on your face the moment you walked in. You were too tired and in too much pain still, to even try and keep up any appearances.

You took a breath, and walked inside. Marcus was on his feet the moment the door swung open, and he swept you into a tight hug as soon as he got to you, but the mildness of your response immediately had him worried.

“Could you just keep your voice down a bit, please. My head’s killing me.”

“Where you in a fight?”

He looked closer at you upon hearing that, and he realised that you were actually in terrible shape. He swept you up into his arms and carried you to the bedroom, while asking Missy to come and help him prepare a bath for you.

She went straight to the bathroom and turned on the taps, and you could hear her going into the cabinets to pull out fresh towels.

In the meantime, Marcus was helping you out of your clothes, and noticed a big black bruise on your elbow.

“No… just felt cornered.”

“By who?”

“...Verity.”

His whole posture changed, and you could feel a sudden rage emanating from him.

“Tell me what he did.”

“I’m too tired right now…”

“Querida, look at me. Tell me.”

“He… broke into the memories I’d hidden… the one’s he couldn’t see before.”

“The one’s Prince had altered?”

“No… the one’s I buried. The one’s that were too horrible… He forced them out, and now my head feels like it’s breaking apart.”

“Why would he hurt you like that?”

He picked you up again and moved you into the bathroom. Missy only stayed until the tub was full and she could close the taps, and then she hugged you gently and slipped out of the room.

Marcus took the last of your clothes off before lowering you into the warm water, and when you asked him to join you, he did, holding you close and softly stroking your skin under the water.

“He can’t stand lies, and apparently that applies to secrets as well. He just had to know; consequences be damned.”

“He’ll regret that tomorrow.”

“Don’t bother. He won’t admit to any wrong-doing. And we still need him.”

“I don’t give a fuck. The only reason I agreed to let you go was because I thought you’d be safe with him.”

“I don’t have anymore secrets for him to try and uncover now. So, technically I will be, from now on. Not that I ever wanna see him again.”

“You won’t have to. I’ll deal with him.”

“We’re still at war, honey. We’re gonna have to do a lot of things we’d rather not.”

“Fuck the war, I’ll turn my back on the whole damned thing and take you to live with the fucking penguins if that’s what it takes. I’m so tired of seeing you in pain!”

“Oh, please, keep your voice down…”

“Sorry.”

You sat in silence for a while, as the warm water started to open up your capillaries, easing your headache a bit.

“Are you gonna tell me?”

You knew what he was asking, and you really wanted to say no, but you also knew that you needed to tell him.

“Prince made me… he made me watch.”

The tears burned in your eyes, and you tried to chase the memories away, to lock them back into that little bubble where they couldn’t hurt you. But it was too late.

“Watch what?”

You didn’t want to say it out loud. It felt as though that would somehow solidify the images into reality, making them truly inescapable. He could feel your resistance, and tried to soothe you with his current, but it wasn’t enough this time.

“The… ch-children. He made me… watch them die.”

“Oh, my god…”

The next morning you felt better. The headache had eased with some real sleep and you were starting to feel human again. Marcus was right next to you, his arms securely wrapped around you while he slept, but he stirred the moment you did. It was still early enough that your monday alarms hadn’t gone off yet.

You felt him swallow repeatedly against the bile and grief that surged up in his throat as he realised what you were saying. He’d seen the lab. The extraction chair. And the freshest bodies that Prince hadn’t had time to get rid off before they found his lair. He’d seen how much pain they’d been in as they died, evident in their faces even after death.

He didn’t say anything else, and you didn’t need him to, you just needed him to hold you, and he did.

“Good morning, hermosa. Did you sleep okay?”

“Morning. Yeah, actually I did.”

“No bad dreams?”

“I think my headache might have made that impossible. It’s gone now, though.”

“Good. How do you feel about breakfast?”

“I’m looking forward to it. I still haven’t eaten in our kitchen yet.”

“Right. Eggs and toast?”

“Please.”

You went about your morning toilet and wash, before heading out to the kitchen together. Missy was already at the island, having cereal and flipping through a schoolbook, and since Marcus was already pulling out the frying pan to get started on the eggs, you sat down with her, before the school bus would get there.

“Morning, angel. Test today?”

“Yup. Maths. I got it, though.”

“Oh, I believe that, you’re good at maths. Break a leg anyway.”

“Thanks, alma. I’m aiming for top scores.”

“I like your aim.”

“Don’t worry, preciosa, her protection is in place.”

Marcus had just sat down a plate in front of you when the bus honked, and Missy ran out the door while shouting she loved both of you.

You kept staring at the closed door after she’d disappeared through it, and Marcus knew what you were thinking.

“I know, but after yesterday… I just feel a bit more protective than usual.”

“That’s entirely understandable, but please try not to stress over it. You have another one to protect as well.”

“Right… Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, just breathe and eat calmly.”

“So, Allen got the all clear, I assume. Does that mean he’s in?”

You dug into the food and it was delicious. So much better than the airport food you’d eaten all day yesterday, even though it was just scrambled eggs and perfectly roasted toast, with those tomatoes on the side, that he’d promised you the day before.

Marcus let you finish before he started talking again.

“Yeah, he’s gonna coordinate for us at HQ, so we can keep our attention on the rest of the country, and world.”

“Is he okay?”

“Shaken, for numerous reasons, but determined to get his lives work back in order. He told me about the early days, and how he and your mom whipped the first supers into heroes.”

“Really? Mom doesn’t talk about those days much. She’s told me a lot about my father, but not that much about herself.”

“Well, she seems to have been a tour de force all her life, from what Allen described. And after what you’ve told me about your dad, I can see why he would’ve fallen for her. They were a good match.”

“She always says that the best thing about him was how good he was at driving her up the walls, because it forced her to really look at him.”

“I see what she means.”

“I don’t drive you up the walls. Do I?”

“Mostly just in the mornings, when you know I’m not susceptible to ‘fun’, but other than that, you’re pretty well behaved.”

“Oh, no, the mornings don’t count.”

“And why the hell not?”

“Because your morning mood is way too amusing not to take advantage of.”

“Hey! That is so not fair, I can’t help it that my brain just won’t start on all cylinders at once. And, for the record, this is the second morning in a row that I haven’t been cranky first thing.”

His whole face lit up in a dazzling smile at that.

“Wow. That’s more than just a record, babe, that’s almost worthy of a mention on CNN.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Sorry to interrupt.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! How could you do that to her?! I have always been your friend, protected you, guided you, helped you any way I could… and you almost kill my wife!!”

A voice came from the living room, and with the way the house was designed, about half of that space was visible from the kitchen, while the other half was hidden behind the dining room.

He didn’t need to step into view from behind the wall that separated the two areas, for either of you to know who it was. The truth-seeker had a very recognisable tone and rhythm of speech. But when he did appear, you couldn’t help yourself from getting out of your chair and taking a few steps back towards the kitchen counter, needing as much space between you as possible.

Marcus, on the other hand, turned positively feral. He rushed Verity and wrestled him to the floor, while screaming at him.

“I would never have let her come to any harm.”

You’d never seen him angry like this. Usually he internalised it, afraid to let it loose because of what his powers might do, but this was more than anger. He felt betrayed by one of his oldest friends, and it enraged him in a way that didn’t even involve his powers.

He had Verity pinned on the floor and was sitting on top of him with his hands around his neck, every muscle in his body was tensed to the breaking-point and there where visible veins pulsing in his face, neck and arms.

“Are you seriously fucking lying to me right now?! You did harm her, you ignorant piece of shit! Just because she’s the strongest fucking person you’ve ever met, doesn’t mean you can’t hurt her! She could barely even walk!”

“But she’s not damaged. Her mind is intact.”

“I don’t believe this…I don’t fucking believe it!”

He got off of Verity and dragged him up to standing before shoving him down on the nearest chair, still keeping himself in between you and the trespasser. He paced in front of him while he continued to rail at him.

“Are you seriously telling me, that you don’t know the difference between physically harming someone, and hurting them? How is that even possible, with all the crap you went through as a kid? How do you not know the difference?!”

“It was a memory. Hiding them away only ever hurts you, I was trying to help her.”

“Did you see the fucking memory?!”

“Yes.”

“Tell me exactly how seeing those faces for the rest of her life is gonna help her!”

“It already has.”

His eyes shifted to yours, and you instinctively tried to back away further.

“That memory has already made you understand why you have the powers you do.”

His energy flowed through you, and it made you feel sick. You closed your eyes in a useless attempt to keep him out, but you felt him explore your mind again, bringing those images to the forefront of your thoughts.

“Seeing their suffering solidified everything that you are. Through all his torture and experiments, all you wanted was to live. But for them… you wanted to die. You wanted to exchange your life for theirs. That’s your true strength – your armour and your weapon. Look at their faces, Rain. See them and know who you are.”

“You think that just because you know the truth, you understand everything? Do you think you know how this feels? Do you think you have any idea how much this hurts me? Do you not even see how you’re manipulating me?”

Your blood suddenly boiled with fury. Who was he to command your thoughts? To impose his perspective on you? This man that had hurt you so badly, only to uncover a truth he had no right to.

The entire house shook as your powers awoke with a vengeance. You snapped your eyes back open just as Marcus turned back to look at you, realising what was happening.

But you loved this house, you weren’t gonna put a single fucking dent on it.

Reaching into that special place inside of you, where you’d learned you could find that sparkling dust, you drew it out and gathered it in large quantities on the floor in front of Verity. Then you allowed your mind to fill with the images of those innocent children, in their dying moments, and transferred those images into the dust.

Fifteen lifelike sculptures appeared in the sparkles, perfect re-creations of the dead and long forgotten sacrifices, that Verity had never met, never known, and yet felt he had the right to use like string-puppets.

He had the audacity to smile at your creations.

His smile faded as you spoke, but he made no attempt to apologise.

“You’re using my pain to force my hand. You know that my powers hurt me, and you force me to use them anyway. And for what? To try and prove you were right?”

“No. If anything, my efforts should tell you exactly how much we need your powers in this war. You asked me to help you win it. That’s all I’m doing.”

“And if our baby dies because of it, that’s just another sacrifice for the greater good?!”

The sculptures collapsed into mere piles on the floor, and you glared at him furiously, daring him to answer you.

“I don’t believe your baby will be harmed by your abilities.”

“Your beliefs are of no fucking relevance to me. Tell me if you would care… at all… if another child had to die in order for us to win this war?”

He paused, but not to consider his answer, only how you would react to it.

“No. I wouldn’t care. Wars kill people, of all ages, it doesn’t discriminate. Many more will die before it’s over, and if we’re going to be outraged over each and every one of them, then we won’t have time to fight.”

Marcus closed his eyes and bowed his head.

“That’s not the point, V. The point is that we only win if we still care. If we stop caring about life and suffering, then we might as well join the assholes. Can’t you see that?”

“I haven’t lived like you have, Marcus. Caring has never been a luxury I’ve been able to enjoy. I have nothing. No possessions, no family, one person I would call a friend, and whom, despite my best efforts, I do care about.”

“Then it should matter to you whether or not my family is safe and well.”

“It does, and they are. When I say that I don’t believe that your wife’s powers will harm your child, I’m not just guessing. I can see your powers, Rain, the core of them. And while they do damage you a little bit every time you use them, I don’t believe that that damage actually harms you. I believe it slowly changes you.”

“Changes me… Why? Into what?”

“I couldn’t say for sure, but I don’t think it’s that kind of change. I think it’s simply trying to make you stronger, physically. As in, superhumanly strong. Invincible. And if anyone’s body could – it’d be yours.”

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, please don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@allmyspideys

@blueeyesatnight

@hrk-fic-recs

@strawberryperegrine

@lucrezia-thoughts

@computeringturtle

@sarahjkl82-blog

@giselatropicana

@ayamenimthiriel

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno fic #we can be heroes #we can be heroes fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

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jolenelawson · 3 years ago

Photo

“Good Girl. „

FULL NAME: Jolene Britney Lawson NICKNAME(S): Joely, Brit AGE: 25 | February 1st, 1997 GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis, She/her FACE CLAIM: Maddison Brown EYE COLOR: Brown HAIR COLOR: Strawberry Blonde HEIGHT: 5′10″ OCCUPATION: Law student @ Cooper University, Intern @ Collins & Lieberman Law Firm HOMETOWN: Raleigh, NC NEIGHBORHOOD: Downtown

Quick Facts:

She moved to Williamsburg initially to attend Cooper University for undergrad, she then moved to Fallbrook despite going to Law school at Cooper as well to be closer to her family.

She’s incredibly religious but doesn’t use her religion to judge others. Instead, she uses it to wish well on anyone going through a hard time, including herself.

Though she loves both of her parents deeply, she is very much a daddy’s girl and comes to him with most things first.

She’s a huge sports fan, American football being her favorite.

Initially, she wanted to be a country singer but ultimately opted for the more ‘practical’ career path of being a lawyer.

She volunteers at an orphanage once a week, reading stories to the children.

She’s quite sheltered so certain topics shock her initially, but she’s got an open mind and heart so seldom do things disgust or upset her.

Born in Raleigh, North Carolina to Carrie and Trace Lawson, Jolene’s upbringing was set to be something built around the family’s love for God and all things surrounding the topic. From a very young age, she was in her church choir, going on the youth camping trips and building close bonds that surrounded their common faith. She absolutely love both of her parents, but her love for sports and all things that would typically be something a little boy would like was what caused her to become to daddy’s girl she was. In her little eyes at the time, Trace could do absolutely no wrong and she wanted to make him proud at all times.

Though she enjoyed her sports and all the things surrounding it, she also liked music, Barbie and leaning into just being girly. The older she got, the more feminine she would become. It was middle school when she begged her parents to let her go blonde and of course they said no. This would be the beginning of her slight rebellious stage. By rebellious all she really did was skip out on church a few weeks and eat sweets before dinner because she really wasn’t aware of all the other things she could do the act out. Sure, she had friends who were all taking part in things they shouldn’t have been, but Jolene never showed interest whenever they invited her.

High school was her first taste of Freedom and the initial interaction she had with Williamsburg and Fallbrook. Her church youth group took trips for their school breaks and she remembered for winter break they lodged in Williamsburg and for summer break, they spent a couple of weeks in Fallbrook. She was in her senior year at the time and she fell in love with a boy in Fallbrook. She was head over heels because he was perfect. He was different, funny, even if he wasn’t the perfect idea of a Christian boy with all his morals in the right place, he was amazing in her eyes. Of course this was just a summer fling and she opted to keep it to herself because she knew her parents wouldn’t like him very much and she didn’t want to have to fight for her love.

Though she truly wanted to be a famous country singer, she decided to be practical with her career choices and opted to study law. Initially, she studied Political Science at Cooper University and stayed on campus until last year when her family moved to Fallbrook. Her head was in the books for the most part, but she finally began truly living her life as a young adult, college parties, even joining a sorority. She had heard the concept of falling in love three times in one’s life. While she didn’t fully believe it, she did fall in love during this time. He was more her parents’ speed, a nice Christian boy with his priorities in a place that aligned with theirs. This would be the first boyfriend who was introduced to her parents, she was so sure the two of them would marry. In reality, she found herself growing bored, thinking about her previous summer love with a ‘bad boy’. She would eventually end it and focus on her sorority as she became the president of Alpha Chi Omega in her senior year.

Present day Jolene is highly self aware and she loves her ‘neighbor’ as if they are family. If anyone needs anything from her, she will provide as long as it’s within her means. She’s finishing law school and interning at a law office, simply trying to let her parents retire as early as possible with all of the money she plans to make as a lawyer.

#fallbrookintro

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lovely-necromancy · 3 years ago

Text

A Cure for Insomnia Ch 13

Waking up late was so not the plan for today.

What was supposed to be a nice lovely day is slowly turning into your personal hell. Racing around the kitchen trying to keep an eye on your potatoes as you cut up the other veggies for the pie. So you can shove it into the oven then get ready.

Christ why hadn't you thought to prep your ingredients earlier?

Thankfully the cobbler was super simple tossing the sugar and flour into the bowl followed by the a cup of lemonade. Perfect cobbler base. After the batter was creamy you threw in the freshly washed blackberries. They bled a deep red into the batter around them. You had high hopes as you topped it with butter and threw it into the oven.

Both dishes had very quick bake times so you weren't too worried or stressed about them taking forever. In all honesty the only reason you were frantically running around your kitchen was prepping the inside of the forager's pie. And giving the mashed potatoes an essence of rosemary and garlic as if you were a chef on par with Gordon Ramsey.

Should you do dishes?

No, there's no time to worry about that.

Soon the cobbler is out of the oven and you have replaced it with the two pans of forager's pie. You don't give the cobbler any time to cool as you place the aluminum lid to the pan so the heat stays.

With that taken care of you speed off to your room and grab your outfit. The mini pencil skirt you'd purchased yesterday paired with some shorts so you didn't have to be careful with your movements all day. A plain block colored shirt in a cute primary palette. Finishing with yellow converses.

Changing doesn't take long but you do take some extra time on your hair choosing to style it a bit different today. As you're debating on if you should put the time into a fun makeup look your neck snaps harshly to the right.

There is no crack but it did hurt like hell.

As if that had been a sign from God you opt for your normal look. There will be other events and times for you to do fun looks, but not today.

The oven beeps as the timer goes off letting you know the pies are ready. Just a sprinkle of cheese on top before you cover them with the lid and you are all set to go.

Checking the time you see it's nine-o-two, and while the picnic was scheduled for ten thirty you are a committee member and should be there early to help set up. So without anymore hesitation you are flying out of the house and into your car.

You rush back from placing the food in the backseat to make sure your door is locked.

It is and you are free to enjoy the day...you hope.

Speeding would be the biggest understatement of the year. You were practically at the lodge in fifteen minutes and bustling up to the door. Opening it you rush in ignoring anyone you pass by in your mad dash to the kitchen.

“Hello to you too.” Barclays voice carries from the stove as you whisk past him to place two of your pans on the counter.

“Hi, Tim?” you say out of breath from your one person marathon. Practically vibrating in place unwilling to loose your momentum despite your need for a second wind.

Barclay just points to the den and you're out of the kitchen just as fast as you had entered. Most patrons in the den don't spare you a second glance used to your whirlwind mannerisms when your trying to follow a deadline. As self appointed as it may be.

There is one trio however giving you a mix of concerned and amused looks. Which quickly turn into concerned and interest when you make a bee line straight for them.

“Hi,” you say to Toby and Brian before looking at Tim and pushing the cobbler at him, “Thanks again for last night.”

Tim can't even get a word out because as soon as he grabs the pan you're already back off to the kitchen. Determined to help Barclay with something before everyone starts moving to the Archway. You hear the chorus of chuckles coming from everyone as you leave a confused Tim, who now has to answer to the questioning glances of his friends, in your wake.

Barclay needed no help as you guessed but he was however open to you covering the food and stacking certain items together before helping to load everything into crates for easier transport. It wasn't long before the others start to make their way into the kitchen to get briefed on the plan.

You notice the trio being motioned in by Jake who holds the door open for them to make their way in too. Brian politely takes the door from Jake as Tim steps in place in front of him and Toby. The jerky movements of Toby's eyes as he scans the room is really hard to ignore. But it doesn't seem like he's looking for anything just taking note of who is in the kitchen and where they are.

“Ok, first thank you all for helping set up the picnic today. I really appreciate it.” Barclay's baritone voice says jostling you out of your thoughts to focus in on him.

“Second, we really don't have much to do for set up since most guests already have their baskets with them. We do have a few spares to lay down though. We'll be splitting off into three teams.” Barclay then points at you, Hollis, Jake, and Kirby.

“Team A is in charge of setting up the spare baskets.”

After getting your group's approval he continues down the line.

Team B consists of Brian, Tim, Toby, and Indrid. Their group is to bring out and set the tables that'll hold the food. Team C is Barclay, Aubrey, Dani, and Madeline. Team C will bring the main courses along with the heaters to keep everything warm.

With teams set and in place you all take to your positions and get a move on before the public arrives. You vaguely wonder why the Hornets aren't here yet but remember most had decorated and cleared out the Archway over the past couple of days. Pushing the thoughts away you grab two baskets and follow after your team. Thankfully there were only a few left over baskets, eight if you include Jake and Hollis' and then your own. Each member of your team carried two baskets through the thicket of trees until you reached the clearing of the archway.

It looked amazing, you'd only been out here one other time back when Bambi was still around. She took you out at night and the two of you just talked about anything and everything, including theories about the giant archway that towered over the clearing and just how it may have come to be. Back then it had been a field of long grass and purple wildflowers. The grass was so thick the two of you used sticks to move it and insure there'd be no snakes harmed in your late night hike. Now though the grass had been cut save for aesthetically calculated patches of wildflowers and clovers here and there. The field was absolutely perfect for the event, and with the gorgeous blue skies partially clouded the scenery really seemed to pop out.

Especially the small lake glittering just past the archway. You'd never noticed it before but then again you came here in the dead of night.

Getting back to work you set out on placing the spare baskets a reasonable distance from the others. Close enough to other blankets to feel included but far enough away to have their own space if that was their thing. When you had finished you take your own basket and join Hollis and Jake who finished placing their four baskets down faster with two people. They'd been setting up their own blanket on the outer rim of the perimeter, closer to the treeline than to the Archway. As if they were going to overlook the even and keep an eye out. Which they probably would be, just to ensure that everyone had fun and stayed safe.

Seeing you standing just a few feet away from the blanket Jake gives you his patented superstar smile.

“C'mon, join the party YN.”

With the easy going invitation you fix your blanket beside theirs. This way at one point or another you'd see a majority of your friends today as you knew for a fact they'd come over or be dragged over into seeing the couple beside you.

Kirby joins you three after lazily placing his baskets side by side closer to the archway. With the hustle and fuss of your prep work being done you can take a moment to take everything in.

“I love the shirt.” you say looking at Kirby's 'I'm not Allo but 20$ is 20$' shirt.

He gives a grin before presenting a folded up shirt out of his messenger bag.

“Thought you might...don't wear it now though. Don't want you copying my style, that'd be sad.” he jokes.

“Pfft, please everyone would know it's you who copied me.”

Jake and Hollis watch as the two of you continue your playful banter. Occasionally voicing whose side they were on, Hollis took Kirby's while Jake took yours. It was a fun way to pass the time as the other groups finished setting up.

Especially since you had Mr. Cool Guy himself on your side. How could you possibly not be the trend setter sibling with his vote.

Before long the other groups were also setting up their own baskets, which had been brought out by Barclay and Indrid a few hours earlier. And some Hornets started showing up not too long after that. Either rushing around trying to set up their baskets or sit down with friends after placing their food away. Though the event hadn't really started yet you could hear Aubrey starting up her music a few blankets away. She'd already gathered a small crowd that was chittering away.

Taking it all in you notice a certain trio looking incredibly awkward and out of place. You get up and make your way over to the men ready to invite them to sit with you. After all it's an eight person blanket it'd be a shame to sit all by yourself next to another full blanket.

Toby's dark eyes lock on to you first, you really suspect this boy has ADHD with his quick reflexes and spacial hyper awareness. He actually seems to deflate a bit, like the tension in his shoulders started to disappear the closer you got. You apparently weren't the only one to notice the subtle change in the brunette as Tim focused in on Toby. Meanwhile Brian clocked you just before you were within ten feet of their little group.

“Hey I have an empty blanket if you guys wanted to join.”

Just getting straight to the point was your thing. Most see your bluntness as rudeness but you just don't see a point in dancing around your message.

“Yea, that'd be nice.” Toby spoke before the other two could.

Smiling at him you hold a hand out for him to grab. You aren't really sure what possessed you to do that, but figure you must be in a rare tactile mood. Unlike when you're touched if you initiate the contact it doesn't hurt or squick you out. He grabs your hand and you can feel the scratch of his callouses. You remember Hollis said something about him being a mechanic, that would explain the tough hands.

You lead the trio over to your blanket where only Kirby sits, seems like didn't bring his basket and was going to share with you. Not that you mind at all, in fact this was the perfect time to introduce one friend to another.

“Kirby time to make a good impression.” you call out gaining his attention.

He takes a moment before taking note of the group you're guiding over. Kirby stands up to greet you all.

“Kirby this is my friend Tobias, and his roommates Tim and Brian.” you motion to the other two with your unoccupied hand.

Noticing for the first time that they have their hands interlocked. Not holding like you and Toby are but a more intimate hand hold.

'These bitches gay...good for them. Good for them.' is just playing on repeat as background noise in your head. Ignoring the loop in your brain you continue the introduction.

“This is Kirby, my brother or whatever.” Kirby snorts at your short introduction.

“I'll take it, 's a step up from gremlin.” he turns to the trio hand extended, “Nice to meet you guys.”

After the weird neurotypical ritual is over the five of you sit down and talk while you wait for the festivities to begin. Tim and Kirby dragging Brian along for the deep dive of god awful horror movies.

“You didn't mention a brother.” Toby says fiddling with your hand, someone really needs to get this guy a fidget toy.

“Huh? Oh no. No, not like that Kirby's more like a brother than my biological brother.” you pause while thinking how to explain this more articulately.

“We're just really similar and people thought we were dating, I guess, before we started calling each other 'sibling'.” it's really weird that that was even an issue. At least to you but Allos tend to be weird about mixed gender relationships.

For instance Brian and Tim can get written off as the best of best friends. But you and Kirby decide to sit next to each other for one Saturday Night Dead and the town is already waiting for wedding invites. Maybe this is a small town thing...you'll still blame the Allos.

Toby nods along, whether he actually understands or is trying to move from the topic you can't quite tell. You look down at his hand that's bending your fingers into your palm. His nail beds look better than last week you hope it means he wasn't picking at his skin. It's really not a great coping mechanism.

You let out a small sigh as you get lost in the feeling of Toby playing with your fingers. You're trying to think of something to talk about but the motions are kind of drowning out your thoughts. You can see why this might've been helpful the for Toby last week in the forest.

“...We're friends?” you aren't really sure if that was a question or a statement.

“Yea! Well at least I'd like to be. It's fine if you don't want to though.”

Toby gives a small smile to that, and releases your hand. It seems his anxiety has gone away for the most part. Maybe having the reassurance of another friend is all he needed. Just a little more moral support to get him out of his shell.

You smile back at him as he leans back on his hands. It's nice that you both can enjoy the day without your masks, even if you do feel a bit naked without yours. You wonder how Toby's been holding up wearing only the bandage over his scar. But you know you probably aren't at the friendship level needed to question him about it. No matter how nonchalant he'd been about eating in front of you that first day.

“How're the repairs coming?”

Toby rolls his eyes and lets out a frustrated groan, and for a moment you're concerned you upset him.

“It's a fah-fah-cuck...king rust bucket. Like Jesus fucking Christ first the AC blows out so I check the compressor...” he pauses and squints his eyes at you, “do you know cars?”

“Dad's a mechanic so I know enough. But you're talking about an RV unit and not a regular cabin AC might get a little lost but I can at least lend an ear. Like a rubber duck.”

The right side of Toby's mouth pulls a confused sneer, but his attention is soon turned to Brian who's chuckling having heard what you said.

“'s a coding thing Toby.”

“Uh...okay?” Toby just resigns himself to not understanding this particular topic and continues on.

“Yea so sorta the same basis, I guess. The units still pull air from outside into the vents and use a refrigerant liquid to cool the air it pushes out.” he pauses to make sure you're still following.

After you nod he continues to explain how it runs so the fans and circuits seem to be in order. There isn't a leak in the coils and the liquid's been replenished but it still isn't running cold. You nod while giving him a patient smile as you let him tear through his rant about the “piece of shit unit” because it seems this has been building in him for the past few days. When he comes to the end of his rant the only thing you can really think to say is.

“That sounds rough.”

Not the most eloquent thing but Toby seems to come down from his vent high, after a few deep breaths.

“Yea it mrrow was. Well is.” he cuts his eyes back to the trio across from you noticing how they all seem invested in their own conversation now.

“Why'd you give Tim a cobbler?” looks like you two will be playing twenty questions today.

“He scared off the creep for me last night.” you shrug causing your neck to jerk to the side.

“'the' creep? Wait! The one that drugged you?” Toby is so lucky he can't feel pain because even you felt that crack that ripped through his neck as he whipped his head towards you.

And honestly you're kinda surprised it didn't draw anyone's attention to you two.

“First I don't think I was drugged, he might've just sent me into a panic attack.”

“Oh sorry the creep that sent you into a panic attack.” you really hate when people interrupt you like that he's really lucky you understand he's actually just paying attention to you rather than talking over you. You'd punch him if it wasn't the case. Punch him right in his cute snarky face.

“Bitch.” You do punch him, in his arm, he lets out a monotone 'ow'. You decide against punching him again for that, it was a hard choice though.

“Anyway, second yea same one. I just really don't like the guy and last night he'd been bothering Ronnie when I stopped by the gas station. She'd apparently forgotten Tim had gone on break and when I tried bluffing that he was there well...”

You took some time to explain the situation last night to Toby. Leaving out the parts where Not Tim showed up. After thinking on that you figure there was a possibility of Tim having an alter that he may or may not know about. And you aren't sure what the etiquette is for this sort of thing, like if Tim did know were you suppose to let him tell you or should you let him know you'd technically met his alter. Judging from Toby's face, the guy really wears his heart on his sleeve, he seems confused about something.

Maybe Tim didn't remember last night and Toby was asking for him. That does put a bit more weight on your alter theory. And it seems to have more traction as something seems to click in Toby's head. He doesn't share whatever is making him nod. So you leave it be.

Before you know it an hour has past the field nearly full of town residents and Barclay, with his mighty megaphone, start calling people over for food so you all grab a plate from the basket.

“I want purple.” Kirby tells you.

“I could literally hand you any of these and you'd tell me 'thanks'.”

“That's pretty fucking ablest YN.”

You pause and look at the other three on the blanket.

“Is being colorblind a disability?”

A “Yes” from Brian followed by Tim and Toby's deadpan expressions and “No”s.

“Three against two, not ablest just honest...this is purple.” you had half a mind to hand him indigo.

Your group goes and gets food, debating the legitimacy of colorblindness being a disability, before heading back to your blanket. No sooner had you sat down are you body slammed into the ground. The familiar weight of an overexcited eleven year old smothering you.

“Hi can I sit with you?” before you can reply the rest of the Cowell family finds their way over.

“Josephine Cowell, I'm so sorry YN she's just been so excited all weekend. Josephine get off of YN you know they aren't very tactile.” Dia called.

Unlike her husband's hulking form Dia was a petite frail woman, you honestly wouldn't be surprised if Jo towered over her mother in a few years. And though she was small she had a fierceness to her that normally kept both the Jos in line.

“It's not a problem Dia. Jo I think you should eat with your parents first, we have all day to hang out.” Her eyes seem to sparkle with excitement and you can see her mother's apologetic expression just past her.

Understandably Dia is concerned with Jo taking up your personal time. The young girl sees you as an older sibling and wants to spend any second she can with you, but you aren't family. You're a young adult who has their own life to live. The last thing you need is to be babysitting the tween while you tried to relax with your friends today. Dia would do her best to have Jo give you some space.

“Hey you guys can just drop your blanket over here, we don't mind.” Janette, local mean lesbian, calls from Hollis and Jake's blanket.

Jo looks ecstatic at the thought and rushes to her father to pull him over to the area so they can place the blanket down. Booping her nose occasionally in her excitement.

“Hey Dia, Marnie's coming in an hour or so, soccer game got rescheduled. Jo will have someone her age to bug.”

“Marnie's coming?” leave it to a tween to finish setting up and get a plate of food all in under five minutes.

She's not even trying to be on her family's blanket as she plops down next to you. Taking notice of you staring she gives a wide grin practically buzzing with excitement. A bit too much excitement as she starts rapidly blinking, triggering your own as well. At least you have practice eating like this, unlike Jo who only just developed this tic.

After your tics subside Jo eats with you and just goes on into her usual tween drama stories. She's got to keep you up to date after all. It's like a soap opera just less adult topics and no evil clones. Kirby and Nate catch up and somehow rope Tim and Brian into their conversation as well. Toby just sits quietly eating and giving you amused looks every time you lock eyes.

You can't help but feel you're forgetting to do something every time you lock eyes with the brunette. The issue seems to resolve itself when a 'mrrow' slips from Toby as he takes a drink, causing him to cough from swallowing wrong.

An unconscious effort on your part, you lean and rub small circles into his back. Trying to calm his coughs. A mistake as the tween in front of you zeros in on the man as if she's just noticed he existed.

“Hi! Who are you?” if her eyes could turn into stars they would.

“uh...” Toby looks to you for help, as if the child talking to him was an alien species. “Toby...” he says uncertainly after receiving no input from you.

“Toby....”

“Rogers?”

“Are you YN's boyfriend?” Toby wishes he had an excuse to cough now.

His face flushes at the question and before he can sputter out any tongue tied response another 'mrrow' rips through him and his head harshly tilts back. Jo's eyes widen at the tic, she excitedly looks between the two of you. And you aren't sure what's going through her mind at the moment.

“OMG Do you have tourette's? Does he have tourette's or is he like you?” she's practically vibrating as she bounces between questioning both of you.

“umm...touretter's?” you say in Toby's place as the man beside you can't function a sentence right now.

Jo literally squeaks in excitement at the new development.

“I'm Jo Cowell, YN's self appointed sibling. I have tourette's too, I've had it since I was five. How long have you had tourette's?”

It felt like Jo's never ending barrage of questions was just that never ending. Toby took everything in stride, aside from the awkward dating questions. And for how worried she was about her daughter bugging you today every time you tried to catch Dia's eye she was somehow wrapped up in another conversation or her husband. Your saving grace came in a four foot two package wearing a dirty soccer uniform and sporting a fresh black eye followed closely by her frazzled step mother.

“Yikes, ball to the face or fight with the other team?” Janette asked her daughter as she walked towards the blankets.

“Fell off the bleachers.” fucking how? “Jo want to run some drills with me?” Marnie asked with a grin missing her front tooth, and before you know it your blanket was down an occupant and Toby was free of the never ending hell he'd been placed in.

“Do...do you want to take a walk? Get away for a minute.” you asked looking at the positively ruffled man next to you.

He nods numbly and follows after you into the tree line. You both just walk for a bit until Toby's complexion looses any rosiness. When he's back to his normal greyish cool tones you stop to rest. Leaning against a tree Toby follows your lead but slides down the base resting his arms on his knees as his head hits the tree behind him.

“Sorry about her, Jo can be excitable.” you'd remembered as soon as her tirade began that you should have warned him she'd lock on to his tics.

That was a near replica of your first encounter with the tween. Too late to change that now.

“I didn't mind,” he gives a boxy grin up at you “'s just how siblings are.”

There's a fond tone in his voice as he says that. And the gleam in his eyes tell a story of experience with that sort of thing.

“You've got siblings?”

“Yea, an older sister.” he sighs and looks down and the grin falls into a neutral look.

There's a story there, but you aren't one to pry. If he wants to indulge you or even himself he will in his own time. However, a joke should be able to disturb the tension that threatens to darken your moment.

“Oh I bet you were an absolute menace to her.” giving a good natured chuckle, one Toby returns as the fond look in his eyes came back.

“For your information I was a delight as a child.”

“Pfft yea I bet. And just how many times did you break an arm falling out of a tree?”

Toby looks stunned for a moment. Was that something weird to say? You remember the summer nearly everyone in your grade broke their arms falling out of a tree. Hell you would've too if you hadn't landed in a bush, all you got were some gnarly bruises and a few thorns stuck in you. Then you swore a vow to only climb thick limbed trees.

“Like twice...but..how did, how did you know?”

“It wasn't a universal thing? I just figured since we were both from Virginia like your class would've also had like sixteen kids break their arm or something over the summer.”

“Well I was home schooled so I wouldn't know.”

“Wait, like home schooled home schooled, or church home schooled. There's a difference.” giving you a sneer he just shrugs.

“Fucking home schooled home schooled. Don't see how that makes a difference.” he pops his knuckles. Jerkiness of the motion indicating his tic rather than his choice.

“One you're supposedly taught science and the other you're told Jesus loves you.” you deadpan as you slide down the tree mirroring Toby's position.

“I had two friends, they were twins, who were church home schooled until high school. Nice girls but only so many times I can pretend to know what the hell a veggie tale is.”

Toby snorts and shakes his head. This is probably all you'll get from him about his early life. But he's not dancing around the questions as much as he was a few weeks ago. The quiet is nice and you could honestly just spend the rest of the day in the forest. A cool breeze blows through the trees and you catch the smells from the picnic. For some reason it seems to make you queezy, you'll probably stay here a while longer. You might be getting overstimulated.

“What...what was public school like?”

The question sort of shocks you breaking the moment. And you just stared at Toby for a while before you actually thought of an answer. The answer you wanted to say was “hell, it was straight hell”. You don't think he's talking about the institution itself and more the experience. So you tell him.

You start to weave together a picture spanning twelve long years for Toby. Telling him of pranks or jokes learned, older siblings bugged, holidays celebrated, tearful goodbyes, joyous reunions. Paint pictures of gossiping friends, Jane Austin worthy rumors, unified students banding together to change outdated rules, snowball fights in the courtyard, Snapchat stories shared through the school. The distance that gets put into place the second you aren't legally required to spend all your time with people. The feeling of emptiness as you try to navigate a world you were never prepared for...and doing that alone.

You tried to condense it but you went off into a lot of stories and probably gave him way too much context for everything. But Toby sat there and absorbed everything you had to say. When your mood dropped as you finished he only had one thing to say.

“Sounds like it sucked.”

Looking at him you could see the worried brow and small half smile on his lips. It was reassuring in a sense.

“Yea, yea it did.”

The two of you sat and stared at each other for a bit. A sort of connection being formed from a not so similar but not quite unsimilar schooling maybe. Or the acceptance that someone didn't have to be just like you to get you.

There isn't really a lot of time to dwell on that as a pop is heard followed shortly there after by a crack and sizzle. Soon Toby's face was bathed in a blue glow, as was the surrounding area. Another pop came and the crack and sizzle followed after. Bathing the forest in a neon green hue. Looking up in time to see a third and fourth flare go up and watching them expand in a firey orange and yellow burst. Fizzling out as they made their way down.

“I didn't know there'd be fire...fireworks.” he's tense at his tree as he swallowed the lump that you clearly heard in his throat.

“Yea I...I didn't either.” looking back to Toby you hold out a hand, “Wanna head back to the lodge?”

He pulls his dark eyes away from the sky to look at you and your outstretched hand. Not a moment later he has grabbed your hand and is yanking you into a standing position with him. Leading the way to the lodge as if he were a bat flying out of Hell. His ability to lead you both deftly through the dimly lit forest with barely any sunlight was pretty impressive. At least it would've been had you bee able to focus on it rather than cringing from the noise.

When you get to the lodge Toby doesn't say anything, nor does he let go of your hand. You feel like he's completely forgotten about you even though you're literally joined together. Toby pushes through the doors and makes his way up the stairs. Without a word you let him lead you to where ever it is he's going.

Based on his behavior you have a pretty good guess. When Toby pulls out his room key with his other hand you know you're correct. And that waiting inside would be a very good boy.

“Connor pressure.” are the only words out of Toby's mouth as he flings open the door and falls back onto the ground.

Thankfully he'd let go of your hand. Since he all but dragged you here you figure he could use the company. Closing his door you go over and sit beside his prone form. Not saying a word to each other, just waiting for the others to get back from the festivities.

#sorry for being gone so long #ticci toby #ticcitoby #ticci tobyx reader #ticci toby x reader #masky x reader #Timothy Wright #timothy wright x reader #timothy wright x brian thomas #Brian Thomas #brian thomas x reader #creepypasta fanfic #a cure for insomnia

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aomine-ryo · 4 years ago

Note

Omg i got back into knb and im so happy to see someone still writing for the Fandom lol! Could I request GOM + Hanamiya with a gf or crush who loves to snowboard in winter and dive with sharks in the summer xoxo ppppplllllllllleeeeeeaseeee!!! I'll love you forever

Headcanons: GOM + Hanamiya with a girlfriend/crush that loves to snowboard in the winter and dive with sharks in the summer

Kuroko

Kuroko loved how adventurous and carefree you were

So you decided to get him to come snowboarding with you one winter

“But Y/N-kun, I don’t know how to snowboard,” he said to you when you suggested it

“It’s fine, I’ll teach you,” you assured him, thinking it’d be fun if you could get Kuroko to do this regularly with you

However, teaching him was harder than you thought

It didn’t take long for him to give up though

“I’m tired of eating snow, can I just watch you?”

You went to the place where you would usually snowboard, which was the highest point there

Now that Kuroko knew how difficult snowboarding was, he was quite worried looking at you all the way up there

When you started to snowboard though, Kuroko couldn’t help but stare up at you, wide-eyed

You made it look so easy that he was just filled with admiration as he thought of how cool his girlfriend was

In the summer, you told Kuroko that you wanted to go diving with sharks

“Excuse me but, what?”

You had never seen Kuroko that shocked before

You explained to him how you liked to do it at least once every summer, and you even invited him to join you

He politely declined, opting to just watch you instead

He was instinctively worried about you the entire time, but he also knew that you could handle it because you were one of the strongest people he knew

Kise

Your class was having a trip to a lodge, which you were excited about because you could spend the entire weekend snowboarding

Kise had a crush on you, but he never had the courage to ask you out, because he just didn’t know how. He was always used to people asking him out

He figured that he could just impress you that weekend by showing off his snowboarding skills (which he didn’t have, though it shouldn’t be too hard for Kise to learn it)

He thought that once he figured it out, he could offer to teach you and make a move on you then

However, when you got there, almost everyone was in awe about how well you snowboarded

Kise could hear the other guys in your class talk about how hot you were while you snowboarded, and he couldn’t help but get a bit jealous

It took him about three tries, but Kise got the hang of it

“Hey you’re really good. Mind if I join?” he asked you, to which you obviously agreed— you can’t say no to hanging out with Kise Ryouta

You and Kise spent the entire weekend snowboarding together and getting to know each other

Kise found you so cool that he completely chickened out of asking you out because he knew he couldn’t handle the rejection if you said no

In the summer, Kise decided to have a beach day with a few of his teammates, and he was thrilled to bump into you at the the beach

“Oh hey Y/N-cchi,” he said coolly, doing his best not to drool over how good you looked in your swimsuit, “what are you doing here?”

“I’m gonna dive with sharks. Wanna join?” you said to him cheerily

Kise did his best to contain his shock. Y/N’s such a badass, he thought to himself

In an attempt to have you find him cool, he agreed.

It goes without saying that he was terrified the entire time, but he did his best to put up a cool facade

His teammates watched him from the shore and they were practically dying of laughter at how scared he looked

However, after that horrifying experience, he realised that asking you out wasn’t nearly as scary, so he finally did once the two of you headed back

He was so over the moon when you agreed that he had enough adrenaline to go for a round two with the sharks

But he decided against it when he thought it through. That shit was far too terrifying for him and he had no idea how you did it

Midorima

You and Midorima were polar opposites

He was reserved, calm and rational while you were outspoken, erratic and spontaneous

But that’s what you loved about each other

When you suggested a beach day to him one summer, he easily said yes, thinking he could lay down and read a book under the sun

However, you had other plans. You were going to dive with sharks and you knew he’d say no to it if you said it as it was, so you hid it behind a forefront of a beach day

“I didn’t tell you this before,” you said when you got to the beach, “but we’re going to swim with sharks!”

His face of shock was the funniest thing you’d seen in a while and you couldn’t stop laughing. “Y/N, I’m not doing that.”

“Too bad, I already reserved it for two people.”

So you dragged your unwilling boyfriend along with you to swim with the sharks

He was so terrified the entire time that he went completely mute

When you got back from the beach, he was so mad at you that he was giving you the silent treatment

You made it up to him by giving him kisses and buying him a can of his favourite red bean soup

Midorima and you made it a habit to go up to a lodge every winter

He knew you loved to snowboard and he loved the peacefulness of the lodge

You’d get him to snowboard with you every once in a while, but he preferred to just watch you have fun while he indulged himself in a book

He loved how passionate you’d get about snowboarding and other hobbies, that it inspired him to try new things every now and then

Aomine

Aomine definitely thinks that it’s extremely hot how his s/o is so adventurous

The two of you went to school together, but he never really acknowledged you until Momoi ran into you at a resort she dragged him to because she wanted to try the desserts that were popular there

He was confused as to how he’d never noticed you in school because he found you quite cute while you talked to Momoi at the resort

“So, what are you doing here?” Momoi asked you

“Oh, I come here in the winter to snowboard,” you explained.

Damn that’s cool, Aomine thought

“You can probably see me snowboarding from that window over there,” you said to her as you pointed to a large window with a view of a tall snowy slope

Momoi made sure to get a seat close to the window so that she could see you, raving to Aomine about how cool you were, though he didn’t admit it

However, the second he spotted you snowboarding, he was speechless

Momoi was talking to him about the desserts, but he didn’t listen to a word she said because he was so fixated on you

You made all the other people snowboarding around you look so inferior and Aomine found himself falling for you

He asked you out on that very day and you’ve been dating ever since

You tried teaching him how to snowboard a few times, but he’d just get so frustrated when he couldn’t do it that he’d start yelling at the snowboard as if it were a living thing

If it wasn’t cool enough that you snowboarded, you also swam with sharks in the summer

You went to the beach with Aomine one day and he was so distracted by how hot you looked in your swimsuit that he didn’t realise that he agreed to go swimming with you

Next thing he knew, he was jumping into shark infested waters with you, doing his best not to shit himself and rather act tough in front of you

He was practically clinging onto you the entire time though, and you made sure to tease him about it for a long time after that

Murasakibara

You and Murasakibara mainly bonded over how much you liked food

He never understood how you enjoyed doing so many adventurous things, but he did his best to be supportive to your hobbies

He’d often tag along whenever you went snowboarding, though he’d never engage

You tried to get him to snowboard with you many times, but he’d just groan about how tiring it was

“Come on Atsushi, I’ll teach you.”

“I don’t want to, the snow is too cold,” he grumbled

“It’s snow— it’s supposed to be cold.”

He opted to just watch you from inside a café that had a view of the slope, while sipping on a mug of hot chocolate

He thought you were crazy when you told him that you were going to swim with sharks on one summer day

“Y/N-chin, are you trying to get killed?”

“It’s completely safe, don’t worry,” you assured him, though he didn’t believe you

He watched you from the safety of the boat, stress-eating his packet of chips as you swam around without a care in the world

He admired how carefree you were, though he’d never join you in your activities because it freaked him out more than you could ever imagine

Akashi

Akashi found your bold hobbies incredibly attractive

The way you were so playful and fearless was so exhilarating to him that he was hooked the moment he met you

So when the two of you started dating, he was very encouraging of your passions

When he found out that you liked to snowboard, he surprised you one day with a trip to a luxurious resort in the mountains, famous for its snowy slopes

He found snowboarding to be an interesting sport, so he decided to learn it so that he can experience it with you

He mastered it rather quickly and the two of you were able to enjoy the trip snowboarding together

You knew Akashi was open to trying many things, but when he agreed to go swimming with sharks with you in the summer, you were quite surprised

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do this just because I am,” you told him as you walked along the beach with him

“Yeah, it sounds fun. I want to see why you enjoy this,” he confirmed, giving you a gentle smile

Akashi was a bit nervous at first, but he didn’t show it

He seemed to calm himself down when he saw how much you were enjoying yourself

He was glad he was dating someone that encouraged him to try new things that he would never imagine doing on his own accord

Hanamiya

Hanamiya thoroughly enjoys how daring you were

He was the one who introduced you to the world of diving with sharks and you were eternally grateful because you found it so fun

The two of you would often go swimming with sharks together, and everyone you knew thought that you guys were insane

He enjoyed scaring you by grabbing your foot underwater, which startled you every single time without fail

While Hanamiya was fearless when it came to sharks, he found snowboarding to be the pure opposite of enjoyable when you took him to the slopes one winter

You still tried your best to teach him though

After his fifth fall, he had a fit, yelling, “This is a bullshit sport!”

Your relationship with him was very easygoing so you didn’t hold back from laughing at his arrogance

“Stop laughing,” he whined as he brushed the snow off his pants

He was very comfortable throwing insults left and right, but the second he’s the butt of the joke he becomes an absolute baby

You comforted him with a kiss on the cheek, to which he scoffed and said, “Gross,” even though he very much enjoyed it, and you knew it too

He decided on just watching you snowboard from inside the resort, where it was nice and warm

As he watched you snowboard like a pro, he couldn’t help but think you were one of the coolest people in the world, though he’d never say it to your face

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cno-inbminor · 4 years ago

Text

ipsum exitio (pt. 1)

a/n: for reasons explained here, this fic will be released in 2 parts! i want to thank everyone again who’s expressed an interest in this, and i hope that it lives up to some expectation. this fic is really big on introspection and includes a lot of arguably necessary exposition.

but more importantly, i want to thank @/a-kaashi (raenah) for being a huge support and my beta for this piece. she’s put in so much effort and thoughts into helping me make this into what it is now, and i can’t thank her enough.

plot: self-destruction is in the calm before the storm, in the eye of a hurricane. but when the forces are right, the winds are rapid enough, the catalysts send you hurling, you find yourself leaving a monstrous and disastrous path in your wake.

characters: ushijima wakatoshi, semi eita, iwaizumi hajime (in pt. 2), and male oc, w/fem!reader possessing vagina/uterus/uterine-system (other oc’s also included)

wc: 16.5k

genre/warnings: (+18) slice of life, angst, descriptions and moments of high anxiety, explicit smut (in pt. 2) (w/slight degradation, size kink, spanking, etc.) & virginity loss, alcohol consumption, talks about virginity and sex toys, slow burn, pining, implied bisexual reader

pt. 2

A breeze flows in through the open window of your apartment, softly caressing your face as you lean against the sill on your elbows. You drink in the view of Tokyo at night like a fine wine sliding down your throat, attuning to all your senses. With tear ducts dry and dust caked along the rims of your eyes, they shut in defeat, the semblance of a white flag splayed on the back of your eyelids. Cars honk in the distance and your legs struggle to support your weight. The scent of sulfur from the earlier downpour teases at your nostrils, causing your nose to scrunch a bit as you openly take in the scenery before you again.

A nearby billboard flashes bright, mechanically cycling through advertisements and never resting. The LED lights paint a picture that you are all too acquainted with, even more so with the man in the frame. Your body is plunged into a lake of bitter nostalgia as your heart wrenches painfully. Instead of fighting against the resistance of the water and gravity, you succumb to the anchor dragging you down, knowing that eventually, the waves will recede, and you will return to shore again.

Inhale. Count. Exhale.

Breathe.

11 years ago

Shiratorizawa is and always has been a battle ground. It was a miracle that you even made it there, quite honestly. The pressure and the overwhelming suffocation of competition filled your lungs and lodged in your airway the day you moved into the dorms and attended orientation. Everyone seemed so tense, so on edge, clutching their folders and packets like lifelines while absorbing all information possible. A stray few seemed more at ease and relaxed, but to you at the time, that immediately sounded the alarms – to seemingly thrive in this environment from the very beginning could only be the marks of a dangerous but powerful person.

What became a source of comfort was the realization that everyone else felt equally as anxious as you, terrified of the hidden lions camouflaged in the masses. And each year, students crippled under the stress and high expectations – if you had to make an estimate, at least 83% of the student body would experience a breakdown during the time of final exams. But in the midst of all this academic madness, this debilitating drive to do more and reach beyond the sky, everyone found refuge in the school’s sports teams. Be it basketball, swimming, diving, volleyball, tennis – chances were someone in the top 5 of their respective sport within the prefecture would be at Shiratorizawa, and nothing proved more freeing than screaming your lungs out for the prides of your school.

Interestingly enough, you had found that liberation in the volleyball team, being able to turn off your brain with a switch and focus on something that had nothing to do with the filled pages of incomplete to-do lists in your agenda. Air batons in hand, water bottle by your side for the inevitable dry throat, you hollered and chanted with everyone else in the stands and watched the opponents surrender at the feet of none other than Ushijima Wakatoshi.

A force to be reckoned with, a skill that was so beautifully and adeptly honed, you understood very early on the massive admiration for the boy. Even only at 16, Wakatoshi had the physique of a grown man, the severity of his complexion intimidating everyone within 100 meters of him. The terrifying force of his spike and devilish spin resulting from being dominant in his left hand left the crowds in awe. It was evident that the coach used this to the team’s advantage, and suddenly, you felt the burning desire to be on the floor. You wanted to sit on the bench, to see his movement from the side and within an envious proximity – no worry for stray balls, only the chance to witness something so athletically beautiful and magnificent.

And even though you were crushed under a mountain of assignments and projects, as well as a whole slew of mini-projects you had given yourself to make your life harder, you were determined to add this on your list. The lack of self-control in pursuing your desires was going to kill you in the future, but this was not the day. So you dove in towards the trenches, filled out an application, gave all the reasons why having you as a manager would be more help than harm, and suddenly, you were standing on the side of the court next to coolers of water bottles.

You didn’t bother hiding your adoration for Wakatoshi, always having had a bit of a soft heart for the strong, silent type. He was a boy of few words, and each one seemed carefully chosen yet also charmingly candid. Most, except for his teammates, were relatively terrified to talk to him, but he was always polite and thanked you for your hard work. Perhaps it was your constant vulnerable state induced by stress that made you more likely to develop your first real crush on someone, to search for a refuge of sorts. Wakatoshi always seemed to have his life together, and it became painfully obvious to the others that you had developed affections for the school ace. Satori teased you endlessly, going as far as scheduling a poor attempt at an intervention to get a confession out of you. Whether it had been out of pity or a relentless amount of pressure from peers (read: Satori, again), Wakatoshi, by the grace of something powerful, accepted your feelings. Nevertheless, he was very clear in pointing out that this wouldn’t be like any other relationship.

“When not in class, I am most likely at volleyball practice. I do not subject myself to public displays of affection.”

“I understand.”

“I will also likely not have time for dates. I am sure you are aware of this with our heavy course load.”

“Of course.”

“But I will try my best to reciprocate some of your feelings. I have no experience in this, as you might know, but all I ask is for your support.”

“That’s without question.”

“Very well then. Are you sure you want to continue with this?” He inquired, his eyes boring straight into yours to search for the answer.

Little did you know that your affirmation had signed a warrant for your soul, a revelation that would only unearth just thirteen months later.

Being in a relationship with Wakatoshi was easy. There was no need for all the overthinking of whether your actions would annoy him or not; or drive him away from you. If he had qualms about how you were acting, he wouldn’t bother with beating around the bush and instead tell you very directly, though gently as well. In the beginning, it was much easier to be quiet around him than to speak; the theme of your relationship would simply be ‘comfortable silence’.

He eventually became more relaxed around you with time, sometimes even voicing his worries and slight frustrations after practice while helping you clean up. Wakatoshi greatly appreciated how you were always ready to listen to him, despite the tremble in your muscles and dark eye bags from fatigue. You even joined him on his morning runs sometimes despite the fact you could only survive a small leg of it, turning back towards the campus when not even a fifth of his distance in. With advice from Satori, he had asked for more details about your day and your life in general, his brain filling in the gaps of the mental picture he had of you.

What once was a mere outline, roughly penciled-in of nothing more than your physique, the more he learned, the more colors he painted in. To him, you were shades of navy and gray with dashes of gold, emerald, midnight black, magenta, and rouge. The final picture was nothing close to artistic, but it lent to his understanding of your overall personality: unwillingly scattered, pained, anxious, yet determined and compassionate to a fault.

Procrastination was your best friend, you had told him one evening on a newly established weekly stroll, especially when it came to large assignments. You weren’t an organized planner – instead, you would let ideas stew and boil in your head, only mental images of the process and final result there until you couldn’t wait any longer to pen it down. Then you would pull nights of just three to five hours of sleep, running on caffeine and pure drive. What was even more frustrating was that you would find trouble for yourself, avoiding assignments by coming up with new unrelated projects that most definitely did not need to be on your priority list.

For example, if you had a presentation due in a week to discuss the 5 main themes of Great Expectations in front of your class, you’d first let all scenarios of it play out in your head. Then when it became too much, you’d go off and do something for the volleyball club that wasn’t on top of the agenda or complete a question set for the Math Olympiads club you were in as well. Considering those were more positive, productive digressions, other times you would pick up another book to read and feel the need to finish, download a new game on your phone, or scour the internet for cooking videos on the best ways to make hayashi rice.

What amazed (and somewhat alarmed) Wakatoshi was that you would pull it all together in the end. Not only were you balancing academics and extracurriculars, you were bearing the weight of your friends’ worries and stress on your shoulders with the biggest smile you could muster, casting aside most of your well-being to make room for theirs, as well as this relationship with him. Projects were still completed, assignments still mostly unflawed turned in, management of their team still in top shape, and being almost a perfect partner suited for his taste. All were held in stride, even if it was obvious to him that after major assignments were completed, you were either smiling less, saying fewer words, or stuck in your head more often. And he knew, as you had expressed one time out of exhaustion and beaten defenses, you were worried that you still weren’t good enough.

So the cycle continued. In waves and a whirlpool, Wakatoshi watched you unravel and tighten, unravel and tighten, unravel and tighten, desperate to prove that you had a place in this academy just as much as anyone else. Time and time again, you had voiced your worries and doubt, and every time, he assured you that yes, you were worthy of your place here. You knew the boy never lied to comfort others, and he knew that you knew this. He began to grow displeased with your mental reservations, finally determining one March evening of your second year that he could no longer continue this relationship with you.

Satori, of course, had protested vehemently. (“You can’t just break up with her like that, it’s cruel!”). Wakatoshi failed to understand the social implications, ignoring the advice from his friend as he prepared for the routine, weekly stroll with you. When he slipped his sneakers on, his muscles remembered to grab his spare jacket as you were prone to feel chilly on these nights. It wasn’t until the end of the stroll when your nose was slightly tinged red at the tip and your figure engulfed in his jacket, did he hesitate at the intersection between the boys’ and girls’ dorms, and Wakatoshi being the blunt human he is, voiced his thoughts.

“I think it would be good to end this relationship,” he stated with no warning, yet felt a twinge of guilt when your face fell and froze into a subtle state of shock. He let you process his words, patiently waiting for your response.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep breaths. But not too deep. Don’t freak him out. How do you stop freaking yourself out? Oxygen. Lungs.

Inhale. Exhale.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, training your eyes to look straight into his right shoulder, tracing the logo of the ICS foot. Hell knows you’re not tall enough to see past it. “Have I been asking for too much of your time?”

“No.”

“…Have I been too clingy?”

“No.”

“Then…what’s the reason?” You shakily asked, tears of confusion beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“…you’ve spread yourself too thin.”

This time, it was only appropriate to look at him straight on. As always, there was no hesitation evident in them, his direct truth bleeding through his retinas. It must have been words that he had decided on long ago to describe your mental state.

“Please elaborate,” you softly demanded, subconsciously hugging your arms at the biceps.

“You’re doing too much. You think you can do it all, but you’re simply unable to. It’s okay, but I think this relationship is one more thing on your plate that you don’t need.”

But you heard it. You branded the image of his words in your brain and read between the lines, running on overdrive as the darkness rapidly ate at you. It was easy for the demons to sneak in with dubious tones, repeating the phrase that you had been fighting so hard to keep buried inside—

You’re not good enough.

Perhaps you had become a burden to Wakatoshi. You had turned into the thorn in his side, something he no longer wanted to tolerate and keep in his life. Perhaps it was expected, you bitterly thought while shrugging off his jacket. The bite of the cold night teethed and gnawed at your skin, but the pain was almost welcomed now. He took the fabric without a word, only feeling slightly guilty at the sight of stray tears gradually streaking down your cheeks.

“Okay,” you sniffled, arms wrapped around yourself again for some vague sense of protection. “That’s fine, I get it. You have Nationals and the Youth team as well – it’s mainly best for you to end this.”

“(Y/n) –”

“It’s really okay, Wakatoshi. I appreciate you being straightforward with me. I’ll see you at practice,” you quickly interjected and turned to trek back towards the dorm, sending a quick but lifeless wave behind you. The shards of whatever was left of your soul trailed behind you like scattered stars on the concrete. Even when your roommate and friend brought your disheveled figure into her arms, they did little to ward off the parasitic spectres in your mind.

You spent most of that night tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep despite the exhaustion weighing down on your eyelids. Your thoughts refused to cease for just one second in its brutal beatdown on your heart, having played back every moment you possibly messed up on from the day Wakatoshi accepted your feelings to the time of separation. The questions began to plague the blood in your veins, your heart thrashing erratically and causing a cold sweat to break over your skin. Gentle, warning waves of nausea churned through your stomach as the anxiety effectuated into its more menacing, ghastly manifestation. You felt your breaths quicken out of panic and screwed your eyes shut – what did you do cope before? What could ground you behind the rails before you fell over the edge and into the folds of a dark ocean?

Deep breaths. Count. Breathe. Exhale. Start from 100.

Inhale.

Count.

Exhale.

Repeat.

You fell asleep before you hit 20.

You stayed on as the manager despite every ounce of your heart demanding you to quit and run, pettily attempting to prove Ushijima wrong. Satori directed empathetic glances your way multiple times for a few days, but you never wavered. There was no time to feel sorry for yourself or accept pity from others, especially as Nationals was right around the corner. Getting away from campus excited you and as much as the trip was about volleyball, the boys looked forward to spending a few days in the capital.

But the championship fell short, and soon, the third year began.

Your roommate was understandably concerned. On top of more rigorous classes and upcoming college entrance exams, you balanced your manager position, math club, an online job tutoring English, and yearbook duties. It was an absolute miracle that you found enough hours in the day to be on top of everything, and you were proud. This not only meant that you didn’t just peak in middle school, but it also meant that you could do all these things and still turn out great. At the end of the day, a sense of pride overwhelmed you more than anything – this had to be your way of defeating your anxieties: occupy yourself until there was no time to think about them.

The months rolled by. Your cycle continued. Shiratorizawa fell to their knees in front of Karasuno. You got into The University of Tokyo. Graduation proceeded without a hitch.

To your naïve, broken soul, the stars seemed to have aligned and the puzzle pieces were fitting. But to those around you, they could only watch as you fell deeper into the massive hole you dug on your own, dirt smudged on your cheeks and hands blistered from the wooden handle of the shovel. You were going to snap again one day, and it would be more painful than the first.

University soon gave you an adequate understanding of what exactly your personality had unfortunately become: self-destructive. At the time, you had only thought it appropriate to disregard your own health for those you loved (and there were quite a few of them) while balancing academics. That fault was one you had long come to terms with: that you gave away too much of yourself. Someone needed to rant at 1AM? Your phone ringer was always on at full volume (unless you were, of course, in class). Someone needed a ride to the airport? You were there, jokingly asking them to bring you back a snack from their travels as thanks. Someone needed to crash at your place for a day or two to get away from a shitty ex? Extra blankets and sheets, as well as an air mattress from home, were all prepared in the cupboard at your apartment.

As demanding as Shiratorizawa was, Todai stressed you out on another level, especially with your business major and computer science minor. On several occasions, Ushijima’s words had rung loud and clear, echoing in the chambers of your mind. “You’ve spread yourself too thin,” his baritone voice plagued you at the most inopportune times of the day (read: when you were attempting to balance, again, too many things).

And as much as you enjoyed the companionships of your friends, both old and new, you began to achingly yearn for a more intimate relationship that would allow you to collapse into comforting arms, especially on days that endlessly dragged you on your feet. The fact that it was only freshman year made your head spin, but nothing could truly deter you from your deepest desires.

You should have realized that this would only result in isolation with nothing but wooden walls, a balcony, and a shattered heart to keep you company.

7 years ago

“I agree,” Sayuri, a senior and close friend from the art department, affirmed when you expressed this romantic aspiration to her over ramen at a nearby izakaya one September night of your sophomore year. “Everyone’s so obsessed with their careers these days, you included,” she jabbed and pointed stained bamboo chopsticks at you, causing your shoulders to flinch and hunch back in some shame. “Buy some alcohol, give yourself some free nights. The only times I see you doing something not related to school is when I drag you out on weekend shoots with me.”

Sayuri was an expressive girl who took the world in stride and captured the streets of Tokyo with her camera like no other. The two of you had met in an interest organization meeting, instantly bonding over similar pastimes and your two personalities just clicked. She somehow embodied everything you weren’t, and you deeply loved her. More often than not, Sayuri was the one to keep you from completely losing yourself, absolutely refusing to let you become a mindless soul stuck in a business suit and wedged between the crowds in a subway, needlessly calculating away to gain more greed and wealth. “You’re too good for that,” she once told you when you had unexpectedly showed up at her door, drenched from the rain and your own tears caused by a string of unfortunate events.

(“You’re at your best when you’re a little more free, a little more relaxed, you know?”)

“But your weekend shoots are fun!”

“Which is exactly why you should do more other fun stuff!” Sayuri exclaimed before she took a sip from her bottle of ramune. “You know what? Tonight. We’re gonna download Tinder and tapple. You’re a hot commodity, and there’s gotta be some decent guy who’s down for a few casual dates. Hell, you might even have a better chance at finding another girl who can treat you right.”

“You’re not wrong,” you sighed. “Some men can be such pigs sometimes.”

“A-fucking-men.”

Sayuri rarely ever went back on her word, and much to your chagrin, you found yourself curled up next to her on her cream faux-leather couch. Her arm slung over your shoulders as she helped you pick out your best photos, including a shot she had taken of you when she begged you to be her subject on one of her shoots. “My professor needs me to practice portrait shots, please please please help me out here?” She had implored a couple weeks ago, and because you could never say no, you had grumbled your agreement before putting on a nicer outfit and some light makeup. You weren’t going to lie – those were some of the best pictures of you by far, and made you look much more attractive than you ever thought or felt.

A bio was set, photos strategically ordered, and you were tossed into the world of online dating.

“This is a really bad idea,” you groaned ten minutes later as Sayuri swiped through the profiles showing up in your pool. “I haven’t even slept with anyone before.”

“Oh honey, I bet half of these men only ever got their dick wet once and came in two minutes flat. They think they’re impressing someone but they’re only fooling themselves,” Sayuri scoffed and then grimaced at a man’s daringly shirtless mirror selfie. “This poor guy needs to eat more; I can see his ribcage! You don’t need someone who doesn’t appreciate food.”

“What if he’s got an eating disorder?” You seriously speculated, heart going out to the possibility of that.

“Well now you make me feel bad after swiping left on him and – oh hey! You got a match!”

“What? Who the hell did you swipe right on?!” You screeched; chin craned to get a good look at the person on your phone.

“Calm down, you don’t need to worry! I have impeccable taste in men! Hey, don’t give me that look,” she cried out when she saw the questioning raise of one of your eyebrows. “Look, he was cute, had a safe bio, and he goes to Tokyo Tech! So he’s a smartypants like you! Guy must’ve been swiping around too for there to be a match this early.”

“So he’s just desperate and I got swiped right on for passing his minimum standards? Am I supposed to feel like I should be given an award?” You scowled.

“Just wait for him to message first. Keep it light and breezy, we’ll see if he’s suspicious later,” Sayuri waved off, continuing with her search for your perfect, laid-back date.

“But seriously, I’m worried some guy is gonna start expecting sex from me,” you huffed, leaning back to lay your head on her shoulder. Instinctively, she rested her own on top of yours.

“You’re really worried, huh?”

“Makes me a little anxious, yeah,” you admitted, fingers fiddling with a stray thread on the sleeve of your old Shiratorizawa jacket.

“Tell me about it.”

“Well...I’m not waiting until marriage or anything. I’m not putting my virginity on a pedestal or anything, I just kinda want to get it over with, you know? I know your first time probably isn’t all flowers and rainbows, but I figured that I’d at least want to lose it to someone I trust.”

“So you’ve thought about this quite a bit then?”

“Have for a while, if I’m honest.”

“Name them.”

“But—”

“Names, (y/n). I gotta make sure they’re good enough for you.”

“They’re decent, I promise. I mean, I just know they’d never hurt me or throw me to the curb after it happens.”

“You do realize that’s the bare minimum, right?”

“Do you want names or not?”

“Okay okay, go.”

You exhaled as blood rushed to your cheeks. To say their names out loud made it much more embarrassing, especially since there was a high chance they never thought about you sexually before.

“Semi Eita, Daichi Sawamura, and…Ushijima Wakatoshi,” you mumbled the last name, knowing Sayuri’s less-than-positive feelings for the guy. She knew the entire history of your relationship with him, not that it involved a whole ton, but she was just overly protective of you.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi?? Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Did you not hear the other two?” You squealed, swatting her with a sleeve that you had retracted your arm into.

“Okay, fine, but tell me about them.”

“Promise not to laugh?”

“Can’t.”

“Ugh, okay look. Eita is...he’s a nice guy. He seems a little rough around the edges, but he was always soft with me. Never gave me a hard time until he got replaced with another starting setter our third year, but he knew it was for the better of the team, as much as he didn’t like it. And even though his competitive streak got the best of him sometimes, he just...I don’t know. He’s dependable in his own way, stuck with me after the break-up and would check in on me from time to time. We still keep in touch a little.”

“Find me a picture of him, then tell me about the other guy.”

“Sure,” you agreed, tapping and swiping through your phone, mainly scrolling through years and years of photos you had kept. “Daichi-san is...well, he’s like if Wakatoshi was more emotionally available.”

“(Y/n), anyone is more emotionally available than Ushijima.”

“He softened up towards the end of our third year, okay? Cut him some slack, please. Anyways,” you cut Sayuri off. “I met Daichi-san our third year briefly during the Spring Qualifiers for Nationals. Extremely nice guy, mature, seemed pretty dependable being the captain of a team with some rowdy underclassmen at the time,” you lightly laughed at the memories.

“You’re really into the dependable type, aren’t you? Reliable? Takes care of you? Can relieve your stress at the end of a long day? Do you have a da—” Sayuri insinuated suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows until you finally interrupted her.

“Hey, there’s no kink-shaming in this friendship!”

“I’m just teasing, babe. Go on about Mr. Dependable” she giggled, causing you to roll your eyes as you continued.

“I saw him a bit more when I picked up a part-time job at a local convenience store for a couple months, only because I quit my online tutoring job. It was just before graduation, but he visited a few times. Seemed like it was closer to his house than the one he usually stopped at by his school. It was never busy, and he’d stick around to chat.”

“Oh my god, he was into you!”

“What? No! Like I said, he’s honestly just really, really nice. Did you know he’d buy his teammates buns every once in a while?”

“Oh, for the love of God, you had a crush on him, too!”

“Fine, just a tiny one!” You quickly admitted while batting away Sayuri’s excitable swats on your thigh. “But I was worried he was just some rebound crush, and he was staying in Miyagi while I was preparing to move here, so it’s not like anything would’ve happened. He was funny, too, and always asked about my well-being even though he didn’t really know me. Honestly, he was too good for me,” you said quietly and seemingly deflated.

“Nobody’s ever too good for you,” Sayuri comforted and pulled you into her arms. “I don’t care how perfect they are. If anything, you’re too good for them.”

“You hype me up too much,” you smiled sadly, holding onto her intertwined limbs. “I just...he didn’t deserve to get pulled into my mess. And it’s not just him – nobody deserves to. The last thing I want to do is hurt someone because I couldn’t get my shit together.”

“...even if you get hurt yourself?” Sayuri murmured.

Your silent, solemn answer spoke volumes. Life had turned you into somewhat of a martyr, someone absolutely terrified of inconveniencing others, yet relentless in your support for the important individuals around you.

“One day,” Sayuri started gently. “You’re gonna find a guy who loves and cherishes you to no end. You’re gonna get a taste of the love that you give to others, and he’ll never let you go. He’ll stick with you through everything, and you’ll realize that you do deserve that kind of love. It’s inevitable, really only a matter of time. And maybe he’ll show up when you least expect it. Just don’t give up yet, okay?”

“...okay,” you mumbled, tightening your grip momentarily as a tacit gesture of gratitude. “Sayuri, if we’re 30, single, and same-sex marriage gets legalized in Japan, can we get married?”

“Sweetie, we don’t have to do it in Japan, might as well just move to the U.S. and get married there. So yeah, sounds like a plan,” Sayuri agreed, half-joking.

And she knew you meant it, too.

6.5 years ago

You (jokingly) blamed Sayuri completely for anything that happened on Tinder afterwards.

Many casual conversations turned fruitless, never getting to the level of comfort that you felt you wanted to meet someone face-to-face. The search became more of a pastime than anything, and it became the same old, boring procedure. Reintroducing yourself and your interests for what seemed like the twentieth time existed like an unwanted pill you had to swallow every day, a habit done with a sense of boredom and banality. Sayuri called you picky, and perhaps you were looking too much into it. But you were allowed to have standards, right?

About half a year after your first night with Tinder, you found a person that you felt somewhat okay with. Ito Tsugumi was a junior at the Tokyo Medical and Dental University living in the undergraduate campus. He seemed respectable, understanding, and never made fun of your own interests and likes. The guy completely understood that this was casual, but he still wanted to meet you at least once, take you out for coffee or something and see where it goes from there. And that was perfectly fine with you.

March weather meant it was still pretty chilly in Japan and living by the ocean didn’t exactly help. You were glad that this was just a coffee date, because not only did it mean you could indulge in a nice cup of hot chocolate, but you also didn’t have to worry too much about how nice you looked because all of that could be sacrificed in the name of warmth. If Tsugumi was going to judge you based on your outfit designed for comfort, he wouldn’t be worth your time anyways.

Anxiety coaxed you into arriving at the designated café ten minutes early, shakily paying with your card and almost dropping it en route to the cashier’s hands. You spotted an empty two-seater along the back wall, but not right by the glass window where the frost would most likely creep through. Positioned in a seat so you’d have a decent view of the entrance, you sent a frantic text to Sayuri for moral support because your nerves were absolutely frying at the moment, to which she sent you a Sailor Moon GIF of Usagi throttling Minako before a message that read, “you’re a cute piece of ass and he knows it. flaunt it babe!” Rouge flooded your cheeks out of the embarrassment that was now mixing with the butterflies in your stomach, and luckily you fought it down when the door rang open.

If you had to be honest, Tsugumi looked more handsome in person than in his pictures, and that screamed danger to you. He only had to look around the café once before spotting you and quickly made his way to your table with a smile. While part of you had registered it as a bit of a Cheshire grin, you immediately dismissed it as a product of your paranoia. This was just a meeting with something warm to drink, right? There was no rule stating that a relationship had to come out of this. If he ever gave off a warning sign, all you had to do was run and never speak to him again. Easy.

You stood from your seat, almost entirely putting your weight on the table when your legs momentarily refused to cooperate with you. The grin on his face held firm as you bowed to each other in greeting and you couldn’t help but have a small one of your own. Were you flattered that he arrived five minutes ahead of the original meeting time? Perhaps just a little, but maybe you were sweating the small details too much.

“Have you already ordered? I can get us something,” he offered. Just as you were about to let him know that you already bought a drink, one of the baristas showed up with a large mug of hot chocolate and set it down with a table napkin. You quickly bowed and thanked them before turning back to Tsugumi sheepishly, gesturing awkwardly towards the white porcelain cup.

“It’s really nice of you to offer though,” you tried to appease. “We’re all broke university students anyways, I wasn’t going to make you buy me a drink.”

“I would’ve been more than happy to,” he replied warmly, a sense of adoration in his eyes that seemed far too intimate for just a first meeting. Nevertheless, his gaze made you avert your own to trace the swirls in your drink. “I’ll be right back,” he continued before leaving to order. Good, this gave you a few necessary moments to gather your bearings.

You needed to calm the fuck down. This wasn’t your first rodeo, though Sayuri would vehemently disagree. “Weekly walks around your high school campus don’t count as dates, (y/n),” she quipped in the past, giving up when you, for the thousandth time, defended Wakatoshi and his actions. And you had been very attracted to him as well, so what was so nerve-wracking about this now? Your relationship with Wakatoshi had held far more implications if things ever ended badly, with the same social circles and everything. Ito Tsugumi was merely a dot outside of most of your realms and possessed very little power over the important things in your life. Your focus needed to be on something else for the time-being, like the smell of ground beans with sweet traces of freshly baked pastries, or the faint coffeehouse music playing through the speakers, or the pots of devil’s ivy hanging from the ceiling. Just anything besides wondering if you had stray hairs out of place, or if your makeup wasn’t blended correctly, if your nails looked asymmetrical—

You had put on your best “I’m doing great!” face once Tsugumi was returning to his seat opposite of you. At first, nothing was said and the both of you could only laugh at the awkward shift in air. But when you spotted a faint shade of scarlet on his cheeks, you felt that you could let out a breath of relief because perhaps, you weren’t the only one feeling a little nervous.

Tsugumi was a wonderful conversationalist and an appreciator of comfortable silence. He seemed just as nice as he was in his messages, and when you went on occasional ramblings of something you felt passionate about, he listened attentively and always asked the right questions at the appropriate times. Even when you profusely apologized for talking too much the first time, he only gave you a blinding smile with his head tilted cutely before saying, “It’s okay, I like listening to you talk.”

And your heart was nearly set aflame.

Two hours easily passed the both of you by, with you discovering much more about him: He wanted to be a dermatologist, had lived in Tokyo his whole life, doted excessively on his mother who owned a little bakery near his house, had a good bond with his older brother who was working to be a pilot, was aware of the fact that he came off as a douchebag sometimes, admitted to some said stereotypical douchebag behaviors, and owned a cute little bobtail cat named Renji. Tsugumi eagerly asked for another chance to meet with you, promising that he would buy your drink no matter what. Is it allowed that someone even dares to match your view of perfection? Is he flying too close to the burning star?

You learned a few weeks later that you should have never given him the chance.

And what was absolutely infuriating was that you should’ve noticed it sooner. The sun he was reaching so highly for was not to become the perfectly flawed man, but attempting to attain something out of greed and selfish desires. He was abandoning any apathy for the people he drew into his sticky web as long as they helped him build his wings, and you fell for it.

(“I like you a lot, you know? You’re probably one of the nicest girls I’ve ever met.”

“With your history of partners, that’s not possible,” you laughed softly. “You probably met way more nicer girls, just never got the time to get to know them.”

“I’m serious, though. I think I’m pretty lucky meeting you.”

“…thank you.” But you couldn’t bring yourself to believe him.)

With Ushijima, perhaps you had jumped in too quickly; so with Tsugumi, you made sure to maintain a healthy distance at all times. You were determined to take this slow and learn from your previous mistakes, and while that could have saved you a whole world of hurt, it wasn’t enough. Tsugumi wove you into his life by joining you on study dates, always doing his best to meet you at your university library instead of his, bringing you small snacks you had mentioned liking once or twice, calling you frequently when you were both free to check up on you and ask how your day was, and even dragging you along to meet his mother at her bakery. By that time, only three weeks had passed, and you had become (rightfully) concerned.

The gentle chime of the bell on the bakery doors had quietly alerted the matriarch of the Ito family of a customer’s arrival, and though her face had visibly brightened at the presence of her younger son, hesitation quickly crossed her eyes as they landed on you and the intertwined hands. Minute facial reactions could speak volumes, so you took that glance to heart as something to healthily ponder over, knowing that there must be some reason for it. His mother was nothing but polite, even gifting you an almond croissant when Tsugumi mentioned it was one of your favorite pastries. You desperately tried to pay, almost embarrassed that you were given something for free, but she wouldn’t have it and Tsugumi had to drag you out before you snuck too much change into the tip jar. But after you had bowed and had begun to wave goodbye, another emotion formed on her face and nearly caused you to stumble.

(Minutes later, you had placed it as pity.)

It all came to sense when Sayuri frantically called you the next night, strumming up every possible curse against “stupid, greedy swine in the form of men”, Tsugumi’s name laced between the syllables slipping off her tongue. You had immediately shut your notebook closed, trying to calm her down, “Hey, whoa, slow down Sayuri, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Holy fuck, (y/n), he’s got a fucking girlfriend!”

Three things crossed your brain then. 1) You were glad that you had maintained the walls around your heart, 2) Tsugumi was cheating on his girlfriend, and 3) you were unexpectedly not surprised that something like this had come up. Your dating life had started with a streak of bad luck, and you were pretty convinced that it would strike again, no matter what.

But that hadn’t stopped you from feeling your heart drop to your feet, simultaneously also feeling the breath get knocked out from your chest. Completely speechless, you spent a few seconds processing Sayuri’s words and quickly after, the anger began to simmer through your veins. In fact, you weren’t exactly angry that he had strung you along (due to your guarded, paranoid detachment) – you were more furious at the fact that he was probably cheating on some lovely girl, and even if she wasn’t lovely, nobody deserved to be cheated on. Not even a snake like Tsugumi.

You sighed. “Well, how’d you find out?”

“You said the fucker didn’t have social media? Well I decided to snoop because who doesn’t have social media these days—” “Plenty of people don’t, Sayuri.” “Well, with his looks and his past – again, it’s not a problem that he’s slept around, he can do whatever the hell he wants for all I care AND as long as he doesn’t have double standards – but I figured there had to be something out there. I found an old Twitter account, then found what I thought was his ex-girlfriend’s account but it’s actually his girlfriend’s account, and it turns out, he’s got a newer Twitter account he actually keeps up with. He thinks he might be slick, but the idiot didn’t even put his profile on private.”

You held the phone between your shoulder and ear as Sayuri spelled out the girlfriend’s Twitter handle to you, your fingers simultaneously typing it into your web browser. Another handle is listed in her cutesy bio, saying that she belonged to the owner of this other profile, and when you open it in another tab, Tsugumi’s face stares straight back at you. Sayuri was right – he had done a pretty shit job at hiding this. A cursory look through his tweets and hers, everything you needed to know was there.

She was a first year at a university in Kyoto who spoke highly of Tsugumi, tweeting photos of them two and tagging him quite often, and her friends all supported their relationship. It made you feel sick to your stomach that you had been spending time with a cheater, one who was throwing away a three-year relationship.

“Are you okay, (y/n)?” Sayuri asked through the speaker. You didn’t realize that you had been quiet for the last few minutes, so wrapped up in your thoughts.

“I need to talk to him,” you said quietly as your heart began to race. Confrontations were not your forte, no matter how much your business classes tried to prepare you to be a stronger speaker. It should be easy, like ripping off a Band-aid, yet the idea of calling Tsugumi up and telling him that you had to stop seeing each other wracked your nerves like an earthquake.

“Easy. Call him and tell him to go fuck himself, then hang up and block his number. He doesn’t deserve any more of your time.”

“I know, but…you know I’m not good at this kind of stuff. And I’ve never had to have this conversation with anyone before…”

“(Y/n). You used to manage a whole team of teenage athletes, and I know there were a ton of times when you had to put your foot down and get them in line. Treat this snake like one of them, get it through his head that he should burn in hell—” “Sayuri!” “—and then avoid him for the rest of your life.”

You sighed again and massaged your temples. That’s right, you could be firm, and with Tsugumi who you hadn’t been that close to, it should be easy to just let him know that the act was up. Yeah, you could do this.

“Do you want to keep me on the call?” Sayuri asked, her anger finally simmering down.

“No, it’s okay, I can handle this. But thank you though.”

“Yeah of course,” she replied softly, compassionately. “Are you okay though?”

“Well…maybe it hasn’t fully hit me yet, but it’s frustrating.”

“You can be angry, you know.”

“I’m not angry, I just…” you hesitated, searching for the right words to better describe your feelings. But without control, your throat began to close and choke, salty tears clouding your vision. You desperately tried to hold back the first sob with a hand over your mouth, panic striking your heart at the sudden rush of despair, but Sayuri quickly caught on.

“(Y/n)...” Sayuri cooed, her tone sympathetic and soft.

“No, if—if I’m angry,” you hiccupped, wiping your spilled tears away messily. “That means I cared, even though I told myself I shouldn’t have,” your voice cracked and heaved another sob as your heart took the final twist of the knife. Everything that you had tried doing to prevent the painful effects of possible disappointment were coming to crash down on you, and all for nothing. Sayuri held silent and let you cry out your anguish – she knew better than anyone that you just needed these moments of catharsis, to let all your emotions out before you would try to think logically again.

“God, I’m such a fucking idiot,” you blubbered after a couple of minutes, standing to retrieve a tissue from the kitchen.

“You’re not, really. You give people the benefit of the doubt and try to see the best in them. Usually that’s not bad, but…an asshole decided to come along and take advantage of it. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

“I’ll try but…fuck, it’s so embarrassing to think about it now. All the signs were probably there, right? And I just believed everything he told me,” you sniffled, setting your phone down with the speaker on as you blew your nose.

“I’ll be there in the next hour or so,” she stated resolutely, and you could hear her moving around her apartment.

“Sayuri, you don’t—”

“Don’t be silly, (y/n). It’s not a good time to be alone now, okay? You want me to pick anything up from that convenience store by the station?”

You had let out another mucus-y sniffle, eyes roaming over the cabinet door of where your snacks were. “…can you see if they’ve got a bag of that flower plum candy I like? If not, a bag of nori-shio chips, please.”

“Of course. Hang in there, okay? Don’t call or text him until I’m there.”

“Got it. Thank you so much.”

“You don’t need to thank me, (y/n). And look…,” Sayuri trailed off and your ears caught onto her shutting and locking a door. “It’s okay to ask for help, you know? Especially if it’s me, so don’t forget that.”

“But—”

“I know you’d do the same thing for me, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then there’s no problem. I’ll be there as soon as possible, will keep you updated. Love you!”

“Love you too, Sayuri. Be safe.”

Click.

Two hours later, with an opened bag of candy in the cabinet and an empty bag of chips in the trash can, sleep came to you and Sayuri in your bed, and you had never felt luckier.

Based on Tsugumi’s calling habits, you weren’t surprised that your phone rang on the dining table sometime around 10AM, the screen lit up with a picture you had taken of him at the library on one of your study dates. It amazed you for a second how easily your emotions could be flipped around, that this specific set of colored pixels had once brought you a tiny amount of fondness and only now twisted your face in extreme discomfort. Last night, you and Sayuri had run through all possible scenarios of why Tsugumi decided two-timing was something to engage in, including his possible thought process behind getting you involved in his life so quickly. At the end of it, two things were 99% certain: you were going to let him explain, and you were not going to give him a second chance.

“It’s like ripping off the Band-aid,” Sara had echoed your previous analogy when talking about your worries and hesitations in the confrontation again last night. “The quicker you get it over with, the better.”

“But it’s the ripping-off that’s the worst part, not what comes after. Tsugumi isn’t one to give candid, quick explanations either. He’ll probably try to get me to forgive him, which only prolongs the inevitable. So it’s…a slow rip, not the kind where you can bite your tongue and yank it off as fast as you can – and it’s more painful that way, too.”

“You’ve got a point,” Sayuri had huffed. “If anything, I’ll be here for moral support.”

She casted you a quick look over her shoulders from the sink where she graciously offered to wash the dishes from breakfast, and your pursed lips gave the tacit confirmation that it was none other than Tsugumi on the phone. One quick sigh later, you swiped the green pick-up button, activated the speaker, and answered, “Hello?”

“G’morning, (y/n)! How are you? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you replied softly, wanting to stay calm and collected. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I was just a little worried since you said you were tired so early last night. It’s not like you to sleep before 11PM. Did anything happen?”

You discretely scoffed to yourself, hoping that Tsugumi hadn’t caught it. Sayuri rolled her eyes in such a dramatic fashion that you almost burst out laughing.

“Nothing much, I just had a really long day and felt kinda tired.”

“Well, I feel better now hearing that you’re okay. I’m glad you weren’t sick or anything. Did you get a good sleep last night then?”

“It was good, yeah.” But no thanks to you.

“Well, if you’re up for it, you wanna go out today? It’s the weekend and I have some free time before I need to start studying for our next round of exams. Did you want to check out that bookstore on the other side of the city? Or the Ghibli museum over in Mitaka?

“Ito-san, can you do something for me?”

“…sure, what is it?”

You quickly took a deep breath. This was it; this was the start of the discerption.

“Can you tell me why you’re cheating on your girlfriend of three years who clearly has no idea of what you’re up to?”

The chilling silence that resonated throughout the apartment sent shivers down your spine. Sayuri had long finished up washing and drying, and the only sound that was registering was the chirping of birds outside your window. Even then, it was faint at best, and you briefly wondered if Tsugumi had just hung up on you. But an electric rustle and a static sigh convinced you otherwise, and Sayuri’s expression morphed into one that simply signaled, “Get ready for the bullshit.”

“…so you found out then?”

“You didn’t exactly try very hard to hide it,” you quipped while crossing your arms.

“I know, I just…when did you find out? And how?”

“Last night, and how doesn’t matter.”

“But—”

“Why are you doing this? I know social media usually isn’t much to base personality on, but she seems pretty nice and definitely doesn’t deserve to have a boyfriend who’s been sleeping with other girls for the majority of the last eighteen months.”

“You don’t know anything!” He quickly defended himself, but not elaborating any further. “It’s just really complicated…and she’s not what she seems.”

“Okay, so let’s say she isn’t. If it’s been so bad dating her…why haven’t you broken up?”

“We never…got around to it, I guess?” His voice came out sheepish. At least the guy felt some shame in his actions.

“You’re ridiculous. Did you really think you were going to get away with this forever? Like what if I hadn’t found out?” You almost seemed desperate to know the workings of his conscience, simply because no matter what his explanation was, it would most definitely confound you. Were you being too simple-minded?

“I swear I was going to break up with her! I really wanted to – you made me want to finally talk to her and just end things –” This time, you made sure Tsugumi heard your scoff of disbelief. “—and I promise, it was going to end eventually, and I was going to seriously ask you out. I know you don’t believe me, but I’m serious.”

“Ito-san…if you did break up with her, would you have told me about it later on?”

“…no, I wouldn’t have.”

At the end of the day, his honest and unfortunate answer resolved all your doubts.

“I figured as much. At least you were honest with me about it and didn’t bother lying to say you would have.”

“I’m really sorry, I really didn’t mean to hurt you this much. You’re such a nice girl, (y/n), seriously. I’m so sorry and I don’t…deserve a second chance, but could we still be friends?”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you snapped at him. “I was more worried about how much you’re hurting your girlfriend.”

“…oh.”

“Yeah, and while you probably caught on that my self-esteem isn’t exactly the highest, I know that I don’t deserve to be lied to and strung along for the ride or for whatever game you’re playing yourself against.”

“That wasn’t what I—”

“You know what? Fuck being your friend, too,” you bit out, your anger getting the best of you again. “Nobody likes being friends with liars, and I’m not about to change that for myself, much less change that for you. Maybe in like, 40 years when we’ve all moved on with our lives and you’ve become a better person, but if you’re asking to be my friend now after everything you’ve done, that’s a firm no.”

“But please—”

“You need to fix this shit. Do you realize that I met your mom? And I could see it in her eyes – she knew exactly what you were doing, right? She knew you were still dating someone else, but you wanted me to see her for some sick, twisted reason. I’m telling you; I could see it in her face, and you know what it said? She pitied me, Ito-san. I’m sure she’s a nice person, but I bet 10 to 1 that the croissant she gave me was out of guilt, because clearly, I had no idea what was happening. You can’t tell me that I’m wrong, can you?”

“Oh god,” he muttered, and you almost hadn’t heard him with the blood boiling in your ears. “Yeah, she was actually really pissed. Lectured me for a whole hour over the phone that night, told me she didn’t raise me to be a cheater and stuff.”

“Well, I’m not going to repeat it. But whatever else she probably said, I agree with her. Get your shit together, honestly. It’ll do you some good,” you stated resolutely.

“We really can’t be friends?”

“No. But…look, if you’re in some sort of really toxic relationship with this girl, you can tell me, okay?” You ignored the incredulous look on Sayuri’s face, taciturnly promising that you’ll explain yourself after the call when she starts making large X’s with her forearms and mouthing, “Hang up!!”

“I’m not saying it’s okay to be friends – I’m just saying that if you’re struggling with something and need someone to talk to, you can…talk to me. But only if I’m your last resort. I know you have other good friends, so you can’t use this as an excuse to try and get close with me again. It’s not gonna work.”

“…Mom was right, you know? You really are too good for me, too nice.”

“I don’t know about that, but maybe she’s onto something. Don’t make me regret it.”

“I won’t. Thank you, and again, I’m really sorry. I’m so sorry, (y/n). You didn’t deserve this.”

“Your apology’s accepted, but you’re not forgiven. Remember what I said: do what you can to fix it now before it all comes crashing down on you.”

“Okay. Then this is goodbye?”

“More of an extremely prolonged ‘see you later’, Ito-san. Take care of yourself.”

“You too. Bye then – I’m sorry.”

“Bye, Ito-san.”

And before the boy received another second to delay the inevitable, you somewhat aggressively tapped on the bright red hang up button. Immediately, your shoulders slumped and fell back into your seat, a breath escaping your lungs as if you had been underwater for the entire duration of the call. Your eyes focused on the chipped paint of your ceiling, vision blurring as you begin to think back on the phone call. Was there anything you could have done differently? Had you been too soft on Tsugumi by giving him permission to contact you as a last resort?

“Yes, you pulled a ludicrous move, if that’s what you’re asking yourself,” Sayuri commented, her own arms crossed in front of her chest. Sometimes, she knew you a little too well.

“I was just trying to be nice,” you half-groaned and half-whined, bending back forward to bury your head in your hands.

“Well, what’s done is done, you can’t take it back now,” Sayuri said defeatedly, coming towards you to pull you into a hug. “If he’s smart and can take a hint, he’ll stay away.”

You returned her embrace as best as you could. The Band-aid was off now, wound exposed to the open air, but you knew it would eventually heal. The only remnants of it would exist as faint memories, the pain fleeting at best.

“I think we should tell the girlfriend,” you suggested to Sayuri. Tsugumi would probably end up extremely furious with you, but not only did you owe him utterly nothing, he never said you couldn’t say anything to her either. So with Sayuri’s Twitter account, an elaborate explanation, a link to a folder on Google Drive with screenshots of your text conversations both on and off Tinder (the ones that you’d have to be in a deep state of denial to think were untrue or simply taken out of context), you completed the task that no person would ever want to accomplish in their lives. As heart-wrenching and torturous it would inevitably be, Tsugumi’s girlfriend deserved the truth and the ability to take matters into her own hands. Had your positions been switched, you would’ve liked for her to do the same.

Hours later in the living room, you made the executive decision to delete your profile and uninstall Tinder from your phone. While Tsugumi might have been an odd, terrible, slightly harrowing experience in trying to start a relationship with someone, perhaps you weren’t ready for one either. You needed to wait until you were more confident, bolder, and had things locked down in your future. For now, any efforts toward desiring and developing a serious romantic relationship would be redirected to your academics and career. That stability had to come first in advance of your emotional needs.

When you expressed this to Sayuri, she gave you a look that seemed somewhat disapproving. Instantly, you began to curl in on yourself, doubt coiling around your heart. “Do you think I’m…overreacting?”

Sayuri shook her head as a small smile graced her complexion. “I can’t dictate how you feel, and if I were in your position, I’d probably be thinking the same thing.” Her eyes softened as she drew up her knees to her chest. “But you know what I said when we first started all this: I don’t want you to give up just yet. What if there’s a really great guy that comes along but you’re still trying to focus on your career? Are you gonna deny yourself and make it a missed opportunity?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered, feeling troubled now. “I guess…he’d have to really be amazing for me to even consider it, you know? But who knows, I’d probably do something reckless and end up hurting myself again.”

Sayuri could tell that your anxiety was beginning to get the best of you, the doubts and insecurity once again plaguing the blood in your veins. This conversation had to be postponed for later – because now, your recovery was of utmost importance.

“You know what you need now that you’ve sworn off men for the next few years?” Sayuri started, her tone unexpectedly filled with mirth and suggestive insinuations. The Cheshire grin spelled trouble to you, and you were becoming afraid at what the answer was. Shakily, you humored her, “What would that be?”

Sayuri denied you an immediate answer as she abruptly bounced up from the floor, scuttling off to your room before returning with your laptop. Her fingers quickly pried it open, excitement rolling off her in bright ripples as she gestured for you to type in your password. As soon as you unlocked the device, she snatched it away and took over the keyboard. You warily eyed the screen as she pulled up an incognito window and typed in the website to Amazon.

“What are you doing??”

“Okay, (y/n), tell me. Do you know why sex toys were invented?”

Immediately, you wanted to melt into the ground. Not out of embarrassment per say, as you’ve had open conversations about sex and related topics with Sayuri multiple times, but if you were going to be truthful, this definitely wasn’t the first time she was trying to get you to buy a sex toy or two for yourself. There was no way you made it almost twenty-one years of life without having masturbated before, and you were okay with just your fingers now (and occasionally, your detachable showerhead).

“They were invented because people want to feel good. Do you know how many people on this earth have dicks and can’t figure out how to use them well, but still think they’re a gift to the world? I bet the majority of them couldn’t definitively tell you where the clit is, and I bet even more still think that girls pee out of their vagina. And you know what? Everyone deserves a partner who will take the time to figure out what makes them feel good, especially those with a vagina. Best way to do that is to find out yourself and see what works for you.”

“But I’m fine with what I do now!”

“Just please trust me on this one, okay?? Get a vibrator at least, please?? If you hate it, I’ll treat you to dinner for a week!”

You waved her off. “You don’t need to do that, but you just need to promise you’ll stop trying to talk me into buying more sex toys.”

“Deal. But I really doubt that’s gonna happen,” she sang, typing in a couple of words into the search bar. “I’ll buy it this time.”

“Hey—”

“Consider it an early birthday present! If you want to pay me back so badly, buy me our next couple rounds of curry don and we’ll call it even.”

“I can’t fight you on this, can I?” You asked dejectedly, accepting defeat and waving a white flag.

“Nope!” Sayuri exclaimed, absolutely no shame whatsoever in her voice. Instead, she sounds entirely elated that you have very little say in this, but in her defense, you weren’t exactly protesting. “Here we go – and we get that sweet, sweet Prime shipping. Yes, I know what you want to say—” Sayuri interjected when you opened your mouth with an objection. “Jeff Bezos is a terrible man who’s providing a good service but should distribute his wealth better, but I’m still on that free student trial? I know I’m already going to hell, but I’ll make up for it in the next life!”

There was never a way to stop Sayuri from doing what she wanted if she had her mind set, and this just happened to be one of them. A few more clicks of the touchpad and taps of the keyboard echoed throughout your apartment before Sayuri shut your laptop closed. You didn’t need to hear her confirmation that the deed was done, given the vicarious excitement stretched across your best friend’s face.

At the end of the day, this was Sayuri’s way of trying to comfort you, reminding you that she always had your best interests at heart. Your heart brimmed to the edge with sentiment and gratitude, causing your own giddy laugh to spill from your lips.

Life seemed to resume its regular routine afterwards, as mundane as it can be for a university student. Sayuri had you tag along on her shoots again, then you would return home to finish up some assignments and get your readings done, the lingering smell of dinner wafting around in the kitchen as you scrubbed a pan clean – truly, the only thing that seemed to be missing was Tsugumi’s incessant phone calls. But you had neither the energy nor the apathy to long for them – and Sayuri was right. If he was smart, he would know better than to ever contact you again.

You hoped for all your sakes that he would learn to rewire his brain and think rationally.

Present

It takes you a few seconds to register the rapid knocks against your apartment door, the rapping of knuckles against hardwood reverberating with a sense of urgency. Part of you expected this sooner or later, but you are in no condition to face the person on the other side. The rhythm shifts as the beating of the wood begins to sound more solid, signifying that the visitor is now choosing to lightly bang their fists instead of calloused knuckles.

Please leave, you weakly scream in your mind, eyes screwing shut to combat the oncoming tears. Your figure begins to crumple even more against the rail of your balcony. You can’t see me like this, so please go.

“(Y/n), I know you’re in there,” a deep male’s voice permeates through the wood, though muffled and scratchy. “Please, let me talk to you. I’m sorry, I—” He pauses, a groan of frustration escaping his throat. Your vision refuses to refocus, bleary as you weakly take in your view of Tokyo again. Without a doubt, the man must be ruffling his hair frustratedly, distressed and discouraged.

“I shouldn’t have said that. Please let me in and apologize properly – I owe you that much.”

You owe me nothing, silly. It’s my fault.

Eyes the shade of the earth in the billboard observe you, and you wonder: if seen in person, would they have stared with pity?

It’s time to stop running away.

So with sluggish steps, you make your way to the only barrier barring you from your fate. The two deadbolts slide back and click in place, echoing louder than ever. Your hand trembles in its path to the doorknob, faintly grasping the chilling metal and turning it until the latch pulls back far enough to let the door open.

And there they were, the eyes that held the key to your undoing, that had watched you crumble and fall, that had looked after you in more ways than you could imagine, peering straight into yours. You know them well, perhaps too well, and your knees nearly buckle at their intensity. It takes every part of your being to stop yourself from slamming the door closed, to hide away and escape destiny.

It seems that irises in the shades of olive will be the banes of your existence.

4.5 years ago

It hadn’t taken you much to admit it, but Sayuri was undeniably forgiven for taking the initiative to buy you your first sex toys.

About a year and a half had passed since the whole Tsugumi fiasco without as much as a text from him. The virtual silence made it much easier for you to do as you planned: throw yourself into your academics, prepare yourself for your career, and simply focus on anything else but the gaping yearning for a romantic partner. In the time that flew by you, Sayuri secured her own boyfriend, a charming J1 league soccer player who complemented her well. And even though it was obvious how smitten they were with each other, Sayuri always made an effort to include you in their dinners and hang-outs, so much to the point that you felt a swirling mixture of embarrassment and guilt for how often you were third-wheeling them. You had classmates and other friends to hang out with occasionally, and you weren’t one to always feel the need to be with others. You could handle (and frequently chose) self-isolation to refuel on social reserves – it was abandonment that scared you most.

As per usual for many business majors, you spent a semester overseas to broaden your horizons, basing yourself out of a city in Germany and tagging along with the other exchange students around Europe. New traditions and customs were learned, museums and historical structures explored – though one thing you hadn’t expected to return with was a new portion of your brain designated for the nuances of alcohol. Something that you hadn’t meant to care for in the past now existed as a part of your business identity; you needed to know the different wine glasses, the different brands of whisky, how to choose your drink wisely, which drinks are acceptable depending on the situation. If you wanted people to take you seriously in a world that prevented women from touching the sky, you needed to pocket the things that others would normally take for granted.

Part of you believed you were a better version of your past self at Shiratorizawa – while you were busier than ever, your time management skills had improved. That wasn’t to say that procrastination was no longer your best friend; it had leveled down to just a really good friend. You still possessed many of the bad habits in picking up unnecessary projects right before big assignments were due, putting a little too much on your plate, and working yourself to the bone to get everything done on time. The slight improvement existed in the form of less time spent on them, and you embraced this small progress.

And for many months, life existed on that continuum: Sayuri, friends, family, academics, and career.

That was until you received a seemingly innocuous text from Semi Eita.

A text from Eita was not abnormal in any way – as you had mentioned to Sayuri previously, the two of you had kept in contact over the last few years and remained friends. The text that appeared on your phone on a Tuesday night caused a grin to split your face, and all thoughts of indulging in some “me-time” were instantly discarded as you read his message.

[“I’m planning on visiting Tokyo this weekend and checking out a couple of things for the band. Are you free to hang out?”]

To your surprise, you hadn’t run into many of your classmates from Shiratorizawa, not that you ever tried, perhaps. So that might’ve been on you, but somehow it was much easier to stay in touch with your volleyball boys, despite their shortcomings in reaching for Nationals. You rarely visited Miyagi, and even if you were in the area, it was during New Year’s when everyone would be with their families. Without the heart to pull them away from filial time and duties, updates on your boys came mainly from 4 different group chats and the occasional video calls. Eita asking if you were available to hang out was a chance for a breather that you didn’t realize you needed.

With the adrenaline and exhilaration pumping through your veins, you tapped a response that probably seemed too enthusiastic to be you: too many exclamation marks and too many offers.

[“you caught me at a good time!!! i have a couple of days off before i need to start on my next project. it’d be fun to show you around!! and depending on how long you plan on being here, you’re more than welcome to stay in my apt!!! i’ve got an air mattress and a futon, whichever you’d prefer!!”

“Actually, that’d be really nice. Are you sure it’s not a bother?”

“of course not, semi semi!!”

“I never should’ve told you that you saying that ridiculous nickname isn’t nearly as annoying as when Satori says it 🙃🙃. But if it really doesn’t bother you, I might take you up on that offer then. Going to and coming back from Tokyo in one day is too much, and I was starting to look at cheap inns. This way, we’d have more time to catch up and hang out.”

“honestly, stay as long as you need to!!! like i said, my whole weekend is free :). there’s a cute little place nearby that serves great tekka maki!! i’m also not too shabby at making it either.”

“My favorite food homemade? Satori would be really jealous. And probably Shibaru. I can’t wait to rub it in their faces.”

“i’ll send you the name of the station closest to me, and then i can pick you up!!! actually, just send me your itinerary when you figure it out so i can plan.”

“Once a manager, always a manager. Will do.”

“looking forward to it, semi semi!!”

“Me too.”]

Still riding the high, you keyboard-smashed a text to Sayuri, explaining what had just transpired and how excited you were to see an old friend. At first, she was just as happy for you, until she caught on to who exactly was coming to visit, and immediately sent an “OH SHIT” text, followed by a number of sexually suggestive emojis. She didn’t have to be there to know your cheeks were now thoroughly flushed – in fact, you had been trying to forget the fact that Eita was someone you were trusting your first time to have sex with, and you refused to trip yourself silly to make it possibly happen. Last you remember, Eita had dated a girl for a small period of time, but that was about a year and a half ago and there hadn’t been much word from him about it.

The next few days passed in a blur – as promised, Eita had sent you his general itinerary, and while he was a working man with a band as a side gig, train tickets from Miyagi to Tokyo weren’t exactly cheap. Knowing him, he would attempt to take opportunities to pay you back for your hospitality, and you were going to make sure that this wouldn’t happen. At least, not very often. You made a rough schedule around his own that included lots of down time, if there was somewhere he wanted to go visit himself, time for you to make meals for the both of you, one or two movie nights depending on how long he would stay, and more.

The task was almost overwhelmingly nostalgic, that instead of sitting hunched over at your desk in Tokyo, you were back home in your dorm at Shiratorizawa arranging their schedules in preparation for Nationals. This realization of yours came in the very early Thursday morning, but as you began to recall more and more of your time there, you abruptly stood from your chair and shook your head. Not long after, you burrowed yourself under the sheets, phone playing your sleep-inducing playlist on the nightstand as you desperately willed yourself to rest and retreat to the dream world for at least an hour or two.

Then Friday arrived, and before you knew it, you were standing at the designated train station, bouncing excitedly in the arrivals section. You were excessively tipping your toes to look over the others also waiting. But amongst the incoming crowd, you easily spotted Eita’s signature hair color, the familiar hue of ash blond filling you with adoration, and as soon as he was over the dividers, you couldn’t bother containing yourself and bounded over towards him. With a duffel bag slung on his shoulder, phone in hand, dark skinny jeans, a casual pale blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up[GU1] , his reflexes were quick enough to recognize the human bundle of joy sprinting towards him. Eita’s best memories of you were in your Shiratorizawa uniform, so seeing you in casual streetwear threw him for a loop at first.

The earnest beam on your face could warm the iciest of glaciers, and he easily lost against the facial muscles fighting to form into his own smile. As you deftly dodged the other people in your route to him, his arms seemed to naturally fall open in a gesture that welcomed your inevitable embrace. Eita was pretty sure you squealed before jumping onto him, but his focus had to redirect to his arms so they didn’t drop you.

“Semi Semi!” You happily cried out into his ear over the hustle and bustle, arms tight around his neck as he held you close. He gave you a brief, affectionate squeeze before setting you down, causing your arms to fall. But his hands held onto your shoulders, giving you a quick once over and making his assessment. He always had a soft spot for you back in high school, knowing that it wasn’t easy managing a team of teenage boys who were ridiculously hungry and driven for a common goal. When news got around the team that you and Ushijima had broken up, he always kept an extra eye out for you and worried that you’d continue to work yourself to the bone in university.

But the girl before him seemed different: you seemed brighter, elation and happiness rolling off your body in waves. Your face was a bit thinner than it was four years ago, but perhaps the childhood features had matured over time. Additionally, you were a bit taller, though he still could easily see over your head, and overall, you looked somewhat healthier. He hoped that you were learning to relax a little more and take some more time for yourself, again very much aware of your past self-destructive habits.

Eita said nothing and ruffled your hair playfully, a snicker leaving his lips as you pouted and moved to resolve the new half-made bird’s nest. “Come on,” he chuckled, fishing out his phone to open Snapchat. “I promised Satori a selfie of us the minute I saw you.”

“Well, we can’t have him waiting, can we?” You joked back, hiding half of your figure behind Eita’s free arm and giving your best beam over his shoulder. Eita gave his best half-smirk, half-smile, knowing that Satori would absolutely eat him alive out of jealousy. He took one and let you take a closer peek, but before he could send it with your approval, you reached over and swiped to see what filters could be used. To make it easier, Eita just handed over his phone and watched you add silly stickers, his eyes resuming his assessment of you again. But it didn’t take long until you were handing him back his phone, giggling as he took in your newly formed masterpiece and scoffed while hitting the send button.

“Come on, manager,” he sighed, slinging an arm over your shoulders as the two of you made your way to the exit doors. It took very little effort to drag you with him, not that you were complaining. “What’s the plan?”

“One second!” You exclaimed and tapped through your phone, pulling up the picture of the schedule you’ve made. “Oh, yes! Okay, how heavy is your stuff? Do you mind walking around with it?”

“It’s not much, just clothes and toiletries.”

“Perfect, I was really counting on you being a sufficient packer just like back then. We’re gonna make a detour on the way home – I need to get some groceries for dinner but there’s also this takoyaki stand near there that you just have to try! It’ll change your life, I promise.”

“Can I change my mind and say I want to go home first?” He asked jokingly, but that didn’t stop the narrowing of your eyes.

“You’re just saying that so you can throw our schedule off and make me suffer!” You accused when you spotted the devious smirk on his face, the kind he’d put up in the past sometimes when the ball landed just where he wanted it during a pinch serve. “Fuck you,” you cursed but with no malice at all, instead laughing at his antics. “I will leave you here alone right now and you’ll have to find somewhere else to stay for the night. Let’s see how well you do.”

“There’s this really powerful thing now called a cellphone, and it’s got this wonderful little app that can pull up the map of the world. Have you heard of it? It’s called Maps—”

“You’re insufferable,” you said as you shook your head and made a futile attempt to push him away from you. Eita either kept up with part of his exercise regimen or miraculously retained most of the muscle mass he gained in high school because the flesh at his waist refused to give in when you pressed firmly against it. All he had to do was tighten his arm a little bit to get you stuck against his side, and you knew you had lost for now.

“You lie, manager. Admit it, I was your favorite,” he teased.

“Have you always been this cocky? Just because you have a few people screaming your name during a gig doesn’t mean everyone wants you now,” you huffed.

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t your favorite.”

“You’re wrong – Wakatoshi was my favorite.”

“Even after the breakup?”

“No doubt,” you replied with no hesitation.

“I still think you’re lying.”

“Whatever floats your boat, Eita-kun,” you chuckled, feeling quite comfortable under the hold of his arm. “Walk faster, I need to get the good produce at the store before it’s all snatched away.”

“Hey, I’m the one accommodating your tiny steps.”

“Take that back!”

Being with Eita was easy, to say the least. Old friends could fall in line together easily, and there was little to no awkwardness during interactions. He flitted around your apartment like he’d been living there for the past few years, and very few topics were off the table for conversation. You had become more open, a little livelier, he realized. If anything, his previous assumption of your current mental state was getting confirmed over and over by the minute – you were happier, a little more relaxed than how you were during the last year of high school.

As much as Wakatoshi was a good friend, based on Satori’s slip-up of what had happened, he wished you had been let down easier. It was more than a miracle that you hadn’t run away from them, but you were more guarded, putting up nothing more than a gentle, amiable smile most days. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you genuinely laugh at their antics during practice. Yet you were here now, sitting next to him on your couch and almost full-out cackling at some ridiculous anecdote of his about his roommate freshman year. Maybe your giddiness was amplified by the shot of sake you took just fifteen minutes ago, but that, yet again, didn’t stop him from understanding that things have changed a lot in the last four years.

He likes this current you, somewhat new and improved. More relaxed, more open, more easy-going…this was good.

“So are you still talking to that girl from a couple years ago? What was her name,” you muttered and started snapping your fingers to get the ball rolling in your alcohol-muddled brain. “Oh! Her name was—”

“—Yui?”

“Yes!” You giggled, leaning back against the couch and sipping from your third shot of sake of the night. “I remember she was cute, sad that I never got to properly meet her.”

“It’s okay,” he smiled. “Yui and I were more casual anyways. She ended up moving when she got a new job and we’d be long distance, so we broke things off.”

“When’d that happen?”

“Mmmm, about a year and a half ago?” Eita questioned himself, a little unsure of the exact timeline. “Yeah, sounds about right,” he confirmed and leaned over to the coffee table to pour himself some more sake.

“That’s been a long time then,” you sighed. “Anybody else since?”

“Nope. Things got busy afterwards with the national exams and putting the band together, so I just never really thought about it. But what about you?” Eita asked curiously – had you moved on since your break-up with Wakatoshi?

At first, you hummed to yourself, eyebrows furrowed in a manner that suggested you were struggling to find the right words. But then your face relaxed and morphed into a mix of mischief and embarrassment, small laughs spilling from your lips and he was wondering if he needed to start worrying.

“I did see a guy a couple of years ago,” you began while staring into your cup, avoiding Eita’s gaze. “You wanna know how I met him?”

“How?”

“I…okay wait, do you promise not to judge me?” You somewhat slurred and held out a pinky as a gesture for him to fulfill a promise. He nodded and linked his pinky with your own, interlocking then twisting so you two could stamp thumbs.

“Good, so the answer to your question is…yes, I met a guy. On Tinder.”

Eita wasn’t expecting that last fragmented sentence to come from you of all people and had been mid-sip during your revelation. It was a miracle that he didn’t spit out the alcohol all over your couch, but he choked and had to pound his chest a couple of times as the sake went straight for his lungs.

“Don’t judge me!” You whined, shoving him from the side as he waved off your accusation. A full pout formed on your face and you looked genuinely upset.

“I’m not judging, I swear,” Eita ensured over haggard coughs. “I just didn’t expect that – I thought you were gonna tell me you met this guy at some random place on campus.”

“Once you know the whole story, you’ll be glad he doesn’t go to my uni,” you scoffed before downing the rest of your cup. Eita watched you wince and fight the pleasant burn down your throat, preparing for the possible train wreck of a story you insinuated.

You laid it all out for him, from the very beginning to when Sayuri first got you to download the app up until the last phone call you had with Tsugumi. Eita listened attentively, grimacing, laughing, and frowning at all the right moments. He watched you struggle to verbalize the anger you had felt, the frustration from even being angry to begin with, and by the time you were done, you were exhausted. You simply stared back at him with a lazy, tipsy smile that contrasted all the defeat in your bones and attempted to hide your efforts in pretending that you had completely moved on. Eita could tell, though, that that was unfortunately not the case. The pain had lingered, and you were never going to forget…or forgive yourself.

He released a heavy sigh, placing his empty cup gently on your coffee table and grabbing yours from your fingers as well. Once both were away from the possibility of being spilt, he reached out a hand to you, wiggling his fingers as a tacit gesture for you to grab them. Whether your fingers had trembled from the excess resentment or some personal effect from the sake, the second your fingers interlocked, your eyes began to water. At this sight, Eita quickly pulled you to him with a strength you had forgotten he possessed, repositioning your bodies until he was leaned against the back cushion with your side cuddled into his frame – your knees bent and feet on the other side of his thighs – and one arm wrapped around your shoulders with a free hand intwined with one of yours in your lap.

Part of him had expected you to completely break down and bawl, but instead you released silent tears, occasionally sniffling and wiping them away with your free hand. He murmured words of encouragement into your hair, just loud enough to not startle you but to remind you that he was there. Eita instantly regretted not keeping in touch more, even if Sayuri kept a close and endearing watch over your well-being. But you were engaging in an old habit of yours, the one where you’d put up a strong front to not give anyone a reason to worry, that you could handle things on your own.

Maybe he was feeling a bit lonely as well. The alcohol running through both his and your veins certainly wasn’t there to aid in any good decision-making, and the two combined with your own emotions, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was going for when he gazed down at you, waiting for you to look back up at him.

Your eyes were surely bloodshot by this time, and you could feel the tears slowly dry and crust between your eyelashes. Eita’s heavy, pointed scrutiny willed you to look back at him. Even with your slightly blurred vision and sake-addled brain, you failed to miss the way his eyes flickered down to where your lips were. Naturally, you glanced at his own with alarms softly sounding in your brain. This wasn’t a good idea, but you were two slightly lonely adults and if he wanted to…

Perhaps Eita had become a mind-reader over the last four years. Your heart rate skyrocketed as he leaned down at a snail’s pace, leaving you more than ample time to prevent this moment from ever happening. But it was undeniable that part of you wanted this, that at some time during senior year, you had briefly envisioned a few times what it would be like to kiss the setter.

Just once, to feed curiosity’s sake, to unveil the unknown.

Eita’s weakly parted lips were still, frozen when they gently met yours with the slightest bit of pressure. His shaky breaths faintly tickled your skin and you caught the whiffs of sake and something minty, the scent slowly intoxicating you. Something sparked in your veins, a slow tingle crawling up from the base of your spine, and you nearly shivered. A fragment of your brain registered the tightening of his hand in yours, a tacit and telling gesture of, “It’s okay. It’s up to you.”

You could resolve this in the morning.

You took the plunge, lips slowly moving against his to signal your tentative approval. Eita’s lips were as soft as rose petals, so tender against yours that reminded you of the full moon on a clear night sky. At every step, at every change, he soundlessly requested permission, whether it be with a cautious nudge of your nose with his or a squeeze of your fingers, and you granted the shift in angles, the slow repositioning for a position more comfortable. It hadn’t taken long for Eita to lose himself in you, wrapped up in this new, uncharted territory that you guided him through. He was more than satisfied with just kissing you, now hesitantly straddling his figure, at a comfortable, languid pace with his hands cradling your cheeks.

At some point, your hands had traveled to wound behind his neck, fingers lightly grasping the ash blond strands at the nape of his neck. When you subconsciously tightened your grip on them, Eita sharply inhaled, applying more pressure against your lips and causing you to lean back somewhat from the new force. He searched for stability by trailing his hands down to your waist, his hold tender yet unshakeable. Eita wasn’t planning on going any further, not when you weren’t completely sober to make a choice like that, but that didn’t stop him from scattering light kisses on your cheeks and jaw. Clearly, the alcohol had lowered some of his inhibitions, but not enough as his lips lingered over the span of your neck – his desire to mark your skin, to paint it with hickeys and signs of affection, would only unleash something darker inside of him, something that you weren’t quite ready for yet. Your heady breaths echoed in his ears and he felt you shake with temptation, your head subtly lolling to the side to allow him more room as a tacit gesture of consent.

Just one, he berated himself. Just one.

His nose ghosted over the skin from your jaw to your collarbone, catching the faint scent of what he assumed to be a mix of your body wash and natural scent. His senses found it comforting, grounding, and reminded him just how precious you were to him. You weren’t just a random girl at the bar he thought would be temporarily nice to make out with – you were (y/n), the girl who had watched over him and encouraged him during some of his most difficult times with a sport that was once his life, the manager who cared for him and his teammates to be nothing but their best, the person who the boys would unwittingly go to war for if anyone were to bring you trouble.

So he made that known, kissing the joint between your neck and shoulder, and reveled in the breathy gasp that escaped your throat. Little by little, he applied more pressure, preparing you for what he was about to do. His lips softly sucked on the skin, just enough so his teeth could graze it and nibble. Your hands were now fully entangled in the strands of his air, and as they tightened, Eita became more forceful and meaningful. You were entering a faint haze of ecstasy as he worked that one spot, determined to break the capillaries beneath your unmarked flesh and let the inevitable bruising bloom. He knew how beautiful you would look when he was done, and if he had your permission to, what a sight you would be with more littered on the rest of your body.

When he pulled back and deemed his work sufficient, he placed one last kiss on top of it before gazing back at you. Your eyes were half-lidded and hazy, traces of lust pouring into them as you struggled to even your breath. You knew in your bones that Eita was too much of a gentleman to go any further than this, and you were incredibly grateful. If something was going to happen between the two of you, you wanted to make sure that both of you were undoubtedly sober and fully aware of the decisions made.

Eita leaned his forehead against yours, stealing a few chaste kisses and rubbing his nose affectionately against your own. When he felt you were calm, steady, he made sure your legs were wound tight around his waist before standing from the couch with ease, arms holding you securely to his chest. His feet carried the two of you to your bathroom, placing you on the little counter space by your sink before unraveling your limbs from his figure.

Quietly, he handed over your toothbrush and squeezed out a small dollop of toothpaste onto it, repeating the actions with his own. The both of you tiredly brushed your teeth, somewhat thankful for the minty paste that would replace any lingering notions of the sake. But that hadn’t stopped you from staring at each other during the motions, only breaking the silence when foam escaped his lips and you couldn’t help but let out a tiny snicker. To which he only rolled his eyes dramatically, yet quickly held your gaze again as his own was filled with amusement and mirth, much akin to the look he had given you when you picked him up at the station earlier.

Minutes later, you two were tucked in your bed, facing each other in the dark. Eita tentatively searched for one of your hands, weaving them together once he completed this small quest of his. Little needed to be said as your blinks began to take on a slower pace, sometimes staying shut for a second or two before snapping back open. Your grip was loosening in his, but he felt he knew why you kept trying to get a good look at him, why you were unwilling to let sleep overtake you.

“Turn around,” he whispered. Too tired to question or fight back, you did as you were told, waiting with bated breath. Not long after you had done so, you felt the mattress closer to you divot just a bit more as an arm carefully snuck around your waist. You lifted your neck a bit to move your hair towards the side you faced so that Eita’s breathing wouldn’t be quite as obstructed, and he thanked you for the thoughtful action with a chaste press of his lips against your shoulder. The two of you adjusted slightly to ensure the position was equally comfortable.

Eita felt you considerably relax, almost falling back into his hold. His arm around your waist spoke volumes to you and part of him knew, part of him wanted to assure you that—

“I’ll be here in the morning,” he promised.

Because Eita knew that perhaps, you two needed to be reminded that you both weren’t alone, that there were people out there who desired both you and him; that the loneliness was just a blip in the timeline, and that eventually, your needs to be loved and appreciated wholeheartedly would be fulfilled someday by others than each other. You two could be good together, but the circumstances and other factors weren’t perfect. Maybe in another lifetime, Eita thought to himself.

And just as he suspected, that promise was all you needed to peacefully succumb to the dreamworld, with him following soon after.

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