#we can still see your skin buddy and we really only got two options here 😭 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slothgiirl · 3 years ago

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the medic (keith x reader)

17k. something weird’s going on with keith, like alien weird. as the team medic, you’re concerned.

“So he is avoiding me,” you muse aloud, grabbing one of the pink alien food biscuits that were Hank’s latest experiment. Though it had been hours since Voltron had taken out the Galra Empire’s presence on this Balmera, you’d only just seen the last of your patients. Altean medical equipment did wonders.

After a battle, you were hardly surprised to find Hank in the kitchen, grounding himself as he cooked. You were surprised to run into Keith.

“Yeah,” Hank nods, “Probably trying to avoid another dental exam.”

You flush bright red, “His teeth fell out! Sorry for being concerned.” Between you and Lance, you’d managed to get a look at Keith. A fist fight with some alien species that was cooperating with the Galra had not gone Keith’s way, knocking out two of his teeth.

Shiro, predictably, had waved it off and accepted Keith’s insane explanation that his teeth would grow back on their own without question: given his hand waving of the red paladin’s eyes glowing slightly in the dark, more than any human’s should (human eyes didn’t glow at all!). Hindsight was twenty twenty.

The yellow paladin shrugs as he mixes orange noodle-esque things in a bowl.

Team Voltron was full of strong personalities. Add in Lotor and his friends dropping in, there was always something going on.

Hank just wanted to unwind from spending the past few hours destroying heavy duty mining equipment without hurting the planet. “So how are the biscuits?”

You chew on one, still bothered by Keith. Maybe Hank was right and he was trying to hide something from your keen gaze. You hoped not. Knowing the red paladin, and after two years in space, you certainly did, he’d rather suffer in silence until there was no other option than get medical attention. Back on earth with needles and scalpels, you understood, but in the Castle of Lions…

“Kind of like a rice cracker,” you tell Hank helpfully. “In a good got snacks at H-Mart way, not the sad quaker oats rice snacks.”

“Oh H-Mart,” Hunk smiles, “they don’t have those in space. They do have salt though. Found that at the last market we went to.”

“As long as alien food doesn’t poison us,” you comment. It was lucky that hadn’t happened. It was alien food. But not one negative reaction which either made humans some of the most hardy species or you were just lucky.

“Yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I’ve gotten pretty good at recognizing what’s edible and not. I know Pidge said there’s some books, but my Altean is pretty bad.”

“Languages are hard.”

“Wish there was a space version of google translate.”

“Hunk-”

“Yeah.”

“That’s genius!” You look at the yellow paladin, wondering how a universe with speech translators never thought to do the same for written language.

“I know,” Hunk smiles while popping another tray into the oven.

—————

Lance finishes painting your toenails. It was a rare day when there were no space battles or rebel meetings. “Pidge,” the blue paladin whines, “let me paint your-”

“Don’t even think about it!”

“It’s supposed to be team bonding night,” Lance counters.

“Lance,” Allaura frowns from where she’s sitting with Shiro, “the castle’s night cycle has not started.”

“Well we can change it,” he counters, “there’s no up or down in space. OR day or night.”

“You can paint my nails,” Hunk offers. “Won’t last long though between the cooking and the vents I’ve been cleaning. This is a 10,000 year old castle. No offence,” he glances at Allura.

“No offence at all. The battles have taken their toll and I’m sure Coran appreciates the help. He is only one man.” She lets out a sigh. The only other remaining Altean was a bittersweet subject for her.

Hunk kicks off his shoes. “My pleasure. Literally. This Castle is so cool. The artificial gravity alone!”

You watch the paint dry on your toes. Only your big toes had actual drawings on them, strange alien creatures you’d all encountered over your time in space. The others were clear with green and blue swirls. “You’re a good artist Lance.”

The blue paladin winks, “I’m a regular old Michaelangelo.”

You laugh, “of course you are.”

“And I’m not just good with a brush,” he wiggles his eyebrows, more boyish flirting than anything serious.

You roll your eyes.

Pidge throws a cushion at Lance. “Oh please like you’ve got past the first date!”

“I have! Vivian Tran from Calculus.”

“Can you focus on my nails,” Hunk asks, but Lance is busy waving the thin brush in hand as he argues with Pidge.

“And Atticus from Cantonese.”

“Didn’t you drop that class,” Hank asks.

“Well, the hindi teacher was way nicer and didn’t hate me. I was good at drawing the characters though.”

“Can you speak hindi,” you ask, having taken French for your language fulfillment.

“Eh-” Lance shrugs.

“Can you flirt in Hindi is the real question,” you ask with a grin.

“He can’t even flirt in English,” Pidge points out scathingly.

“Hey!”

“My nails Lance,” Hunk grumbles.

“Right. Right,” Lance focuses back on his task, going with a yellow that matches Shay. “What language did you take Shiro?”

“English.”

“How many dialects does Earth have,” Allura asks.

“A lot,” Shiro tells the alien princess. “The Garrison pushes being multilingual in its program. Most cadets were already bilingual to start with, generally covering major languages.”

“Ah.”

“Got bored of the training room,” Pidge asks Keith as he walks in, flopping down on an empty sofa.

“It timed out.”

“Sure,” Lance immediately starts, a dog with a bone, “not like you couldn’t beat it or anything.”

“You can’t even get past level 9!” Keith growls back, sitting up with a jolt, skin still slick from sweat and his cheeks were flushed with exertion.

Lance gets up, puffing out his chest. Oh boy, here they go again. The rivalry thing they had going on got old fast to everyone around them. While it did push them to be better paladins, it was annoying to hear. “Oh like you’re any better.”

Hunk takes the brush from Lance, finishing off his last toe on his own.

“I am,” Keith bites back, a growl still audible from his chest.

“Only because you cheat!”

“It’s not cheating!”

“How is it not-” Lance stops, furrows his brow, then grins. “You got a little something there.” And like a thirteen year old, Lance points and laughs.

Keith frowns, his hand coming up to his cheek.

Sure enough, Lance was right. Keith had a couple of angry red blemishes on his cheek.

“You have adult acne,” Lance giggles, immature as ever. He was always able to find an angle to everything. It was what made him such an excellent strategist.

“It’s not adult acne!” Keith scowls, scratching at the blemishes.

“Its been three years,” Lance retorts smugly.

You frown. “No. It’s been like two.” You look over at Pidge to confirm, “Right?” You were like ninety percent sure you were twenty.

“Two and a half,” Pidge answers.

“Ha! You’re twenty! Adult-”

“I don’t have adult acne!”

They’d fought over more meaningless things before.

If it was two and a half years, maybe you were twenty one? You frown. How old would you be before you ever saw your family again?

Stashing that depressing thought away, you focus on Keith and the red marks on his cheek like a line coming down to his jaw. “It could be a rash,” you utter thoughtfully. Pidge and you had already encountered a very itchy plant before. “Or space ringworm-ring line?”

For the first time in days, Keith looks at you, meeting your gaze. “It’s not a rash!”

You lift your hands up, “okay. Okay. Geez.” When it came to Keith, you didn’t push too hard. He was too stubborn for it to work.

Lance, however, “hey, it’s okay Keith-buddy, just use toothpaste.”

“Toothpaste makes it worse,” Hunk counters. “Not great for your skin either.”

“It always worked for me,” Lance counters. “Or a clay skin mask.”

“Clay? You mean that green mud,” Keith clarifies.

“It’s clay!”

“Clay would work,” you agree with Lance. “Hey it could be like a spa day!”

“I could go for a spa,” Hunk nods.

Pidge shakes her head, “right. I’m going to try and see if I can get a signal back home.”

Shiro looks over at you, “do you really think it could be something serious?”

You shrug. “No clue.”

Keith huffs, “Just drop it,” he states dramatically, headed for the door. He was over being the center of attention.

“So face masks?”

You nod, “want to try it Allura?”

“I would love to try the clay mask,” she smiles brightly.

——————

Te-Osh’s rebels had sent for Voltron, less fighting than rebuilding.

While you were no paladin, you had spent the majority of the day helping Allura take stock and synthesizing medicine, everything from serums to numbing gels. Just your luck the machine had overheated and given out on the last batch. It was a pretty large machine.

You stick your head inside, waving off the smoke. With your nails, you pry open the hutch and take stock. You were no Pidge or Hunk, still unsure how the thing even worked, but it was clear it needed a new regulator and starter. “Plenty of those lying around,” you utter, scrunching your face at the awful burnt hair smell. Your finger finds the ventilator button on your wrist controls, and there-the smell gets sucked out of the room.

“Is this a bad time,” Keith asks behind you.

Startled, you bang your head on the mental. “Keith,” flushing hotly when you look back and realize you were ass up in front of him.

He doesn’t even notice, grimacing, hand rubbing his nose bridge.

“What’s wrong?” You hurry to wash your hands.

Keith sits down at one of the medbay tables. “My skull feels like it’s being cracked open,” he explains flatly.

You look him over closely, standing right in front of him. “Where exactly,” you ask, frowning when you notice the blemishes had grown to a full blown rash, hot angry skin peeling and cracking like twin marks down his cheeks. You should have pressed. What if it was a parasite? Keith was half galra.

It was easily forgotten given how human he looked. Sure, the signs were there: his unhuman night vision, more strength than he should have, good ears and nose, nails that had torn through metal, but it all faded into the background.

“Does it itch,” you ask, raising your hand, fingertips hovering over the marks on his cheeks.

“Yes,” Keith nods, averting his eyes from your gaze, “mostly it’s hot. And my sinuses…all the way down to my neck. Hurt.”

“Hm,” you turn, reaching for the medical scanner. There was no way you could ever go back to being a medical officer at the galaxy garrison. Earth’s technology was ancient in comparison. “Hold still.”

“Alright,” he says seriously. Keith holds his breath.

You look up at him, in his violet eyes, and smile before laughing. “Keith!”

“You said to hold still,” he points out sincerely, before the corners of his lips turn up. Keith was an expressive guy, his smile lit up his entire being, a lightness in his eyes that made you smile wider.

“Let’s try this again,” you giggle, clicking the scanner and aiming right at his rash first. “Pew.”

He rolls his eyes, snorting. “You too?”

“Mine’s the only right one,” you wink, then look over the reading.

“Not even close.” He scratches at his cheek listlessly.

Whatever reason he had for avoiding you had worked itself out. You’d missed his company.

“Oh yeah,” you challenge, “then what’s the sound?” The readings came up clear. Keith was in perfect health. So not a parasite…space allergies? Those wouldn’t come up on the scanner.

“What is it,” Keith asks, noticing your pensive expression.

“How’s your sense of smell? Stuffy nose?”

He looks up, then takes a deep breath, “now that you mention it…I can’t smell your soap anymore.”

“What?” This was news to you. “You can smell my soap?”

“And whatever planet we’ve been on,” Keith fidgets, blushing as he ducks his head, bangs falling over his eyes, “the soil. It’s all different. But I can’t right now.”

That was worrying. But if the scanner said nothing was wrong…you had to wait and see. It might clear up on its own. You’d give it a day or two.

“Nothing came up on the scanner,” you tell him, “so it should go away on its own. It might just be allergic to something out here.”

He nods, accepting your diagnosis.

“Let me get the medicine.”

“Mhm.”

You pass him a tube of gel and add that to the list of medication you need to synthesize once you fix the machine. Then grab a weekly supply of pain tabs. “Here.”

Keith pops one in immediately.

“Let me know if it doesn’t clear up in two days,” you tell him.

“Worried?”

“Eh, I can always set Lance on you again,” you snort. Shiro was a pushover when it came to Keith. He was no help.

Keith laughs, looking a little more himself. “I could take him.”

“You could,” you agree, “but don’t tell him I said that.”

He tilts his head, smiling. “Coming? Shay got food for us.”

“I’ve got to fix this machine first.”

“Need help?”

“Might ask Hunk or Coran,” you admit.

“I could-”

“No,” you cut him off, placing your hand on his shoulder, “go eat and rest. That’s an order.”

Keith leans into you. “Are you going to write me a doctor’s note too,” he asks, his delivery always so earnest you had to do a double take to figure out if he was joking or not.

“If I have too,” you stick your nose in the air. “I’ll even send one to Zarkon.”

Keith laughs easily. “Why didn’t Lotor think of that.”

You snort. “I’m going to check your lymph nodes,” you tell him, taking a step towards him again. “That okay?”

Keith tilts his head back, “Go for it.”

“Wow,” you chuckle, “who are you and what did you do with Keith Kogane.” You brush his hair out of his face.

“What?”

“Remember when you broke your arm,” you point out, gently pressing your fingers over the side of his throat, feeling the swelled bean shaped lymph nodes under his ears, behind his jaw. “And said nothing for like a week?” It had been your first year at the Galaxy Garrison.

“It was only a sprain,” Keith grumbles.

“Still!” You laugh, “I’m glad you asked for help.” Because this was still Keith and you didn’t want him to think you were laughing at him.

“Mm,” he closes his eyes as you trail your fingers lower, making sure it wasn’t too bad.

The fact they were inflamed at all worried you. You had no clue what was the space equivalent of antihistamines.

Keith’s breath tickles your shoulder, deepening and evening out like he’d finally relaxed. That was most of your patients once you gave them answers and they knew they’d be getting care and treatment. You liked helping people.

You pull your fingers back, ever the consummate professional. It was like the ghost of your garrison advisor was hovering over your shoulder. “They’re not too swollen if you can still eat. Can you still chew?”

“Hm?”

Keith opens his eyes. His expression is glazed and feverish.

“Keith,” you utter, worried.

“Yeah?” His gaze is heavy as it meets yours.

Your skin warms up because he wouldn’t stop looking at you like that.

“Any jaw pain,” you ask, focusing on the task at hand. You bring your hand up to his forehead. He was warm.

Keith leans into your touch, “no.”

“Good.” You bite your lip. Could it be some weird galra thing? Wouldn’t it have come up? You feel your own forehead. He was for sure warmer.

You were going to have to corner Coran about it.

Keith lets his eyes fall shut again and honest to god purrs, leaning into you.

Add cornering Lotor to your list.

You don’t pull away, figuring it was harmless. Lance, Hunk, and Allura were more prone to random hugs. You were more than happy to indulge Keith as well. He already wasn’t feeling well.

You wrap your arms around the red paladin’s shoulders, hugging him, “I’m looking forward to a break from Coran’s post mission food goo once I get done with the machine.”

“Mm.”

He was completely out of it.

His breath tickles your cheek.

“Though I’m not sure there’ll be any left if I don’t go there? Maybe I should grab a plate and then come back here,” you ramble. Keith had never sought you out for comfort. It was touching that he trusted you now. You’d been friends with the others before, with Keith and Shiro and the Alteans, you had skipped right over friendship and gone right to family.

“Oh.”

You look behind you.

Te-Osh takes a step back, “forgive my intrusion. I was unaware-”

Keith snaps out of whatever was going on with him. Bolting off the exam table. “It’s fine. We’re done here.” He hunches his shoulders and beelines for the door.

You frown, still processing.

“I can come back,” Te-Osh tells you, glancing between you and the door Keith had just escaped through.

You shrug. “No. I’ve got time. What do you need?”

“If you’re sure?”

Nodding, you smile, “yeah, what can I help you with?”

———————

“Here is where we will focus the blunt of the attack on. Keith, Lance, engage the fighters. Hunk,” Shiro explains, “you’ll be with me taking out the communications towers. We want to keep the damage to the minimum. The resistance leaders want the factory intact. Pidge-”

Pidge waves the Black Paladin off, “I’ve got the code written.”

“It really does come in handy,” Lance observes, “all those vents are Pidge size.”

The green paladin grumbles, “easy for you to say when you’re not the one crawling around in there. It’s not your knees getting banging up.”

“Well the galra are all like nine feet tall,” Hunk points out, “the vents probably aren’t that small from their perspective.”

Lance unsubtly glances over at Keith.

His rash had cleared up, but not before spreading. In its place were two purple slash marks running from his cheek to jaw, galra markings. No one had pressed…yet.

You were just glad it wasn’t some weird space parasite.

Her brother ruffles her hair, “Pidge sized! A micro pidge,” Matt jokes to himself.

She smacks his hand away, “five feet is a perfectly reasonable size.’

“She could still have a growth spurt,” you add, though it was highly unlikely.

“No,” Matt’s eyes go comically wide as he hugs his sister, “not my hobbit,” relishing in her embarrassment.

“Matt!”

“In summation,” Allura calls you all back to attention, “the paladins will take out Galra forces and Pidge will open the weapons factory up to Vexuin rebels to take over. I will be manning the Castle to ensure no fighters target the work camps and coordinating communications with the rebels.” She turns to look at you, “Matt and you will take down the sentries, freeing the people from the work camps.”

“No!”

Everyone looks over at Keith. The horror on his face is easy to read.

What had brought this on?

Shiro clears his throat.

Keith ducks his head, letting his bangs obscure his features.

“Why not,” Pidge asks grumpily, time was running out. You were all just ironing out the details, “your plans suck.”

“Pidge,” Shiro chastises.

The green paladin was right.

Keith fought the same way you played video games, caring about nothing but reducing the enemies stats to zero. He’d gotten great at teamwork, but he was hardly a strategist.

“Keith,” Allura asks, “do you have any legitimate reasons why Matt should go on his own?” And when she phrased it like that…

The red paladin crosses his arms over his shoulders.

Pidge taps her foot on the floor.

“Okay then,” Shiro takes over, “let’s get to our lions.”

“Coms. Come in earthlings!,” Coran chimes in over the system, “remember this planet’s atmosphere is toxic to breath, too much sulfur in the air, not to mention the heat will give you all a taste of the slipperies. And worse! So keep those space suits on Vol-”

“-Tron,” Lance grins back, having taken a liking to having a kooky space alien uncle.

You lock your helmet in place as Matt pilots the pod towards the work camps. They were just as grim as the first time you’d seen them. It was the same all over in many of the Empire’s work planets. They were at the bottom of the totem pole. There were some planets where the native species and Galra coexisted more or less peacefully, this was not one of them.

“So what’s up with Keith,” Matt asks you.

You shrug. “No clue. I keep waiting for Lotor or one of the Blades to drop in so I can corner them but he’s a picture of perfect health so I’m not worried.”

“But the,” he takes a hand off the wheel, motioning to his face.

You frown, arching a brow. You’d never looked at Allura quite the same after the way she had treated Keith upon learning about his heritage. It’s not like he’d been a completely different person, she’d known him for over a year.

Matt might be Pidge’s brother, but you weren’t about to let anyone get away with giving someone you loved shit. Especially not Keith who would just silently take it.

It made your chest ache, thinking about how sweet he looked when he smiled. He didn’t deserve any of it.

“What about it?” You stare back at him cooly.

Matt focuses back on landing the pod just beyond the sentires line of sight. “Nothing. Pidge figured it was nothing, didn’t even seem curious. I figured you might know, you two are pretty close.” He glances over at you meaningfully.

“We’ve known eachother since the garrison,” though you hadn’t really been friends. Keith had been kind of a loner. You’d tried to include him, having shared a couple classes with him here and there, but he’d never taken you up on any offer.

“Right.” He doesn’t sound all that convinced. “Glad to hear it’s all good. I caught the sneazles while in the work camp,” Matt makes a face.

You laugh.

“It was horrible! But also like an episode of spongebob somehow?”

“Space is weird.” You had way bigger problems and had seen stranger things by now. For fucks sake, you were saving dragon looking aliens from the Galra right now. This planet was like a silent hill game!

Thick fog obscured the rocky landscape. Even from within your suit you could smell the stench of rotten eggs. Yet this was home to the Vexuin.

Shiro gives the signal.

You take the safety off the taser gun Pidge had built for you. Anything pilfered off the Galra was too large for your small stature, just a hair shorter than Keith. The gun packed a punch, with enough voltage to take out the robots.

Matt and you get to work.

“Almost got it,” Matt mutters as you take aim and shoot.

Stupid damn biolocks.

“Hurry the fuck up,” you tell him, dodging a shot from another sentry before frying it with your own weapon. One shot, one sentry. You needed to take them down before they got close. The robots were durable and strong. You knew better than to think you could go hand to hand with one, you were a medic not a fighter.

“I am, I am,” Matt insists. “Ah there,” he grabs a taser flash bomb out of his pocket and tosses inside the sentry outpost.

You shoot again, trying to keep your hands steady. It was easy when it was just programmed machines. Nothing to feel bad about.

Matt and you rush inside, stepping over more fried sentries. You take position at the entrance, gunning down anything that makes its way towards the two of you.

“You in,” you ask him.

“Patience my young apprentice,” Matt says, laughing at his own joke, “it’ll take a moment for my worm to work its way through the software and give me complete control.”

The ground shakes as the main part of the battle takes place outside, at a monsterous factory that’s gray, chimney shooting out smoke. You can only see hints of lions shooting and Galra fighter ships lighting up the sky.

The sulfuric fog coats everything.

You taste rotten eggs on your breath.

Inside your suit, sweat runs down your back.

“Okay,” Matt chimes into the coms, “I’ve hacked the camps. Ready to open the gates.”

The rolling low grutal voices of the Vexuin rebel leaders fill your coms, “Good.”

“Go ahead Matt,” Allura gives the order, “Voltron?”

Pidge answers, “dropping in, should override their” static, “ticks.” Then an explosion reverberates in your ear where the communications device is.

“Pidge,” Keith yells out.

“Keith cover Lance,” Shiro grunts out, blasts audible from here. “Pidge?”

Nothing.

Matt’s face goes ghostly white.

“Pidge, come in Pidge?” Allura asks. “Paladins? Are you able to reach Pidge?”

“Negative,” Shiro replies, “Hunk, take the main gate! Time to land.”

“On it.”

“Guys,” Lance yells, “the shield’s down. Pidge hacked them.”

“Keith,” Shiro yells, “wait!”

“Fine.”

You decide to hope for the best. There was nothing you could do for any of the paladins all the way from here. “Turn it off,” you tell Matt.

He steals himself. “Right.”

The lights of the compound go out. Sentries power down where they stand, puppets with their strings cut. Locks disengage, and for the first time in decades, the Vexuin are free to leave the barracks free from Galra supervision.

You and Matt go out to meet them.

“I could get used to this,” Pidge calls out as everyone meets on the planet’s surface. Rebels come in from the forest slowly, making sure this is for real, before sniffing the air and calling out to their loved ones lingering around the liberated camp complex. Their vision worked in the infrared, all the better to see on this planet. You’d need at least three showers to get the smell out of your hair.

Keith carries Pidge, careful not to jolt the youngest member of Voltron. She holds a leg stiffly, a sprain or fracture.

Matt rushes to his sister, “Katie!”

She waves him off, “I’m fine.” Then snaps her fingers, “Down.”

There’s a small smile on Keith’s mouth as he places her down on the ground gently.

Lance comes up behind Keith, ruffling his hair, and being every bit himself as he comments with a smirk, “good boy.”

The shorter paladin smacks Lance’s hand away, but it’s too late, Lance is already smothering Keith in a hug that turns into a competition, like always with those two. Keith shoves at Lance’s face while Lance tightens his grip on Keith.

Shiro clears his throat, “paladins.”

“A dobesh in the pod,” you ask Pidge as Matt gets his turn to fuss over her.

“Yeah. Landed right as an explosion went off,” Pidge frowns. “Not my best moment, but my program still did it’s job and,” she pats her bayard, “I took them out.”

“Can’t be that bad if you can stand,” you agree. Nothing serious but you’d be keeping an eye on her all the same. The faster she got into the pod and took weight off her injury the better. You didn’t want to exacerbate the sprain.

“The jet pack helped,” Pidge points out.

“Lucky you,” you grin.

Shiro and Allura are consummate professionals as they go over the last of the logistics with the Vexuin, “It would be wise to stay until your people have situated themselves in case the Galra Empire retaliates,” Allura states, ending her sentiment in a question, “but it is ultimately up to you.”

The Vexuin chatter among themselves for a moment before one speaks up, “we would not turn down Voltron’s help. A few quintants should be enough time.”

“Then we will make ourselves of service to you,” Shiro nods. “Please, let us know anything we can help with.”

A red scaled one smiles, showing off her many sharp and jagged teeth, “our people long to see the camp destroyed.”

Hunk offers, “I could help rig a controlled explosion.”

“Very good.”

“The system inside the weapons factory is down,” Pidge tells them, “but I can reprogram it to keep the Galra out so that you can decide what to do with the place.”

“Oh no you don’t,” you cut in, “Matt can take care of that. You’re going in a pod first.”

“Pod person,” Matt mutters under his breath with a snort.

“Then let us get to work,” Allura dismisses everyone.

Pidge tries to take a step, and almost falls over.

You grab her.

Her face goes crimson from the pain.

The adrenalin must have been keeping the bulk of the pain away.

Keith picks her up.

It’s not until you’ve loaded Pidge in for three vargas that you pull off your helmet, savoring the crisp clean air of the Castleship.

“I can still smell the sulfur,” you comment, wrinkling your nose.

Keith shakes his hair out.

You look at him thoughtfully, “must be worse for you though.”

“Why,” he asks, genuinely puzzled.

“Because your nose,” you point out, then frown, “your sinuses did clear up yeah?” He never said anything about it so you figured they had and he could smell fine again, but you weren’t sure.

“Oh. Yeah. They did.”

You smile fondly, “very convincing Keith,” you tell him, reaching out to him. He lets you run your fingers right under his ears, behind his jaw. Everything was in order.

A knot of anxiety dissolves in your chest.

“Well,” he asks, “satisfied?”

“Mhm.” You look at the purple markings on his skin.

Keith’s breath hitches. His gaze is trained on you, watching carefully.

“So if not rotten eggs,” you ask, slowly bringing your fingertips over the marks on the sides of his face, giving him every opportunity to pull away, “what do you smell?” You couldn’t help it. It was that scientific curiosity. Everyone at the garrison had ended up there because they were nerdy in some way: devoting themselves to some STEM field while other kids were watching cartoons. You’d had a stutter as a kid, self conscious about it too, so instead of trying to make friends you read your textbooks under your desk, racing ahead.

Keith’s eyes meet yours. There’s a level of vulnerability in his gaze that worms its way into your chest and all of a sudden you’re incredibly aware of how close you two are, the lack of space between your bodies, your fingers caressing his skin.

You look away, focusing on the marks. They were purple, which was obvious. His skin itself had grown purple, perfectly delineated.

“Like wet soil,” Keith explains finally, “when they just added fertilizer.” You wince, remembering the smell of the horticulture center wafting through the garrison’s campus during the spring. “And garlic.”

“I like garlic. I’d kill for some,” you tell him, sounding very much like Hank. You hadn’t expected to be homesick for food. “Best food they served at the cafeteria.”

“That’s not saying much,” Keith mutters, amused.

You chuckle, pulling your hands away from his face.

He leans forward, asking for physical comfort in a very Keith way: unsubtle and wordlessly, putting the onus on you to get the hint.

Pidge must have freaked him out more than he was willing to discuss.

You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging Keith. “Pidge’ll be fine.” Sure, she was younger and short, but she was more than capable of handling herself. “I’m more concerned about how she left the other guys,” you comment lightly resting your chin on Keith’s shoulder.

His shoulders shake as he laughs easily. “They asked to surrender to her personally.”

“That’s Pidge all right.” You glance over at the pod. She’d be back on her feet in no time.

Keith’s breath against your skin feels nice. Your heart flutters in your chest and you find yourself blushing and pulling away, thoughts racing as you realize just how much you liked this boy. You pull away, unsure what to do and suddenly finding it too awkward to be around him at all.

The start of a whine escapes his throat before he smothers it, looking away, as he lets his bangs fall over his eyes, effectively hiding his easy to read features.

“Let’s go help the others,” you say, fumbling to grab a med kit and click your helmet back in place, your face too warm and it must be obvious. You didn’t want to make things weird. You didn’t. But-

“I’m going to stay here until Pidge wakes up,” Keith tells you.

“Oh. Okay.” You nod. “That’s a great idea. It’s always confusing as hell to get out of the pods.” It was akin to waking up from a midday nap: completely confused and exhausted instead of rested.

Your skills would be more useful with the Vexuim than fussing over Pidge at the moment. And having something to do would keep your mind off Keith.

—————

“You know,” Lance comments, sliding up to you as you watch Lotor strut away from you after another failed attempt to talk to him. “If we bottled up whatever galra repellant you have going on, we could defeat Zarkon with perfume.”

You look over at Lance, trying to suppress a smile. “What would you call it?”

“Starlight.”

“That’s-that’s actually pretty great,” you tell Lance.

“I know,” he grins. Then the latino boy sobers up, “trying to find out what’s going on with mullet?”

You nod. “I even tried to corner Acxa,” you admit. For an eight foot tall purple alien, boy could she make herself scarce.

Lance’s eyes widened in delight, “like could and should peg me Acxa?”

You groan. “Lance, sometimes it’s okay to keep things to yourself.”

“I’m just saying,” he laughs, “the ship’s not that big…”

“It’s designed for six thousand people.” You’d learned that fun tidbit while practicing your Altean with Pidge.

“Like for real!”

“Yeah.”

“Ay dios mio,” Lance utters, “you’re screwed.”

You finally hit the motherlode.

Lotor and his generals are in a stately room that reminds you of the socratic lecture halls at the garrison, sofa arranged in a half circle, with Shiro and Allura. The former Prince had shown up for a reason beyond making a nuisance of himself. Allura looks at her wits end with him, as he smiles like a douche, her eye twitching.

She invites you in without hesitation, “take a seat next to me,” and effectively uses you as a human shield against Lotor.

Literally since you and Shiro were the only humans here.

“Everything has been thoroughly discussed,” Lotor comments dryly, snubbing you once more. Normally, you wouldn’t have cared but you were trying to get information out of the man. “Unless either of you have further questions?”

Shiro hums, rubbing his chin, “I know saddling you with a rebel ship or two will slow you down but I don’t see another way around it. A display of size on their part will go a long way to show it is an alliance and not the Galra Empire hy another name.”

Allura nods, a small smile on her lips as she looks over at Shiro, “The black paladin is right. It will be a steep hill to climb to show that you are not the Galra Empire. Their fears would be alleviated with the presence of the rebel alliance.”

Zethrid sucks in a sharp breath, “So that’s it then. We will always be scorned and merely tolerated.”

“Time,” Shiro sighs with a look of gentle understanding at the muscular woman, “they need time. You can’t erase 10,000 years of history. It is hard to extend trust after being imprisoned and enslaved.”

“The alliance has started coordinating with you and the Blade directly have they not,” Allura asks stiltedly. It was by the necessity of time that they had stopped going through Voltron first. Lotor might be too smug for his own good, but his team was effective at sabotaging warships and infiltrating Galra ranks to liberate prisons and cities, enough to turn the tide for the rebels.

Her feelings towards Lotor and the Blade were still tinged with suspicion, her treatment of them lukewarm at best.

Still, Lotor brushed it off and continued to help. “Well then, Princess, Shiro, we have a long journey ahead of us.”

Shiro nods.

They shake hands.

You stand up, ready to corner Lotor.

“But first a word Shiro, it is a private matter.”

“Yeah, sure,” Shiro leads Lotor away.

Your eye twitches.

That snake!

Zethrid and Narti walk purposefully away as Allura pushes in her chair, ignoring the last two of Lotor’s team. “Princess,” Acxa, tries. “Until next time.” She nods at you, “stay safe.”

Allura gives the woman a strained smile, hooking her arm with yours. Human shield.

“You too,” you tell her. She doesn’t wait, already halfway out the door. You sigh.

Ezor giggles, by far the friendliest and easiest to get along with of Lotor’s team. “Stashing food and water will cut down the embarrassment by half.”

“What?”

“Oh,” she shrugs, “I guess Lotor was right. Darn it! Now I owe him one hundred GAC.”

“Wait-”

But she scurries off.

“Ugh,” you kick the wall, tired of everyone being weird. The usual frustration with being caught up in a space war was just the salt on the wound.

Your toe throbs, “fuck,” you hiss.

“They are rather tiring to deal with,” Allura agrees, reading the situation wrong, “but it hardly calls for assaulting the Castle.”

“Sorry,” you flush red with embarrassment. “I just had a question for Lotor and he seems intent on never being in the same room as me.”

“Ah-,” Allura smiles easily, “Lance did mention that you were in possession of a Galra repellent.” The twinkle in her eyes lets you know she was in on the joke.

“Come, let us work our frustrations out with some introspection.” Which was just Altean for weird breathing exercises that supposedly helped you do alchemy. She had managed to rope you into practicing with her before.

“Anything to spare the wall,” you joke.

——————

You walk back from the library. It was a cozy room, especially when you dimmed the lights. The Castle was always so bright, designed with the Alteans sight needs in mind.

Sometimes you just needed some time away from everyone. You loved them, but spending years with the same people while floating through space…you had no clue how Shiro had managed it.

Getting a walk around the ship was also nice. It was easy to forget how big the Castle was when you mainly stayed on the same three floors. Just a couple months ago Coran had rediscovered the greenhouse. The plants were a little piece of Altea, and had quickly become one of Allura’s favorite spots.

The windows were wide portholes. It unnerved you still, looking out and not recognizing any star, any constellations.

A lump of homesickness lodges itself in your throat. It had been over two years, your siblings would have grown so much in that time. You certainly had. The last vestiges of childhood had gone from your face.

Acne cleared up even without Lance’s ten step routine.

You walk across the bridge, trying not to look down. The viewing platform was clear glass in space, you could lay on it. It freaked you out a little.

It was the only constantly dark place in the castle.

You still yelp when you spot Keith, his eyes luminous violet like a glow in the dark t-shirt. That should have tipped all of you off, but alien was not the first thing that came to mind when you previously believed aliens had never visited earth.

He whimpers, curling up further.

“Keith,” you gulp, focusing on him and not the glass separating you from the void of space. “What’s wrong?”

He looks up at you miserably, blinking sluggishly. “I have the worst migraine.”

“And you’re down here instead of getting painkillers?”

Keith shrugs. “It’s not as bad, quiet. Dark.”

You sit down next to him. “I can go get you something,” you offer, your cheeks warming up and it was ridiculous how you can’t even manage to act normal around him anymore.

“Coran already gave me a dose.”

“Oh.” You were hurt. You were supposed to be the medic. That was your role on Team Voltron.

You hug your knees to your chest, and look down at space. It was darker than the photographs back on earth. Not so purple and blue.

You weren’t Matt who was just as good as Pidge with technology or Allura who was the leader and a princess to boot, you’d just planned on having a late dinner with Hunk once he got over the motion sickness before Lance roped you into following Pidge. You weren’t a paladin.

Keith shuts his eyes. “You were with Allura. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s no bother.” You swallow thickly, letting silence fall over you both.

You listen to Keith breathing, looking around the darkness of space for any familiar stars. You knew the space around Shay’s Balmerra, and Arus was at least a little familiar. But the universe was so vast and wide.

There were planets you’d only ever been to once, each with a different night sky. Some of them never even had a night, with multiple suns staving off a night cycle.

“Do you think Allura minds?”

“Mind what,” you ask.

Keith clenches his jaw, rubbing his temples. “That I look more Galra.”

Allura has always been harder on the Galra. For her, it had been such a short time since Zarkon had destroyed her world and her people. You didn’t agree, but you could understand where she was coming from, the pain still there as she continuously wore Altean mourning pink.

You look over at him, the outline of his body against the glass. “I think your marks look cool.”

“Bullshit.”

“I do,” you whisper gently, considerate of his migraine. Those were the worst. “They frame your face. You look nice,” you finish lamely, looking away. You look nice. Lance might say stupid things but at least he tried.

“What if I looked even more Galra?”

“Like completely purple and tall?” You couldn’t really wrap your head around it. It also seemed incredibly unlikely. Could his phenotype change so drastically? On earth the answer was no, but who knows how the Galra work. It was fascinating to see such a wide range of traits in one species.

He was also half human.

You worried if his body would even tolerate such a drastic change.

“Yes,” he says, not waiting for you as he rants in agitation, “the rebels hate the Blade and Allura doesn’t trust them at all and that’s not even mentioning Lotor.”

“That’s not true. Te-Osh likes Acza and Ezor. Lotor’s kind of annoying if we’re being honest, and I’m sure his being Zarkon’s son makes it a little hard to believe he’s on our side,” you try to reason. “And don’t write off the Galra who have changed sides or were in the camps right alongside other aliens.”

Keith says nothing in response, mouth a thin line as he thinks.

You wonder how long it’s been bugging him.

You want to reach out and hug him, but he isn’t Hunk. You’re not sure he’d want to if he’s not initiating the contact. So you don’t.

“Everyone knows how the last Galra paladin worked out.” A low growl in the back of his throat is enough to clue you in to how distressing this was for him.

Your heart hurts. “And everyone knows you’re not Zarkon,” you state evenly back. “We already know you’re Galra.”

Keith snorts humorlessly. You can’t see his eyes; they’re hidden by his bangs.

“The glowing eyes are not exactly subtle dude,” you point out, “not to mention your hair does the poof thing guinea pigs do when they’re eating, but not when you’re eating, more like when you get annoyed.”

“I-what!” His eyes go comically wide as he sits up. His dark hair does the thing, making him look like a character from those old Japanese kids movies.

You giggle, “you’re doing it.”

Keith tries to look at his reflection in the glass.

You blush, grateful that it’s too dark to see, and then realize that wasn’t true for him, so you look away, hoping he didn’t notice. “Yeah. I’m the medic, it’s my job to know these things. Like how Pidge has two webbed digits on her foot and Lance is allergic to flax seeds and bees.”

“That…makes sense.” Then he smiles, “still didn’t put two and two together.”

“Don’t be a smartass.” Reason number three thousand Iverson had it out for him back at the harrison. “And if anyone has a problem with you I’ll kick their ass.”

“You?” Keith snorts. “You wouldn’t even flip me during self defense.”

“You remember that?” You run a hand over your face, “I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” you always took forever to practice on your partner. And your weak arms didn’t help.

“That’s what the mats were for.”

“Still!”

Keith laughs at your expense.

You smile, taking delight in watching him smile and laugh and you wish it could always be like this and the war would just end.

Then you sober up. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

He doesn’t answer you right away.

“Keith-” you reach out, voice cracking. “You’re going to be okay, giant purple space cat or not, right?”

He takes your hand, squeezing it firmly. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

“Good,” you utter, but tears bead up in your eyes anyway. It was terrifying watching someone go through something unknown that you couldn’t help them through for all your medical training. You knew how to set bones and run a pod…not whatever this was.

You trusted Keith.

He knew himself better than anyone. After all, he’d been right about his teeth growing back.

“You really are worried,” he whispers in disbelief.

“Duh.”

“I can smell it on you,” then he seems to realize what he said, and pulls away, ducking his head. Like he hadn’t meant to say so much.

“Really?” Learning about anything alien biology was pretty cool, you had to admit. Allura had once described colours that you couldn’t perceive. It was a fun talk. And then she’d made you meditate for alchemy stuff or so she claimed. It might have just been payback. “Is that new?”

“Yeah,” Keith admits, still drawn into himself. “Can we not-I already feel like enough of a freak already without,” he waves aggressively at himself.

You bite your lip, nodding. You wanted to say something, to get it through his head how you saw him, incredibly kind and fiercely loyal (to the point of taking on Zarkon by himself) and an endearing smile you never got tired of seeing.

You liked him.

The universe was lucky to have him as a paladin.

But you don’t know how to say it in a way he’d accept. And he asked you to drop it, so you do. “Right, I’ll just go then.” He’d been here first, and the glass made you nervous.

Could it withstand a hit from a galra battleship?

Keith opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but he just nods, then winces, “Argh,” he groans as he curls up on his side, covering his ears with his hands.

You rush to his side, kneeling next to him, “Keith,” you utter softly, not wanting to make it worse.

His eyes are pressed close and for all your medical know-how, you’re at a loss.

So you running your fingers through his hair soothingly and wait for the pain to pass.

He shifts, laying his head in your lap as he whimpers.

You can’t stand to watch him and do nothing. You press your com, pinging Shiro and Coran. This was beyond you. He’d trust Shiro with whatever was going on and he’d gone to Coran. You respected that even if it did sting.

Your pride meant little so long as Keith felt comfortable and sought help.

“Shh, shh,” you whisper gently.

Sweat beads on his brow.

Whines escape his throat.

“Fuck,” he grunts, clenching his teeth.

He’s warm to your touch and that rouses another bout of worries. At this temperature it’s a fever, but he didn’t have the symptoms, the flushed cheeks and chills.

Keith curls up further, muscles stiff.

You’re helpless.

After what feels like ages, Shiro and Coran finally appear.

“Number four, Number five,” Coran claps his hands.

You hold out your hand, motioning them to shut the fuck up as Keith winces at the sound.

His hair is damp near his ears.

“Keith,” Shiro utters much more gently, kneeling down on his other side, “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

He raises his head, blinking groggily at Shiro, trying to concentrate through the pain, “Shiro,” he reaches for his brother who easily pulls him against his chest. Keith buries his head in the crook of Shiro’s neck.

You sit back, trying to get out of the way. Your hands are wet.

You look down and realize it’s blood. His ears-

Oh god.

“Number five,” Coran says gently, helping you up, “I’ll take great care of our Paladin. Why don’t you go get cleaned up.”

You don’t get any sleep that night.

——————

You were always struck with cognitive dissonance walking around colonized planets like Rahiri where the natives and Galra lived side by side. This was not a planet ravaged by the empire. The flora-like aliens in all shades of green with rootish limbs and leaves and petals for hair had assimilated into the Empire, achieving citizenship over generations. 10,000 years deca-phoebs was a long time. That was a huge source of tension in the Alliance, what to do with the world who neither wanted or wished to leave the Empire.

It was also a source of dark humor that no one spared the four of you a second glance despite two paladins of Voltron walking around.

Hunk holds Shay’s hand in front of you as they point and awe and drag their feet on the way to the space port.

“You could always stay with,” Hunk says hopefully, “we could just drop you off. Personal taxi service.”

Shay smiles back kindly, “that would be wonderful but I have been away from home for too long. I am, as you say, a homebody.”

“Aw, yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I feel that. I like the ground. And dirt. Piloting is overrated.”

“Don’t let yellow here you say that,” Keith comments so dry, you think he’s serious for a second. Allura and Pidge had gone shopping for supplies. That was an advantage of a planet that had not seen war.

Hunk glances back, clearly having forgotten we had tagged along in case anything went down. “Yeah well, she’d like a small moon. Or an asteroid. There’s colonies on those.”

“Very true,” Shay laughs. “I think my balmerra is also like a moon. A beautiful creature. We have learned how to ask for crystals so we do not need to cut them.”

“That’s impressive. Did the books from Allura help,” Hunk asks.

As much as you liked getting to stretch your legs, seeing a different planet where the threat was not imminent, you didn’t like being a third wheel, or fourth wheel if you went according to Coran’s favorite numbering pattern. That inch difference between you and Keith mocked you.

You glance over at the red paladin.

His gaze kept flickering back and forth, around the street. The occasional loud noise of crates being unloaded made him jump.

“You good,” you ask Keith, cracking a joke so he’d know you weren’t judging him. “You see la llorona or Davy Jones?”

“Hm?”

“You know…a famous ghost? Do they have ghosts in space?”

Keith snorts, cottoning on. “They don’t even have ghosts on earth.”

You pull a face, “well that’s no fun. Seriously, you okay? Or have we been made?”

He shakes his head, glancing around again just to be sure. “So much for Zarkon’s finest.”

You laugh, following Hank and Shay into the space port. Shuttles were departing pretty consistently. Everything was in orderly fashion. You especially liked how no one was shooting at you.

“It takes some getting used to.”

“What does?” You watch as Keith shakes his head, making his hair fall back from his face.

Shay and Hunk go to the ticket counter, but you decide to find somewhere off to the side, wanting to give them privacy.

“Stuff.”

You roll your eyes at Keith, “you suck.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall, looking anywhere but at you. “Lotor explained it to me and Shiro…what’s happening.”

“Oh.” You swallow, looking at Hunk and Shay hugging and saying their goodbyes yet again. They’d said them last night at dinner, this morning in the pod, and again when you’d split from Allura and Pidge. It was cute. They were adorable.

“Sorry.”

“Hm,” you glance over at Keith, not sure why he would be sorry about anything. He was the one getting screwed over by half of his heritage.

“You’re hurt.”

“You can smell that too,” you ask him, holding his deep gaze. There was an intense commitment to everything Keith did; it was reflected in the depth of his violet gaze. He didn’t do things in halves.

“Now I can.” He looks at his shoes, red dusting his cheeks. The red didn’t tinge the purple marks on his skin.

“So this is all,” you’re not sure how to put it, “nothing to worry about?”

“He said it was normal. But because I’m half there’s no way to know what to expect.” He looks away as he says it, stiff as he glances around.

The anxiety that had settled into your jaw since you’d had to wash his blood off your hands eases up. “Giant purple space cat,” you joke, nudging his side.

“Oh fuck no,” Keith grumbles. Even that furrowed expression that crossed his chiselled features made you feel all giddy inside.

Bad timing.

“I’m not hurt I-I just wish you trusted me,” you finally admit. It was silly. You felt selfish, so you tack on, “You know I’m here for you if you need me. We all are. I know Shiro’s your brother, but we’re your friends.”

“I know,” he sighs wistfully, “I do trust you…it’s just-it’s been hard. I don’t know how to feel about any of it and I’m not used to it either.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him, “I’m being silly, making this about me. As long as you know I’m here for you…I’m not trying to force you to tell me anything…” you cringe internally at yourself. The galaxy garrison had been made up of nerds, so it followed everyone was a character. It hadn’t helped anyone’s social skills.

You wish you could just go, I worry about you because I love you instead of stumbling through word vomit.

“Come on,” Keith brings you out of your thoughts, grabbing your hand and pushing through the crowd of people coming and going to different boarding gates, “I think Hunk’s going to need some comfort food.”

You glance around, finding Hunk’s form making it’s way to you both. He was wiping his eyes, bittersweet smile, making no move to really hide that he was crying.

“Let’s get back to Allura yeah,” he tells you both.

“Or,” you go with Keith’s idea, “we can get something to eat. Allura gave us a good hour or so.”

“Varga,” Keith supplies.

“Yeah, that.”

Hunk nods, “that sounds nice. It’s just,” he looks back at the departing shuttle, “it’s hard. It’s war and you never know when your going to see each other again but it’s not like she can just drop everything and I wouldn’t ask her too, if anything I’d like to retire there. Nice and quiet. Maybe open a restaurant…”

“Vrepit Sal two,” Keith offers.

“Could make it a chain,” you add with a smile. Hunk, like you, was not such a gung ho pilot. You had landed the flight simulation without crashing exactly once, for your final emergency protocol exam.

“Thanks guys,” Hunk grins, “but I think I’ll bring some earth out here. Give these people a taste of traditional earthlign cuisine.”

“So your menu’s going to be as long as Cheesecake Factory��s,” you ask with a silly grin.

“Maybe not that long. A burger, ramen, scratch that, pizza instead of a burger.” Hunk rubs his chin thoughtfully sniffing the air and following his nose to a food stand. You trusted him for food. He had a knack for combining goo and exotically colored food that screamed fake and poisonous into pretty great meals.

Keith was still holding your hand, not as a loose afterthought: every now and then he’d rub his thumb against the back of your hand and it sent a thrill down your spine.

You don’t pull away, wanting to savor the feel of his skin against yours even if it wasn’t that deep. You’d hugged and napped with everyone at least once, grabbing each other’s hands in the confusing crowded hovels of swamp malls (actual swamp malls and not places Coran thought of as a swamp mall).

You nab a table outside the stand.

Everything was in Galra which none of you could read. “Damn,” you mutter looking over.

Hunk glances at Keith without subtlety.

You were starting to think only Allura and Shiro could do subtly.

Keith raises a brow.

“Nothing,” Hunk looks down at his screen.

“Point and hope for the best it is,” you shrug.

“I love a good surprise,” Hunk nods, then looks down at his hands, “we’ll see each other again right? Shay…they’re pretty safe. And well…yellow’s got thick armour.” He sighs, resting his cheek against his fist, elbows on the table.

“Shay’s a badass,” you confort Hunk, “she figured out how to communicate with the Balmera and through the Balmera. She’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty freaking amazing,” Hunk blushes.

You order from an alien that somewhat resembles Ezor, all cotton candy color, and twiddle your thumbs, enjoying the rare moment of rest and relaxation.

“I could get used to this,” Hunk comments, savoring the strange dish he’d been served.

“Get a travel food show,” you tease, “I’d watch it.”

“It could be like this all the time,” Keith muses hopefully, “aren’t planets like this proof we could all get along.” He bites into the glowing blue lotus root shaped meal, and blinks widely.

“What,” you ask, looking over at him.

Keith grabs a napkin and spits out his food. “I think I just lost another tooth.”

“You think,” Hunk raises a brow, “how could you not notice a missing tooth?”

“Smile,” you nudge Keith sitting next to you.

He rolls his eyes, before fake smiling which was always so undeniably forced when he did it. You laugh, nodding, “yup, missing tooth.”

Keith frowns for a second, before continuing to eat.

“Oh,” Hunk utters, before he kicks your leg lightly.

You look up, meeting the yellow paladin’s searching gaze.

He looks at you with a knowing smile.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, the tip of your nose burning hotly, you look down, shoving a questionable sticky black slice into your mouth. It was easy to chew despite the sticky-ness, the flavor starchy and nutty.

There was no way this wouldn’t get back to everyone else in the Castle. No way.

They were all so nosy.

Oh fuck.

——————

“It sure is hot in here,” Lance says with a challenging smirk at Keith.

You roll your eyes.

Lance stretches, resting his arms against the back of the sofa, his hand tapping annoyingly against your shoulder.

Keith is unmoved. Or more accurately, Keith’s mouth twists as he tries hard to ignore Lance’s latest attempts to get him to remove his hat, a lime green thing that clashed perfectly as was his fashion sense, or lack of any fashion sense.

Pidge smacks her head, then peaks curiously at Keith: at Keith’s hat.

You flick Lance’s cheek. “Hey hot shot, don’t hug me when you’ve set the thermostat to ninety degrees.”

“Ninety five actually,” he winks, hugging you towards him. Ugh, you couldn’t do it. You’d already done away with your afghan coat, tied your lavender flannel around your waist, what more could you do. You didn’t have shorts in space. The skirts stored in the castle were breezy, but made you feel at risk of tripping over the hem with each step.

“Hm,” Keith voices, taking a seat, “reminds me of home.”

Hunk snorts, “really thought that through,” he tells Lance.

Lance is undeterred. “Could go higher.”

“I don’t think your cow would like that very much,” you point out.

The blue paladin sulks, looking down at you, “you’re just saying that because you like-”

You jab your elbow into his side.

“Ow! What ever happened to do no harm?”

“Technically,” you tell Lance, “I never graduated.”

“She’s got you there,” Pidge smirks from beside Keith. She was taking apart yet another radio. The signal had yet to reach earth.

“Thank you Pidge.”

She shrugs, “It’s true.” Then turns on Keith, “The hat, explain.”

He looks like he wishes he could merge with the sofa at that, slumping in his seat.

You decide to step in, “I’m going to turn the thermo down.”

Lance is quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back onto the sofa, “come on, relax. Like mullet said, it’s homey.”

You throw him a dirty look.

“Keith?” Pidge side-eyes her fellow paladin. He’s sat up, gripping the sofa cushion so tightly he’s ripping hole into the ten thousand year upholstery.

“You okay there buddy,” Hunk asks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

Keith sucks in a breath, and with deliberate motion, pulls the hat from his head.

Oh.

Your eyes widen.

OH.

His ears had changed.

They weren’t nearly as alien as Allura’s, but no one would mistake their shape for human. Keith’s ears tapered up and out, portrudding, but it was more than just a pointed tip, the entire shape of his ears had transformed, resembling a butterfly’s wing. It was still human in color, but…

Hunk breaks the stunned silence first, “so are you going to like to end up purple?”

Keith ducks his head, wrapping his arms around himself.

No one else gets the chance to further interrogate Keith, or hear his own thoughts, because Allura calls everyone up to the bridge.

Lotor hailed the Castle of Lions. Everyone stands around the bridge while Shiro and Allura take the lead as usual. They might as well be twins given how well they got on, communicating differing ideas without undermining the other.

“There are nine warships in the system,” Lotor acknowledges, “I would be much indebted if you would do me the favor of sending Voltron for the aerial battle.”

“The Empire’s presence is still in its early stages,” Acza explains, “but their terraforming development for the planet will cause the destruction of the Talpidae living there.”

“Then we have no choice,” Allura clenches her fist, never one to sit back while there was something she could do about it, “we will provide air support. Sent me the coordinates so that I may Teleduv there.”

Lance is still obviously eyeing Keith’s latest development. It was readily visible, and you were fighting the urge to do the same.

But you weren’t also trying to flick his ears.

Keith growls lowly.

Lance sniggers.

Pidge offers Lance a piece of paper to make paper balls with.

Hunk sighs long sufferingly, having resigned himself to the more childish side of his two friends. They were terrors. Put Pidge and Lance together, and they were gremlins out of a horror movie made for elementary school teachers.

You slip your hand into Keith’s, squeezing reassuringly. It would take some getting used to like anytime someone got a new haircut, but you would. Like his atrocious boots, they’d become an endearing part of him.

Keith squeezes your hand back.

Shiro nods, agreeing with Allura, “have the Talpidae been contacted.”

“Very much so,” Ezor chimes in, “they’re funny little people. And their sensory-”

“The point Ezor,” Lotor sighs, rubbing his nose bridge.

“They sent for help to the rebels. We were closest to their system,” Exor elaborates with a shrug, “they do not have the background to fight head on, and will evacuate most of their people into bunkers, but they have been digging under the new construction and weakening the structural integrity of the Galra outposts.”

“Very well,” Shiro accepts, “Princess Allura and our chief medic will meet with the Talpidae as a show of goodwill.”

“Our only medic,” Hunk points out.

Keith growls, his hand squeezing yours hard.

You all look over at him.

“Red Paladin,” Allura says, trying to look as professional as possible in front of her least favorite of Voltron’s allies, “is something the matter.” She shares a look with Shiro, but otherwise looks unsurprised at Keith’s less than human ears.

Or maybe she’d make a great poker played.

“Can’t you meet with the Talpidae after the battle,” Keith utters harshly.

“They may need immediate tactical support,” Allura reasons, “we should be there in person to provide it.”

“It’ll be fine Keith,” Shiro adds.

Their words do little to calm Keith down. His dark silky hair puffs up. His grip on your hand tightens and you feel miffed. You’d been on the ground working triage before. You might not be a fighter or pilot but you could look after yourself.

You pull your hand out of his. “I really don’t see what the problem is,” you tell Keith pointedly.

“I’ll watch Allura’s back and she’ll have mine.”

Allura nods. “Our chief medic is correct-”

His ears twitch, “You’re not exactly a fighter.”

Shiro covers his face with a hand.

Your brows furrow. You’re livid. “So! I won’t be fighting. We’ll be in the bunkers with the Talpidae. It’ll be safe so it doesn’t even matter.”

“If it’s perfectly safe then you don’t need to be there,” Keith’s voice breaks, a whine escaping his chest but you don’t care, done with the conversation.

“Yikes,” is Ezor’s quiet whisper.

You’re not a paladin so you don’t care, you just stalk off the bridge ready to go scream into your pillow in frustration. Or better yet, go for a swim and scream underwater.

“Wait-” Keith follows you.

You ignore him.

“I just-,” he keeps trying as you stalk down the stairs, deciding your room was better after all if only because you could lock Keith out.

“Listen-,” he whines.

“I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t mean what,” you round on him, hands on your hips, pissed off and maybe some of its was from being stuck on this stupid ship all the damn time but like eighty percent was earned. You might not be taking on a squad of Galra soldiers, but you could take one on if it came to it.

Keith at least has the decency to look miserable, sad chirrups in his throat as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at the ground.

“Well?” You tap your foot on the ground.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he finally manages. “Especially if you don’t need to be there.”

“But I do,” you counter, “There’ll be people running into those bunkers having escaped soldiers and sentries and the faster they get treated the better chance they have.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Keith repeats himself. “You-you can hold your own.” He looks up at you through his bangs, still hunched in on himself.

“Obviously.” There’s no heat, the anger having deflated already. It was just white hot ache in your chest, hurt at the idea that Keith thought you would get in the way, that you had nothing of value to add to the Alliance and Voltron.

You bite your lip.

Don’t cry, you think to yourself.

You were being dumb.

He was just being plain stupid.

“I mean it,” Keith repeats, “I’m sorry. I was just looking for an excuse to make sure you were safe.”

“Right, because Allura can handle herself but I can’t.” Your voice cracks.

“No,” Keith says in a rush, “it’s not the same.”

“Because I can’t fight?”

“That’s not,” Keith runs a hand through his hair, “It’s me okay. I’m-I’ve always jumped into things without thinking, but I decided to go for it, like breaking Shiro out but now I’m doing things before I even notice and it’s all these stupid Galra instincts!”

You swallow.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you once more. “I didn’t mean to and I’m sorry. No one thinks you can’t handle yourself. That’s why Shiro paired you up with Allura, because he knows you’re capable of watching her back.”

Your smile is fragile as you look over at him, “yeah?”

“Yeah.” Keith holds your gaze, looking as skittish as a stray dog. Another whine escapes his throat.

What the heck.

You hug him, “you’re such a dumbass.” You understood why he’d worry. This was war. Pidge was on a two man campaign with Shiro to get Matt to stay on the Castle, both scared witless that Matt might die on a mission with the rebels. Ulaz had died so everyone could get away.

You’d had patients in the last decaphoebs you could do nothing but ease their pain. You’d had patients that you couldn’t even administer anything for the pain because of how torn apart they were: guts spilling out, charred people shapes that you were surprised to still find breathing.

The images would never leave you as long as you lived.

“I’m sorry.” Keith buries his head in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin sent shivers down your spine.

You hug him tightly, aware that every battle could be your last: the last time you saw him. “You’ve said that already,” you tease, memorizing the smell of him, stale sweat and something cloying that you had wanted to bottle up from the moment you’d met him and had never found on anyone else. As embarrassing as it was to admit to anyone other than yourself, Keith smelled good. Really good.

Most people smelled like nothing at all.

He stiffens.

“But it’s nice to hear again.”

Keith smothers a laugh.

You kiss his hair. Boys were so dumb.

He purrs.

You smile goofily, warmth building under your skin, and toes curling up in your shoes. You should say something. Right?

At some point?

Or maybe it shouldn’t be said under the looming threat of an upcoming battle.

Fuck.

You can’t decide, so you say nothing at all.

——————

Bombs still pelt the surface.

Your teeth chatter as the ground shakes even deep underground. Even more soil falls onto you. Your spacesuit was more oche than white at this point as you carry an injured Talpidae in your arms. It’s arm had been completely blown off. Sluggish blue blood oozed out.

Allura was last, tailing the group.

You reach the bunker.

The sentries had followed some of the feeling Talpidae into the tunnels, but they’d been sorted out.

The people here were strange, russet in fur colouring, with no discernable eye, just strange pink flagella protruding from their nose and large claws for digging. They stood at about Pidge’s height.

The bunker seals and you get to work.

Tourniquet here, pain patch there. There were so many of them banged up.

The fight continued on the surface.

The paladins had to form Voltron.

You and Allura work as a team, she takes the bruises and broken bones with no immediate risk of death. You triage the worst of the Talpidae, giving away your precious stash of painkillers to those you can’t save and are not in for a quick death, a Talpidae lies twitching, it’s nose blown off but alive. Another holds it’s hand, but shakes their head when they look at you. They weren’t going to make it.

Training kicks in and you focus on saving those you can.

Your hands stain blue from the blood.

Allura works alongside you.

You cauterize a Talpidae named Soedob’s hand, the claws on their right limb were gone, but most of it was spared.

“You smell Galra,” Soedob utters, blinking out of the pain induced haze as the painkiller kicked in.

You half hear, half don’t, so focused on the task at hand. It was easier to not stop until you were finished and could curl up and sleep and not think about blood and war and Zarkon.

“We have Galra allies,” Allura answers diplomatically, leaving the issue of the half Galra paladin alone.

It irked you.

“No, not them,” Soedob notes. “Those had a different aura.”

“Smell,” you guess, finishing off. You hoped the fighting ended soon. You supply was not unlimited. The castle had better facilities.

“Is that what you call it?”

“Our primary sense is sight,” Allura explains, giving you a long look.

You shrug. You hadn’t even seen any of Lotor and his team. There hadn’t been time. It had all been relayed over coms, over video.

“Another then?”

You swallow thickly, flushing with embarrassment because you both spent time around Keith but Soedob was only smelling him on you and it’s not like you had been doing anything intimate…well, it had felt intimate, hugging Keith, but it wasn’t anything like when cadets snuck into each others dorm room, shoving a sock on the door handle in the universal symbol of don’t bother us. “The red paladin is part Galra.” Mercifully, your voice doesn’t shake from the embarrassment, but you can’t look at Allura.

“Ah,” Soedob nods, neither outraged nor pleased.

Then there’s no more time, you have more Talpidaes waiting for medical aid. You give their own healers some of your supplies, freeing up Allura to find the clan leaders.

You can feel Allura’s questioning glance on you.

——————

“Team meeting in the mess hall,” Shiro calls over the coms system.

“Mess hall,” Pidge rolls her eyes, “it’s the dining room.”

You snort.

“I like to think of it as the dining room too,” Hunk offers. “I mean there’s only eight of us. It’s sort of like being home again.”

“Mess hall makes me think of the garrison,” you admit, falling into step besides them. “and the food.”

“Ugh,” Pidge groans. “That was the worst. Matt wasn’t kidding.”

“It does make the space packs easier to digest,” you muse, “maybe that was the point.” It took the garrison two years to get to Mars. It was funny, once you’d thought that was a long way from home.

“I liked the cheese garlic bread,” Hunk allows.

“Food goo,” Pidge grins, “or the garrison space food?”

“Food goo.” Hunk doesn’t even have to think.

“Food goo,” you agree. “Though not Coran’s paladin special.”

“You don’t even eat that,” Hunk huffs, half outraged half amused, “you’re always like well I’m not a paladin so…”

You laugh. “Seeing it is more than enough.”

The rest of the ship’s inhabitants are already there waiting for you. Lance is trying to teach Coran how to play slide, moving very slow as he claps their hands together.

Shiro and Allura are in easy conversation. Her mice scamper around her feet.

Keith looks absolutely miserable next to Shiro, folding himself into the smallest possible size, trying to disappear. It was hard to reconcile the Keith that was quiet with the Red Paladin that shot first and asked questions later.

You smile at him, excited to see him, but also figuring he could use some reassurance, whatever it was going through his head. Keith meets your gaze and the corners of his mouth turn up, before he ducks away.

You know better than to take it personally.

It was Keith.

Your toes curl inside your shoes and you bite back your smile, suddenly aware of how much you might be revealing and not wanting Lance of all people to start a meeting by commenting on it. For him, it might be all fun and games, but you weren’t sure what to do with these newfound warm and fuzzy feelings. You sure as fuck didn’t want to be called out on it.

You weren’t sure what to do about liking Keith so your current plan of action was: nothing.

“Thank you everyone for being here,” Shiro claps his hands together, his leader impression defaulted at awkward dad. He thought he always had to be on. Despite being the most trained out of us, he’d only just started his career during the Kerberos mission.

You wonder if he’d picked up his leadership style partly from Pidge’s dad.

“Where else would we be,” Pidge shrugs, never one to miss a shot.

“All the same,” the older man smiles.

“Yeah, no problem my dude, bro,” Lance flashes finger guns at Shiro.

You snort, taking a seat between him and Hunk.

“But seriously, what’s up,” Lance leans forward. “Or is this some lowkey way to keep us on our toes,” he winks at Allura who smiles indulgently.

“I await the news alongside you paladins,” Allura answers, hands resting in her lap. She looks over at Shiro.

The whole room turns to look at Shiro.

He had called the meeting.

Meetings tended to be informational in nature: updates about the expansive war, rebels hailing Voltron for intervention, the Blade passing on the rare bit of information, and the always popular distress signals. But Shiro and Allura both looked too calm for that.

Keith goes rigid, a spring wound up too tight.

Hm.

You wondered if the elephant in the room would finally be addressed.

Shiro puts his hand on Keith’s shoulder, smiling encouragingly the way a parent dropping their child off for their first day of school would, “go ahead Keith.”

The red paladin focuses his gaze on Shiro, his expression more sour than it’s been in a long time.

The past few years had done a lot to get him to open up to everyone on board, but right now, he looks exactly like the stubborn closed off cadet he had been back on Earth.

His ears twitch slightly. He manages to look even more taunt, and you wonder if he’s going to wave this off. Then, he lets out a breath.

His body is stiff, but Keith no longer pulls away from Shiro. He looks down at his hands pensively, nails cut to the quick. “Right.”

You can feel the nervous energy of the rest of the room, leaning in, waiting to see what Keith wants to say.

“Mhm, go on,” Lance says, chin in hand.

Hunk elbows him in the side.

“Hey!” Lance is about to start in on Hunk.

“Guys,” you snap, shoving Lance’s shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” Lance zips his mouth and throws away the key, “shutting up.”

“Looks like that didn’t work,” Pidge snarks.

“Paladins,” Allura’s clear commanding voice rings out. When everyone shuts up again, she nods at Keith, “you may continue.”

He looks up at everyone through his bangs, “I’m going through Galra settling.”

Hunk looks over at Allura, who was far more familiar with all this alien mumble jumble than anyone else.

Shiro squeezes Keith’s shoulder.

“And that is,” you prompt gently, before Keith hastily decided that was all he needed to say and left.

He meets your waiting gaze. Under the ship’s bright rooms, his eyes were obviously violet, heavy on the purple. He’s chewing his bottom lip like he isn’t sure he wants to go through with saying any of this and you wonder if he must be thinking of how weird things were between everyone when he learned of the alien part of his heritage.

Your mouth quirks up into a smile.

You were more than willing to stuff someone into a cryopod if they bothered Keith. He may be part of Voltron, tasked with defending the universe, but you’d make sure there was someone to defend him.

An embarrassing rush of heat bubbles under your skin. You look away, nervous.

“Shiro,” Keith asks.

Shiro nods, wrapping his arms fully around Keith’s shoulder. “Galra settling is when Galra,” he looked like he was trying to figure out exactly what he was talking about as he said it. Aliens were weird. “When Galra reach a certain age their appearance locks in.” Even Shiro looks a little puzzled. He was a pilot, not a biologist. You knew organisms back on earth who could manipulate their genotypes, generally sex changes with the right environmental conditions, but you weren’t sure there was anything comparable to whatever this was. “The Galra are apparently very adaptable in individuals. That’s why there’s such a range of them.”

Huh.

That explained the fur, range of tails, more reptilian looking once, and the eyes.

You wanted a Galra biology course, a full semester long one. What exactly caused such a plasticity in their phenotype? Did the trait have to be encoded in their genotype to appear or was there something freakier, Allura’s space magic, going on?

“-because he’s half human and we don’t go through anything like this it’s more painful than it would be. Lotor said the chameleonic abilities of Alteans helped him when he went through this,” Shiro finishes without a satisfying or thorough explanation.

At least Keith wasn’t dying.

Thank god.

Thank whatever freaky Altean magic existed in the universe.

“So,” Lance starts, “it’s Galra puberty.”

In a split second Keith loses any self consciousness about the situation, “it’s not Galra puberty!” His hair puffs up and you have to fight the urge to laugh, covering your face with your hands.

“There’s…” Shiro glances at Keith, before Lance and Keith could really get into it, “there’s more.”

Keith looks mullish, but ultimately gives Shiro the go ahead.

“Part of these..changes,” the black paladin explains, “have brought out some Galra instincts.” Clearly he was having as much trouble grappling with what this meant as Keith was. Your body suddenly deciding to change was no fun when you had no context for it. “Among them, the need to scent family…”

Pidge tilts her head, “is this like the most convoluted and emotionally constipated way of asking for a hug,” she asks Keith.

Keith smiles wryly, “pretty much.”

“Oh come here dude,” Hunk grins, engulfing Keith and Shiro in a hug.

“Ah number four,” Coran points up in the air, “I am now just recalling the galra that lived on Altea having explained this once, of course it didn’t occur to me because of the apparent dominance of your human genes.”

“So they’re actually co-dominant,” you muse as Lance drags Pidge along for a “group hug!”

“No.no,” Pidge makes a half-hearted effort to wiggle out, being a younger sibling herself, was used to being subjected to affection. She smiles even as she struggles.

“It would seem so,” Coran nods, “though not every gene.”

“Just these.” You wonder if there’s a space equivalent of the human genome project.

“Lance,” Keith yelps, “that’s my foot.”

“Buddy, I am not feeling the love here.”

“Is it working,” Hunk asks, peering at Keith, “are you going to turn purple now?”

“No one turns purple from hugs,” Keith replies, annoyed but makes no move to pull away.

“Thank you for trusting us with this Keith,” Allura smiles, her eyes crinkling.

“Get in on this too Princess,” Shiro motions over, before catching your gaze, “you too. Don’t think you can get out of this. You’re part of Voltron too.”

You snort, and join the group hug.

Pidge’s elbow is a bony thorn in your side and there’s the slight hum from Shiro’s prosthetic, but it’s a good mix of warmth and intimacy with the people you were closest to in the entire universe. Allura’s shoulder presses into you back and it’s sort of ballooned to ridiculous proportions, Keith somewhere in the center of it all, his hair barely visible to you.

“Add cuddling Keith to the chore wheel,” Pidge proposes.

Keith groans.

“How about we let Keith decide,” Shiro proposes.

You snort, knowing him too well. “Are you willing to take that risk? Died-from lack of hugs.”

Lance laughs.

Shiro looks convinced by your stellar argument.

“I’m not that bad,” Keith grumbles.

“You’re a terrible hugger,” Lance argues back. “You’re all stiff, like you’re enduring one of Iverson’s paradox sims. Not as bad as my abuelo but still.”

Keith lunges for Lance.

Someone topples over.

Everyone falls.

You laugh, smothered by limps and someone’s hair in your mouth…maybe Hunk’s? You don’t move, worried about kicking someone’s head.

From somewhere, Keith does that low rumbling chest noise that reminds you of a cat purring happily.

No one makes fun of him for it.

——————

“You should comb your hair before we take the pod down,” you tell Keith. You’d spent your free time before this alliance dinner scrolling through a datapad, trying to learn names, where they hailed from, species, things that may prove useful.

Half a varga ago, Keith had found you balled up on a sofa, and sat next to you, his way of asking for physical comfort. You’d obliged him readily, throwing an arm over his shoulders and spooning him as you both laid on the sofa. He was already in the paladin uniforms that Allura had dug out once the alliance became a reality instead of a loose string of rebel groups fighting the Galra empire.

You’re both short and slight, fitting together perfectly.

You squash any feelings you have, this wasn’t about you, it was about him. You’d done it a thousand times with Hunk or Lance, fallen asleep listening to Allura, why should Keith be any different? (You know why.)

He’s reading the screen with you.

“I doubt they’d notice,” he remarks as you scroll to a particularly vivid color alien race with sensory appendages sprouting from their heads.

“You have a point desert bum,” you tease, “I’d rather be a bum by a beach town. All surfer bro.”

“Can you even surf,” he asks flatly.

“No. Learned how to swim at the garrison,” you admit. “But tanning by the water has to be more appealing than roasting under the Texas sun.”

“I like the desert.”

“I know.” You were pretty sure everyone just liked their homes.

“It’s quiet,” he admits, “and watching how the sunlight transforms the landscape…”

“It’s too big and wide,” you admit, thinking of space. Flat land that went on forever…empty dark space that went on forever.

“Good for driving,” Keith smirks.

You laugh. Or course that’s where his mind went. “Sure, but it all looks the same, everywhere you turn.” It was disorienting. To be fair, you were a city girl. Your background noise was cars honking and people yelling even at four in the morning. The garrison had been a big adjustment.

“It’s really not. You just have to look.”

“I’ll trust my gps,” you counter, “not my sense of direction. I’d probably end up one of those cautionary tales about mirages and deserts.”

“You can’t really get a good signal,” Keith replies lazily, his body slack against yours, “out there. It’s best to mark a trail with chalk if you don’t know the area.”

“But you do, know it I mean?”

“Out past the Garrison? Mhm. All of it. We used to go hiking…before,” he trails off.

You press your lips to his hair lightly, before shifting, “my arms asleep.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” You sit up, “it’s nice. I used to put my sister to sleep this one year she had nightmares almost every night.”

“You miss her,” Keith states, sitting up, looking at you with his intense expression. Having someone focused one hundred percent on you was a new experience. He wasn’t thinking of a thousand other things, just you.

“I do. I miss everyone, but,” you shrug, “I’ll see them again. Meanwhile you’re stuck with me.” You smile fondly at Keith. “I’m going to change before we have to go to dinner.”

“I’d take fighting Zarkon anyday,” Keith mutters, cringing at the upcoming show of diplomacy. There was so much smiling and hand shaking. It was exhausting to be that extroverted with a roomful of strangers.

Even Lance zonked out after these things.

“Knock on wood,” you laugh.

_____________

Treaties have been signed. A wrecked Galra fleet floats in space above the planet your on today, but today’s battle is won.

One of Lotor’s General’s is here, Acza. She’s wary, and surprised at the warm reception she’d received. She might be Galra, but she’d been crucial in taking down the Galra base’s shields. Biolocks, Zarkon should really rethink those.

You sip at your thick drink, warm and flavored like cinnamon oatmeal, that chases off the chill of the night. The idea had been to sleep, your hands still ached from all the sutures and stitches you’d woven, but Allura refused to hear it, dragging you along. There would be time for sleep on the Castle, she’d claimed, joyous to have helped another besieged planet.

“My congratulations,” a Blade utters from behind their glowing mask.

You jump, not having known there was even a Blade here. They were allies, yet their anonymity that made them so useful in information gathering, created a gap between you. You had no way of knowing who this person was. Their suit obscuring any details, the mask a rank.

You couldn’t even see their eyes.

“For what,” you ask, puzzled. You hadn’t fought. Your skills made you most useful after the battle, trying to save lives and patch up wounds. It was important and emotional draining work, but you hardly won battles.

Because of the mask, you can’t get a read on their reaction. Blades. Spies. Maybe if you could see their eyes…

They nod, and walk off without explanation.

You watch them go, still confused until they disappear among the bodies loitering around, celebrating liberation.

It was a feat to disappear when you were eight feet tall.

First the Galra had avoided you like the plague, the black plague, now they were being cryptic as fuck.

You lean your head down, trying to sniff your armpits without making it too obvious. Was it the blood? Or the space bleach? That tended to linger.

You didn’t smell that bad. Certainly like bleach and rubbing alcohol…

You take another sip of your drink, looking around for a place to sit. You’d been on your feet for too long. You wanted to sleep.

Someone would find you.

You wander around. Smiling when someone notices you, and thanks you and you hurry to get away before they ask you a hundred questions. There were only eight humans in space. Well, seven and a half. You stood out.

They wanted Voltron, but you would do.

“There’s space here,” Acxa calls out.

“Thanks,” you plop down next to her, sagging into the seat. Oh, yeah, you were so freaking tired.

“Of course. You look dead.”

“Yeah,” you look around the rebel camp, “I’ve no clue how they have the energy.”

“It’s like that everywhere. This is their home,” Acza offers, “people fight hard for their homes.”

You nod, before looking over at the alien woman, “not avoiding me anymore then?”

She shrugs, not disputing the allegation. “No need anymore, now that you and Keith sorted yourselves out.” She’s so blunt about it. “Galra are so sensitive when settling. We didn’t want to cause any incidents.”

“Is this about the scenting?” You still hadn’t had time to read through the information you’d gotten your grubby little hands on.

She nods.

You put your drink down on the mossy ground. “Yeah, Keith explained it. Well, Shiro did, really. Lance is over the moon about having an excuse to bother Keith.” Now you really all were a family. You’d named it outloud.

Acxa’s brows furrow, “Lance?”

“I think he just misses his family a lot,” you offer. “We all do and while we’re family too, it’d be nice to see our family back on earth too.”

She frowns. “Keith and you are not,” she asks slowly.

“Me and Keith,” you flush, ducking away from her. “No-I, no. We’re not.” You should’ve gone back to the Castle the moment Allura turned her back. She would’ve never known.

Acxa’s frown becomes tinged with anger and worry, her hand grabs your wrist. “Galra have more than one type of scenting, between families, and between partners.”

“Oh.”

You try to connect the dots but your brain gets stuck between ideas. Scenting. Keith. You. You and Keith. It was right there but-

“Keith isn’t marking you as family,” she explains slowly, “he’s marking you as his partner.” Acxa waits until her words sink in before adding, “to do so without letting the other know…” She makes it clear what a social taboo that is.

But you’re one step behind her.

Did Keith like you?

You think back to all the times you’d been with him in the past few vargas, trying to pinpoint any hint: he’d smiled at you but he was happier now in general so it could be a coincidence…

“If you need,” Acxa offers, “I will help clarify the situation.” It’s an awfully kind gesture.

“No,” you say in a rush. “no. It’s-I think I need to go talk to Keith.” He’d known what he was doing…you could draw a thousand conclusions but nothing would be better than confronting him about it.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” you stand up, glancing around. During parties, Keith tended to find a quiet corner out of the way. He’d opened up, but he was still more of an introvert.

You find Keith lying stretched out in the shadow of a makeshift building, looking up at the stars. It’s his eyes that give him away, reflecting the light enough to be inhuman, nocturnal vision.

“We need to talk,” you wrap your arms around your body. You weren’t angry, just confused. Didn’t he know he could just come talk to you about it by now?

Keith looks up, startled, then stands. “Alright.” He sounds resigned, a man sentenced to detention for a month which was janitorial duties at the garrison. It kept even the most smartass cadets humble.

You look around.

No one was really here. You could hear the music and people a bit further into the heart of the camp. Here was good enough.

“I talked to Acxa,” you start, “she said-” you look down at the trampled vegetation underfoot. It was embarrassing to your human preconceptions to even think, let alone say, which was why you were pretty sure Keith didn’t mean any harm. Scenting meant nothing on earth, where he’d grown up. “She said you’ve been scenting me, which like I know but not that way?” You look up at him as realization sets in and he ducks his head, looking away. “Is it true?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “I-,” he takes a deep breath before ranting, the agitation and months of buried emotions flooding out, “I hate this. I hate that I can hear the conversation outside and smell which direction Shiro’s in and how much my eyes hurt on the Castle from how bright it is but I don’t-I can’t say anything because I’m already enough of a freak. Before I was just the weird kid but now I’m just a fucking alien freak! There’s always so much going on and I don’t even know what’s next!”

You wait, wondering if there was more.

It was a lot of changes.

You couldn’t understand, there was nothing in your life comparable to your biology deciding to be a little more Galra after twenty years.

“And I tried not to-,” he admits, meeting your waiting gaze, “I tried to leave everyone alone so you wouldn’t,” Keith swallows, forcing himself to continue with an obvious disgust at himself, “you wouldn’t smell like me or whatever Lotor explained but I couldn’t-it was driving me crazy like this itch, this buzzing under my skull and seeing you guys with others-I thought I was going crazy until Lotor explained. And then when Lance would ruffle my hair or you would check that I wasn’t about to fall over and die and-,” he waves his hands in the air, “I would just zone out.”

“Oh,” you utter, recalling past events with a newfound understanding. Keith had been reaching out, all instinct even when he was trying not to be a bother. It broke your heart, how he always came from the perspective that he was an inconvenience.

“I did know,” he says in a small voice. “That-you…but I don’t know if it’s me or this, or all these things happening to me.”

Your expression wobbles. You bite your lower lip, trying to get a handle on it. How silly to worry about a crush when Keith was going through it.

“I like you, but I don’t know if I like you or if it’s just these stupid Galra instincts messing with my head.” Keith deflates, drawing into himself. “Everything

s…it’s been a lot.”

“I get it,” you utter, “maybe not the situation but I’m not mad. Though Acxa was ready to kick your ass and she totally could,” you try teasing.

But Keith flinches, looking away guiltily.

“I’m joking. I-I get why. It makes sense. It’s a lot to get used to.” You swallow, not sure what to do about anything either.

“Its a huge offence,” Keith utters, “that’s why she was pissed. Made worse because you can’t even tell…I-I couldn’t think straight and I…it took the edge off.”

“Scenting me?”

He nods.

You take a step towards him.

“I-,” Keith’s eyes meet yours, his attention entirely captivated by you. It sends a thrill down your spine. You’d seen how he could be when laser focused: on piloting, on training. “I know they say it’s wrong but you and Lance do stuff like that all the time. And I thought…I figured I could figure out how much of what I’m feeling is me and how much of it are these new instincts.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you tell him. “I-you’re right, it’s whatever to me. Like, a Blade congratulated me earlier which was weird but fuck them you know? I can ‘smile and nod’,” you smile as fakely as possible to show what you mean, “through it so long as you’re okay.” He’d bled in your lap.

Keith looks a little unsteady, unsure what to do with your lack of anger. “You don’t-”

“So is it like galra marriage then?” You were curious as to what exactly the Blades were going to gossip about you and Keith.

He makes a choked sound. “Sort of. They bond. It can be broken but that generally means someone killed the other.”

“Let me guess,” you reply, “Zarkon fucked even that up.”

Keith nods.

“That guy’s the worst.” Your voice is light.

Keith snorts, smiling for a split second. “I won’t anymore. I’ll-”

“Keith,” your voice cracks as you out your hand on his arm to keep him from rubbing off, “if its really causing you all this additional confusion in too of everything…you can…” the words were too intimate to say, too charged with a sensuality that he clearly was figuring out. You were willing to wait. For him.

He was conflicted enough without you dumping your feelings on him.

“You don’t-”

You raise your hand, caressing the side of his face with the back of your hand, ghosting over the purple mark on his cheek, “I don’t mind.” Sure, you had a crush on him, you could admit that much, but more simply, you loved him.

This was a small ask.

Your gaze flickers to the tips of his ears.

You had washed his blood off your hands.

“Besides, shit’s hard enough. My arm falling asleep is a small price to pay if I can help you.”

Keith’s mouth quirks up in a smile.

You laugh, “come here.”

It finally sinks in that you weren’t just talking bs. You meant it, as you hug Keith, wrapping your arms around his middle. He smelled good in spite of the battle he’d been through earlier.

Without really thinking, you breathe in the scent of him.

Keith hugs you back, cuddling you against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You yawn. “want to sneak back into the castle?”

“Only if you tell Allura you’re the one who wanted to leave,” he deadpans dazedly.

You laugh.

——————

“Come,” Allura motions as you stand from one of the Castle’s weapons systems, “we must meet with the rebel leadership on planet.”

The planet was a farming camp.

The slaves were overworked and underfed and they had still revolted when they learned Voltron was near. Now, they were free.

“Princess,” Coran calls out, “it appears that number four is heading back to the ship.”

A pained expression crosses Allura’s broad features, her full mouth frowning, before she decides to pick her battles for the day. “I am sure Keith has a good reason for his actions.” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.

You don’t want to go down there either.

This entire last week had been spent synthesizing medicine and treating thousands of people made harder by the range of species. The garrison better give you that medical degree immediately.

“I’ll go check on him,” you say automatically, “he might need me to prep a pod.”

“Fantastic idea number five,” Coran believes your excuse.

“Let us know if anything happens,” Allura says, giving you a long look, before heading for the exit.

The central Galra soldiers had been taken out, but small bands of fighters were still fighting to their last breath. It’s why Voltron has remained on the planet.

The lions had roamed the landscape answering calls for aid and hunting down the last of Zarkon’s forces here.

You meet Keith in the red lion’s hanger.

He’s popping his helmet off, running a hand through his flattened hair. “I thought you were headed out with Allura?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling awkward. “I was, but I wanted to check on you first.” That was a normal thing to do for your friends. There was no reason to overthink things.

“I’m fine.”

He sets the helmet aside, working on undoing the armor off. There was dirt and dust but thankfully no blood to speak of, his or otherwise.

“Then I’ll see you there,” you ask.

Keith looks over, a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, his smile slight when he replies, “I’m not heading there.” Blunt. Concise.

“It is depressing,” you admit. There was so much resource allocation and need planet-wide.

He raises a brow. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Keith?” Now you’re wondering what the real problem was. “What is it?”

“Does it matter. I don’t need to be there. Shiro and Allura can handle it.” He looks away, suddenly very interested in the wall. Unlike the rest of the ship, the red lion’s hanger was dim, in a permanent night cycle.

Pidge’s work.

“I think the people would like all of Voltron present.” Then you make a face, “oh god, I sound just like Allura don’t I?”

Keith laughs, “just a bit. As long as you don’t make us all meditate…”

“It’s so boring. I fall asleep.” You smile softly, “Seriously, go down for a moment. Then you can hide out here.”

“I-I’d rather not.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Four out of five is is fine.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand,” you agree.

“I’m sure they’ll be glad.”

“Keith-” you start, knowing he already felt hyper aware of how his appearance had changed. Before, it hadn’t really ever come up outside of the team. No one would tell and if Keith wasn’t vocal about it…now everyone in the entire universe probably knew.

There were rebel Galra, mostly in prisons and work camps. Feelings varied.

“That’s not true,” you say, not sure if it was true, “you helped free them.” You shift your weight onto your other foot, “there’s a few assholes everywhere.”

He gives you a long look. “The Galra enslaved all these people.”

“Pfft,” you wave off, “you look like one sixteenth Galra. And-”

“They stare.”

“Because you’re a paladin,” you reason. “Pidge is also cranky about the attention.”

Keith sighs.

The paladin armor lies in a discarded pile.

You step forward to him, “anyone would be lucky to have you as a pilot. And Voltron sort of lucked out when the red lion chose you.”

Keith’s eyes widen as he looks at you, pink dusting his cheeks.

In for a penny, in for a pound, you lean forward and kiss his cheek, ghosting over his skin, “face marks and all.” You can’t meet his gaze when you pull away, blushing fiercely.

Why did you do that!

God, you were so dumb-

He cups your cheeks and brushes his lips over yours.

Oh! Oh.

“Is-is this okay-,” Keith starts asking.

You feel giddy, smiling before kissing him. Yeah, it was okay.

#keith kogane #vld keith #keith x reader #voltron #mine #trying this agin to see if it shows up in the tags #as usual: is this any good?#was supposed to b smut but turned into fluff

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delimeful · 3 years ago

Text

hold my body down (2)

chapter 2 of this fic!

warnings: arguing, mild violence, cult mentions, mild gore mentions

Virgil stared at the man, his mind blank. What?

“That’s-- great?” Roman tried, his voice cracking in the middle with bewilderment. The human beamed, beckoning with his hand. Roman reached out and Virgil slapped his hand back, glowering at him.

“What have I said about accepting help from random friendly men?” he hissed, eyeing the stranger warily. Roman flushed, shoving him slightly, but notably didn’t try to move forward again.

The man-- Patton’s smile didn’t falter, but his hand dropped slightly. Virgil refused to feel bad. For once, he was completely sure that his level of paranoia was necessary for the situation.

“Oh, that’s okay,” Patton said, folding onto his knees to sit on the edge of the bag’s opening. “I can just explain from over here. I would come to sit in the bag with you, but last time I did that I got held hostage and Logan put a ban on interacting with terrified strangers without his direct supervision.”

“That, uh, seems rather fair,” Roman offered, still wildly out of his depth. Virgil rolled his eyes, a hand on the hilt of one of his daggers in case the stranger made any sudden moves.

“Who’s Logan?” He asked, eyes flickering up to what little he could see through the opening.

“Oh, he’s the one who rescued you!” Patton said cheerily. Virgil broke out into a cold sweat immediately.

“Rescued?” Roman echoed in disbelief. “Are you talking about the giant? Because I’m pretty sure he just abducted us against our will.”

“No, no, it’s not like that!” Patton insisted, only confirming Virgil’s theory that he was probably brainwashed and/or had Stockholm syndrome. Or both. Or a variety of other, worse options, such as yet another cult member or another giant in disguise.

“Easy, Virgil.” Roman laid a hand on his shoulder, grounding him. “Uh-- Patton, was it? If we’re not being… y’know… kidnapped and imprisoned, do you think you could back up so we can get out of the bag?”

“Of course!” Patton answered, popping back to his feet. “I’ll be right out here, take your time! I’m sure the last couple of hours have been rough.”

Virgil tried not to snort. Rough was one word for it. His amusement died a quick death when Roman began moving towards the opening. He latched onto the other man’s arm like a steel trap. “I don’t trust this.”

“You don’t trust anything,” Roman retorted automatically before softening. “It’s okay, I’m just checking to see what’s out there. Won’t even get out of the bag, on my honor.”

Virgil reluctantly followed him, grabbing onto him tightly as though he could keep anything out there from hurting him by yanking him back into the bag.

Roman ducked his head back under the cloth a moment later. “Okay. Bad news, there is absolutely a giant still out there. Good news, he’s all the way over across the room, reading a book. He is steadfastly ignoring both us and Patton, who waved at me.”

“What.” Virgil clutched at his hair. “What is going on?”

“I suspect we’ll have to ask Patton that. If we want answers, we’ll have to go get them,” He said, patting Virgil on the back encouragingly. “Don’t worry, my Dark and Stormy Knight, I’ll keep you safe.”

“My job,” Virgil grumbled, not releasing his grip on Roman’s wrist as he led the way out of the bag.

Everything was huge. He should have expected it, seeing as this was a giant’s home, but it still threw him off. They were on a huge table, in a huge living room, and the giant was indeed across the room with a huge book, pretending like they didn’t exist. From this distance, Virgil could actually take in all of him without feeling like he was going to pass out.

Patton was sitting a few feet away, and beamed at their approach. Virgil barely tore his eyes away from the giant long enough to nod distractedly at him. “Hi again! Are you guys okay?”

“We’re… fine,” Roman said, uncertain. “I think we’d just like to know what’s going on?”

“That’s totally understandable!” Patton replied, sympathetic. “I was pretty jittery after Logan first brought me here, too!”

“Oh, great,” Virgil muttered to Roman. “Serial kidnapper.”

Roman shot him a look before turning back to Patton. “He brought you here? Could I ask… why?”

“The same reason he brought you two here! I was in danger.” Patton glanced over to the giant with a fond smile before leaning in secretively. “To be honest, I think he was even more worried than I was! I was sort of stabbed at the time, though, so I guess that makes sense.”

“How were you ‘sort of stabbed’? You’re either stabbed or you’re not!” griped Virgil, who was possibly feeling more snappish than normal after one of the most stressful experiences of his life.

“My goodness, you were stabbed?” asked Roman, who had always been a sucker for a dramatic tale.

Patton tugged up the edge of his shirt, displaying a nasty-looking scar that curved around his side and stomach. In Virgil’s professional opinion, there was nothing ‘sort-of’ about a wound like that; it had been meant to kill. “Yeah, the people you met in town, they’re a cult! And they wanted to do a blood sacrifice for the monsters in the woods, and I wasn’t exactly well-liked, so…,”

“They stabbed you and left you for dead?” Virgil finished, a bit of anger leaking into his voice despite his determination not to sympathize with this guy.

“But I didn’t die!” Patton waved his hands a bit as though in celebration. “All the monsters in the woods had already been scared off when Logan moved here, and so he was the one who found me and helped me recover!”

Roman glanced over at the giant again, a speculative look in his eye that Virgil absolutely did not approve of. He scowled, his grip on Roman’s wrist tightening slightly.

“Right, and he just did this out of the goodness of his heart?” Virgil snorted dubiously. “I wouldn’t believe that from another human, let alone someone with a literally huge advantage over us. If your story is true, why didn’t the cult try to gut us? For that matter, if he’s not into human sacrifices, why wouldn’t your buddy over there just tell them to stop? Or, y’know, not kidnap us in the first place?”

“Well, hold on--,” Patton tried, but Virgil was on a roll.

“How do we know that this isn’t some elaborate setup? If he has the magical capabilities to heal a mortal wound, then wouldn’t it be easy for him to enchant a captive into believing that he’s just doing what’s best for him? Before, you said there were other people brought here-- what happened to them? Do you even know?”

Across the room, there was a sharp clap as the giant firmly snapped his book shut.

“They left,” Logan said firmly, the first words that they’d heard from him. “And if you continue to harangue my housemate, I will ask you to do the same.”

“Logan,” Patton said, a little exasperated.

Virgil felt a chill run down his spine at the sight of those huge, dark eyes locked onto him, but he plastered his best snarl on even as he dragged a protesting Roman partially behind him. “We’d be glad to leave, but someone put us on a table ten times our height!”

“Virgil,” Roman tried, but Virgil didn’t have the luxury of not paying attention to the pissed off giant in front of them.

“There’s a staircase down to your left,” the giant informed him coldly, “so if you are intent on watching your companion die from organ combustion, you have my utmost permission to leave.”

Logan!” Patton chided, a lot exasperated. He turned back to them. “He doesn’t mean it like that, I promise.”

“Really?” Virgil snapped, crowding Roman back further. “Because it sure sounds like he just outright threatened to kill us if we leave.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” Logan pinched the bridge of his nose before rising easily from his chair and reminding them all just how big he truly was. “This is why I let Patton handle the talking. I don’t know why humans always insist on making this more difficult than it needs to be.”

Virgil’s heart jumped into his throat as the giant approached, a thousand potential ways they were going to die flashing before his eyes. Behind his back, he flashed Roman a hand sign that meant ‘run for it’, and then released his friend’s wrist to draw one of his knives threateningly.

It was a pointless effort, but he’d known since setting out with his prince that one day he’d die for him.

Sure enough, the giant moved with that same uncanny speed he’d shown in the clearing, and simply grabbed Virgil’s forearm between his fingers as easily as one might scruff a cat, preventing any stabbing.

When Virgil immediately went to grab for another knife with his free hand, he found himself abruptly lifted and maneuvered, and couldn’t help letting out a startled yelp. The giant had essentially flipped him onto his front and settled one hand on his back as a weight, leaving him pinned and the giant firmly out of stabbing range.

More concerning was the fact that he could now see Roman, who hadn’t moved more than a few steps, and not just because he was a stupidly loyal, headstrong idiot. The prince seemed almost dazed, his skin shiny with sweat as he glanced between Virgil and Logan. Something was wrong. “Roman--!”

“You’re beginning to feel it, aren’t you?” Logan said, his cold tone thawing slightly as he looked down at Roman. “The cult of that town has only grown more... inventive with every cruel sacrifice they attempt. Rather than physical injuries, they’ve turned to blood curses, which has made my life exceedingly difficult.”

“Blood-- Blood curses?” Roman managed, looking more pallid by the moment.

The giant set a free hand down, palm up in offering. “I can reduce the effects. If you give me sufficient time, I can unravel the curse entirely, though brewing a countercurse will likely necessitate a drop of your blood.”

“Why go to the trouble?” Roman asked haltingly, meeting Virgil’s frantic gaze for only a moment. “What do you want in return?”

Logan sighed. “If you insist on applying such intentions to my actions, you can call it compensation. It is because of my presence that the cult continues to leave ‘offerings’, and thus your current state is my fault.”

“Then why not just do it?” Roman asked, staring at the offered hand with clear suspicion. Virgil was almost proud.

“Patton has gone to great lengths to teach me manners for interacting with smallfolk,” Logan replied dryly. “The first of which being ‘don’t grab.’”

There was a brief moment of silence as they all looked to Virgil, who was still pinned and sorely wishing he was in biting range of Logan’s hand.

“Manners don’t apply if someone is trying to stab me,” Logan added, a beat late.

Patton waved from where he was half-hidden behind Logan’s arm. “It’s true, my lessons did make an exception for stabbing!”

“Let him up,” Roman requested, his voice lacking its usual bravado. He still appeared concerningly ill. “He won’t stab you, right Virgil?”

Virgil grumbled something uncomplimentary under his breath, before sighing and going limp. “All I want is to protect my prince. If you actually mean to help him, I won’t stab you.”

“Now that stabbing is off the table, I’ve gotta say, it’s knife to meet you,” Patton chimed in, his grin audible in his voice.

“Patton, please,” Logan groaned, lifting his hand off Virgil to instead massage his temples in exasperation. “You’re going to disturb our guests.”

“Aw, are you sure? I think my jokes are stabsolutely hilarious!”

Virgil ignored the ridiculous byplay between the two of them to scramble to his feet and hurry to Roman’s side, ignoring the way Logan moved his arm slightly to be between him and Patton. “Roman, are you okay?”

“Are you? You’re the one who just got gently tenderized by Bignoramus over there for the second time today,” Roman countered, matching Virgil’s whisper.

“Fine, stupid question, clearly neither of us are okay. Are we really doing this, though? We could still run.”

“I’m… not sure we can, actually.” Roman’s hand hovered over his chest, face drawn tight with pain. “They definitely did something to me, and I doubt either of us will figure out how to fix it or get aid in time. … Look. This may be my only option, but you don’t have to--”

“Can it, Princey,” Virgil cut in, dragging a hand through Roman’s hair roughly and ignoring his resulting squawk. “Where you go, I go.”

“Even there?” Roman asked, tilting his head toward Logan’s palm somberly.

Virgil looked over to Logan, watching the attentive way he was listening to Patton speak and contributing words of his own. The giant could have done away with any of them at any point, and he hadn’t. That wasn’t enough to really trust him, it could still all be part of some scheme, but... it had to count for something.

If it was the only thing that could help Roman, Virgil could push aside his fear and his anger.

“Even there,” he answered, and led the way onwards.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides g/t #ts virgil #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #hmbd #hold my body down #g/t #my writing #writing #man its been ages since i posted the first chapter of this huh #surprise!

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years ago

Text

The Revenge

Cillian and y/n had been together for 5 years, only these last few months he'd become seriously complacent and distant. Time for a wake up call.

Warnings - smut. This was a request from @being-worthy , I hope you like it!!

7pm. 7:15pm. 7:30pm. You kept glancing at your watch, the waiter bringing you another glass of wine as you sat, positively seething at the table. The third date night in a row he'd missed, and this was made you especially mad. Your anniversary meal. 5 years to the day since he asked you to be with him, properly be with him, after 2 months of being fuck buddies on the set of Peaky Blinders. You'd bagged the job of being his umbrella girl, so spent most of your time with him, and one thing had led to another after he'd invited you in for a game of cards and a bottle of Jameson's. Strip poker became your new favourite game.

You downed the wine, paid the bill and called a taxi back to your shared apartment. Walking in, he was nowhere to be found. Locking the door, seeing his keys still on the table in the hallway, you turned your phone off and went to bed.

"Sleep on the fucking porch, dickhead."

Waking up the following morning and turning on you phone to 17 missed calls and 7 voicemails, she smiled. Deleting all of them, she slipped one of his shirts on, and made her way downstairs to hear the front door being pounded. Smiling, you opened it to see Cillian stood there with a look of pure rage.

"Morning baby, have a good evening?" You opened it allowing him to enter.

"Where the fuck were you?? I've just spent the night sleeping in the fucking car y/n, why was your phone turned off?" He barged his way in, pushing past you to get to the toilet, his bladder screaming from inside him.

"Sleeping. Battery must have died. Shouldn't have left your house keys, should you?"

"Fucks sake... I'm going to bed." He stalked upstairs, not looking at you and went to bed. Now, you were really angry.

When he came back down a couple of hours later, he was still mad at you. Wouldn't say two words to you as you sat in the living room watching TV, coffee in hand. Into the kitchen he sulked, slamming cupboard doors to make his frustration clear to you. You just smiled.

You were showered now, but still wearing his shirt, buttons done low, exposing your cleavage, with no underwater underneath. You were determined now, plan in action, he was going to suffer for this. Walking into the kitchen, you opened the fridge to get some orange juice, bending completely Dr the waist, exposing your bare backside under the shirt. You felt his eyes on you, watching you, and inwardly grinned, though he couldn't see as your hips swayed slightly as you bent further to grab the juice at the bottom of the fridge. Standing back up, you turned to face him, shirt hanging off your shoulder now exposing almost down to your bare nipple, you straightened your body to drink from the carton, then bent again to place it back in the fridge. His eyes didn't leave your body once as he sat at the breakfast bar with a slice of toast.

"You mad at me, y/n?"

"Hmm? Why would I be made at you, now Cillian?" You smiled sweetly, noticing a small drop of juice on your finger, you licked it as seductively as possible, winked and left the room. Now he was confused... And hard. You smiled, knowing exactly what effect you'd had on him and went upstairs to get ready.

"I'm meeting Orla for lunch, I'll be back by 4." You called from the stairs.

"Tell my sister I said hello, yeah?"

"Maybe." You went upstairs to get dressed, within 20minutes you were out the door.

The following morning, you woke to find Cillian in his office downstairs on his laptop. You'd avoided him most of the previous evening, making him sleep in the guest bedroom. Sure to keep him out of the bedroom you shared, you'd locked your door.

Perking your nipples slightly to harden them, you stood at his office door.

"Hey... Um..." He glanced at you at the door and had to swallow a gasp. You winked at him, before making your way back upstairs. You heard him growl slightly, close his laptop and follow you. Sadly for him, you made your way into the bathroom, and locked the door. Bath time.

Sinking your body under the water, you could hear Cillian moving around upstairs, just outside the bathroom door.

"Y/n will you tell me what it is I'm supposed to have done wrong?" He paused outside the door knocking lightly.

"Mmm.... God this bath feels nice... Warm water on my skin... Fuck I needed this..." You moaned as seductively as possible, keeping your voice just loud enough so he could hear you.

"Y/n open the door... I can make that bath even better..." His voice deepened. This was working like a dream.

"Mm.... Don't you have another appointment with your agent Cillian?" He knew he was in trouble. You never called him by his full name, it was 'Cill', 'babe', but only Cillian when he'd pissed you off. Which he'd clearly done, but had no clue as to how.

Over the course of the following fortnight, you'd kept Cillian at bay, he was still sleeping in the guest room, your bedroom door remained locked overnight (he'd tried, you'd heard him, it was fucking hysterical) while you continued to seduce and tease him mercilessly. Orla had called to say he'd even tried calling her to find out what he'd done, but good as gold, she told him she had no idea what he was talking about.

Cillian had had enough at this point. He'd even tried getting himself off at night but he couldn't do it - his hands just weren't as good as yours, it wasn't the same. He genuinely thought his balls were going to explode, the tension inside him was driving him insane. He called his sister Orla again when you went out to do the food shop, desperate this time.

"Orla I need your help please, I'm your brother... Please? Surely she's told you what it is I'm supposed to have done wrong? All I did was go out with Adam for one night and she's barely spoken to me and hasn't TOUCHED me since!"

"Woah now, that's waaaay to much info for your sister to be hearing now!" She laughed at the other end of the phone, rolling her eyes. Y/n had done very well to keep this up for two whole weeks.. maybe it was time for some sisterly advice for her older brother.

"Cillian when did you go out? What date?"

"Few days after my birthday, so the 30th May I think, why?"

"No, it wasn't the 30th. Think again. Check your dates." He put his phone on loudspeaker and checked his calendar. Then it dawned on him. Oh fuck... Oh shit... Shit shit shit!!

"The 27th.. oh fuck Orla it was the 27th.. and I'm looking at the fucking calender entry for our date night saved as a fucking DRAFT!! I didn't set it properly... Oh fuck Orla I'm a dead man, how's she not killed me?"

"I think in a way she has Cillian!! You've got some serious making up to do - not like the first time it's happened now is it?" He groaned... This would be the hat trick. Three date nights missed because he couldn't work the fucking calendar app on his new phone properly.. but that excuse wasn't going to wash now, he'd had plenty of opportunity to sort his sorry ass out. And to miss their anniversary dinner? No. He'd make this right. He thanked his sister, ended the call and opened a different app on his phone. Operation Clemency was in motion.

****************************************

You left your friends house on Friday afternoon to see Cillian's car parked outside. You could see bags on the back seat, him standing by the open passenger side door waiting for you.

"What are you doing Cillian?"

"Surprising my girlfriend. Listen y/n, I've been a fucking idiot okay? Missing our anniversary date, after missing two before that.. neglecting you, neglecting US... Let me make it up to you, yeah?" You couldn't help but smile, nodding your head you took his hand as he led you into the passenger seat, closing the door behind you.

All the way there you stole glances at one another, Cillian refusing to tell you exactly where you were going. You couldn't help the feeling of excitement - never in 5 years had he done anything like this, you'd have to make a habit of punishing him if this was the outcome..

Pulling up outside a large manor house an hour later, you gasped in shock.

"Shit.. Cill this is beautiful!"

"It's ours." You nearly had whiplash from the sudden head turn in his direction. "I bought it last month, I was waiting until your birthday next week to surprise you, but now seemed like a much better option. Welcome to our new holiday home baby." You couldn't help the tears forming in your eyes.

"Oh my god... But how? When? I don't understand!"

"All those appointments with my agent? Didn't you wonder why I wasn't getting any work from it all? I was at the bank sorting the mortgage for this place! Picked the keys up yesterday, it's fully furnished and ready for us. I figured we could spend the Summers here. Beach is less than a 5 minute walk away, the boys will love it." You were stunned. Well and truly stunned.

Leaving the car, you walked to the front door, Cillian handing you the keys. You opened it and walked inside into the most beautiful setting - it was newly decorated exactly to your liking. It was perfect. You turned to face him.

"You know, I might just forgive you after all..."

"Nope. Not yet. I'm not done." He smirked. "I want you to go upstairs - our room is second on the left. Lay down on the bed and I'll be up in 15 minutes." Raising an eyebrow, you complied, walking up the stairs eagerly anticipating what he had planned. "Fully clothed y/n... Don't remove a damn thing."

You walked in to find a large double bed with fresh sheets, covered in rose petals. Candles lined most of the hard surfaces in the room. It brought a lump to your throat. A fresh bouquet of flowers on the chest of drawers under the window, with a small envelope under them, your name written in Cillians hand writing. You opened it to find a two tickets to the new Enda Walsh play showing at the Gaiety later that week - it was sold out and you remembered telling him you were disappointed to miss it, but when you're Cillian Murphy, sold out meant nothing.

Hearing him coming up the stairs you quickly lay down on top of dozens of rose petals on the bed. He walked in slowly, casting an eye over your body. This would be the hardest thing to do now, trying to control himself, but he was determined to make this last as long as possible. Moving to the old record player in the corner of the room, he turned it on, allowing the gentle sounds of the music to fill the room softly. Making his way over to you, he kneeled on the bed, eyes never leaving yours.

"You're not to move unless I tell you to, okay? Just relax. Sit up." You sat up as he lifted your t shirt over your head, swiftly followed by your bra. Pushing you back down and turning you onto your front, he carefully sat himself across your legs, opening a small bottle of something you couldn't see. Suddenly his hands were on your back, smoothing the oil into your skin, putting pressure all over it. Closing your eyes, you relaxed into the massage as he skilfully eased away as many knots as he could find in your slender muscles.

"Fuck... Cill that feels amazing... Don't stop, please..." He bit his lip, he could feel his erection forming under his jeans and willed himself to have self control. Two weeks without touching you was a long time...

He moved his hands lower, teasing the waistband of your jeans as he moved his body down, pulling them over your hips, underwear following. Now you were completely bare, his hands now expertly rubbing hard circles over your thighs, your calves, then your feet. Your core was burning now, his touch, even after 5 years, doing things to your body you still couldn't believe we're possible. Your hips twitched slightly with the throbbing feeling you couldn't ignore deep in your groin. He could almost smell it, the need in you. Smiling, his hands moved back up your legs, dipping between your thighs and moving closer to where you desperately needed him. He grinned, and teased his fingers closer, then pulled them away. Back over your firm cheeks, up your spine slowly. You groaned, you were positively on fire now.

"Patience..." You bit your lip as he whispered in your ear. He turned you onto your back, now running his hands over your belly as he moved back to hover over your waist. Hands moving higher, he kneaded your breasts, knowing it would drive you crazy.

"Ahh... Fuck Cill... Baby please..." He chuckled, this was more fun than he anticipated, why had he never thought of this before?

Leaning down, he trailed a line of kisses long your exposed neck, your head flung back as he continued his assault on your breasts. Nipping the skin, sucking lightly, you arched against him. You felt close to an orgasm already and he hadn't even got to the good part yet. Your breath coming out in short bursts as his lips moved lower over your collarbone.

"Feel good baby? Feeling close huh? Keep those noises coming, fuck you're turning me on right now..." His voice was intoxicating, his hands roaming, now his lips, you couldn't stop the heat rising in your belly, that familiar knot forming, how was this even possible? You didn't care, and you couldn't stop it - you came hard, bucking your hips up to meet his as it overtook you.

"Fuck... Baby oh my god...." You came down from your high and looked into his eyes, now darker and desperate. He was trying so hard to control it but the control had gone. He hadn't expected you to cum from this alone, clearly he wasn't the only one who'd gone without these last 2 weeks.

"Take them off." He didn't argue. His clothes were removed quick as lightening as he opened your still quivering legs. He quickly pushed himself inside and stopped, just enjoying the feeling of your core swallowing him again.

"Jesus.. I swear you got tighter..." You raised your hands to his face and glared at him.

"Shut up, and fuck me Mr Murphy." With pleasure, he thought to himself, as he pounded into you hard and fast, both of you groaning into each others mouths as you kissed hungrily, desperate to get as physically close as possible. You rolled him onto his back, keeping him inside you, as you leaned back and rode him hard. You moved his hands to hold onto the bed frame behind him.

"You've touched me enough, it's my turn." Your hands roamed over your own breasts now, hips still rocking against his, your second orgasm fast approaching. You knew, after 2 weeks of abstinence, he wouldn't last long and you were right.

"Baby.. slow down.. I can't... Oh fuck... Ah... Feels too good..." He was raising his hips to meet yours, you felt your orgasm taking over.

"Cum baby... Need to feel you... Fill me up... Drown in me..." He couldn't hold back any longer and with a final, hard groan he came, filling you. His hands came to rest at your frozen hips, he felt your walls clench around him as you came alongside him, both of you breathing heavily as you came back down to earth from the most exquisite high either of you had ever had. Leaning your body back down to kiss his lips, you gave him one more squeeze of your walls, emitting a twitch and a gasp from him, before collapsing next to him.

"Fuck... My god Cill, I'm gonna have to punish you like this more often..."

"The fuck you are y/n, never again are we going more than 24 hours without sex, ever.. I don't care how mad you are at me.." you both laughed, curling up in each others arms, Cillian whispering how sorry he was in your ear, how much he loved you, as you gently fell asleep.

The following morning you woke to an empty bed, but you could smell coffee and breakfast being prepared downstairs. You made your way down wearing just his T shirt from the day before and found a full breakfast waiting for you. Sausages, eggs, bacon, toast, juice, croissants... All there on the countertop. A plate, cutlery and a coffee waiting for you.

"Just missing the pinny Mr Murphy..." You giggled as he turned and stuck his tongue out at you cheekily.

"Eat up and get dressed y/n, I'm taking you for a walk this morning." Smiling, you ate, and an hour later you were stood on the beautiful golden sands of the beach 5minutes from your new holiday home. Watching the waves crash, you were the happiest you'd felt in a long time. You heard Cillian behind you.

"Turn around, y/n." As you did, he took your hands in his and kissed your lips.

"If I have to spend every single day for the rest of my life saying how sorry I am, I will. If I have to spend every second making it up to you, I will. You have completed my life y/n.. after my divorce, I didn't think I'd ever be lucky enough to find love again. Then you came along and everything slotted into place. My boys adore you.. their Dad couldn't live without you.. y/n..." He sank down to the ground, reaching into his jeans pocket. Bringing a small, velvet box back up to you, your breath caught in your throat, tears already in your eyes.

"Make me the luckiest man in the world y/n.. marry me?" You fell to the floor alongside him, tears openly falling now as you cried, pulling him close, kissing him softly.

"Yes!! Oh my god a million times over, yes I'll marry you!!" You both grinned, standing now as he held out your left hand, slipping the simple, white gold band and diamond onto your finger. Nothing else mattering in that moment apart from the dreams you both shared of the amazing future you had ahead of you.

@queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @being-worthy @margoo0 @cloudofdisney

#cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x smut #cillian murphy

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even-after-a-millennia · 3 years ago

Text

Falling into a New Life

For @nilefreemanweek2021 and the alternative prompt Canon Divergent AU! Andy doesn’t get to the base in time, and Nile is on the plane to Germany and tests. When she dreams Andy calling Booker, what happens when Nile calls the same number? You can read it below or over on my ao3 account here. Gen | Rated T | ~2.1k

“Corporal Freeman,” the soldier’s voice cut through her music and brief moment of peace. “Been looking for you. Wheels up on your ride.”

“Yes, sir,” she said.

She felt a tightening in her gut, one that got worse as she flew away from base towards Germany. Towards more tests. Something was rubbing her the wrong way about all of this.

She hadn’t slept well since waking up in that hospital bed, so despite her nerves, she began to doze as the hours ticked by.

“She’s just a baby,” she heard a woman say, looking down at a sketch of Nile’s own face.

“Damn it!” A fist crashing into the side of a Humvee as a plane, the plane Nile was on right now, took off into the sky.

Numbers were being punched into the phone, then dialing. “Book, I didn’t get here in time. Word is she is being sent for more testing and you know what they will find. You have to cut them off. Get to her before they find out.”

The man closed his flip phone, turning to the other two men on the train.

“We need to get to Germany,” he said.

The plane rattled side to side and Nile woke, looking around frantically.

What was that? A dream? A vision?

She scrambled through her pockets, grabbing her notepad and writing down the numbers before she could forget them. Pulling out her phone, she looked furtively around the vast open area, but aside from her, the only other people on the plane were the two soldiers who had escorted her to the plane, sitting near the cockpit, and the pilots.

If she called this number and someone picked up, she would know she wasn’t crazy. And if no one did… then maybe it was a good thing that she was being carted off for testing.

Nile hit dial before she could stop herself.

It rang twice before a slightly accented voice answered, “Hello? Who is this?”

“What the fuck…” she whispered, pulling the phone away to stare at it. The call had connected, the seconds ticking by. She pressed it back against her ear, shaking her head slowly.

“Is this the Marine?” the man continued.

“Yeah,” she answered, her voice rough.

There was a rustle, then a different voice was speaking, “Can you tell us your name?”

A voice in the back of her mind was yelling about strangers and danger, but she didn’t think that the talks adults gave her as a child ever could have anticipated this.

“Nile,” she forced herself to say. “Corporal Nile Freeman. Who are you?”

“We’re like you, Nile,” a heavier accented voice said. “We want to help you, but first, you have to help yourself. You cannot get tested by those men. It will lead to something much worse.”

“I don’t understand,” she murmured, keeping her voice low to avoid the other soldiers hearing.

“You have to get off that plane, Nile,” the second voice said. “We will come and find you, we swear.”

“That’s insane,” she hissed.

“Welcome to the world of coming back from the dead,” the first voice said sardonically.

Holy shit.

That’s what had happened, wasn’t it? She had felt herself die. Dizzy had seen it. Everyone thought she was gone. They had even taken her dog tags to send to her family.

But then she had come back.

“Shit,” she whispered.

She looked around the plane and spotted the jump door and parachutes.

“No, this isn’t happening. This is some bullshit. Is this hazing or something? Is this fun for you?” Nile demanded.

“Nile, please,” the heavily accented voice said. There was so much emotion in his tone she stopped. “Please, you are not safe. I know you are scared and alone. But they will do horrible things if they discover you can regenerate. A jump off a plane is much better than an eternity in a cage.”

“I can’t go AWOL,” Nile said. “My family- I can’t do that to them.”

“Corporal Freeman!” One of the men who had brought her to the plane said, approaching.�� “I need to take your phone.”

She lowered it without hanging up, alarms ringing in her head. “What, why?”

“Protocol for testing. Could interfere with the machines.”

And he could be telling the truth, but the voices on the other end of the phone were getting desperate even though she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Are we that close?” she asked, buying time.

He shrugged. “Somewhere over Ukraine.”

“I’d like to give it to you closer to Germany, sir,” she said, trying to toe the line of defiance and deference.

“Orders are orders,” he said, reaching for it and this didn’t feel right, something was so wrong about this whole thing.

“NILE!” the voices on the phone shouted all at once, loud enough it reached her ear.

She ducked his grab and undid her seatbelt, sliding away from him.

He looked at her, considering. “C’mon, kid. Don’t make me break out the restraints.”

She stared at him. “What the fuck?!” she finally said, putting her phone in her back pocket. “Nah, nope. Come and get it.”

He swung at her and she ducked it and hit him in the ribs. He let out a grunt and bent over. She grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face into her knee, hearing a crack as he groaned in pain. He stayed down, clutching his nose.

“Hey!” The other guard had gotten up from his seat at the struggle and she turned to face him, trying to keep one eye on the other man.

The man took out his gun and pointed it at her. “You are under arrest for assaulting a superior officer.”

She raised her hands slowly. “In fairness, he started it,” she felt compelled to say.

He didn’t think she was funny.

“Stay still,” he said, taking a pair of cuffs out of his tac belt.

Nile looked at them apprehensively, because those were not standard to have for soldiers in her division, and so why the hell did he have them?!

She stood still, weighing her options. He holstered his gun, holding the cuffs in his other hand. She watched him until he was close enough to strike. She knocked the cuffs out of his hand and they flew down the plane. He tried to punch her but she parried it and went to dislocate his shoulder, but he kicked out and caught her in the knee. There was a crack and a searing pain, and she cried out, but kept fighting.

He drew his gun again and they grappled over it. She knew that she was losing the battle with one leg out of the game and pain fogging her mind.

His finger reached the trigger.

She felt the bullet go through her side and her whole body went momentarily numb as it was overloaded with pain. Nile fell to the ground, clutching her side.

The guard holstered his weapon and went to check on his buddy and get the cuffs. Nile breathed through the pain and then paused.

Something was going on with her leg.

She looked down as much as she could without using her stomach muscles that were still screaming and watched as her knee popped back into place, no longer inverted.

Her side started to hurt less, and she lifted her shirt to see the skin that the bullet had torn through slowly knit back together.

Regenerate. That’s what the man on the phone had called it.

Shit.

She pulled out her phone and spoke over the voices on the other side, “I’m jumping. We’re somewhere over Ukraine. I have your number.”

Then she hung up and put her phone in her zippered pocket, got up and ran at the parachutes and hit the button that opened the jump door.

“Corporal! Don’t do it!”

She looked back as she shouldered the parachute and clamped it into place. The soldiers were reaching out to her, trying to get to her in time.

Nile jumped.

She fell, waiting until she was well away from the plane to pull the pin to activate the parachute.

Nothing happened.

“Shit!” she said, trying to pull the backup, but it didn’t budge.

Had they purposefully put dud parachutes in the plane? Was this some kind of test? Or had this been a terrible coincidence?

She kept falling, spreading her arms and legs to slow her descent as much as possible. She forced herself to look down, scope out the area below her. There was a lake in the middle of a field, and she angled herself towards it, gritting her teeth. Neither option was good, but with no trees in sight to cushion her fall, she would splat either way. At least the water would eventually mask her blood.

Nile really hoped that she could actually come back from the dead, cause it didn’t look like she was going to survive this.

The water got closer and she forced her feet below her so at least she wouldn’t meet it head first. She tucked her arms close to her sides and felt herself shoot downwards faster than before.

She concluded, just before she hit the water, that any fall where she could think about how long she had been falling was too damn long.

Then everything was black.

The three men hopped off the train.

“She’s off the plane, haven’t heard anything since,” the blond said over the phone. “Said she was somewhere over Ukraine.”

The woman sighed on the other end. “Fine. We’ll meet in the middle and find her. Deal?”

“See you soon, boss,” the man said, hanging up.

“At least we will be able to keep Copley off our tail,” the man with a head of curls said.

“We will still need to go after him eventually,” the blond said. “He knows about us.”

“Nile first,” the man with the heavy accent and kind eyes said.

Nile gasped awake and immediately coughed up water. She was floating on top of the lake now, the waters around her red. She groaned as her body slowly knitted itself back together again, bones and organs recovering from hitting water so fast it felt like concrete.

“Ow,” she concluded once the last shift was done.

She turned her head, looking for the closest bit of shore, and starting off towards it.

It took a lot of effort to drag her waterlogged body onto the sand. She lay on her back, staring up at the sky for a moment.

Then she reached for her phone, only to find it cracked and even more waterlogged than she was.

“Shit!”

She pocketed it anyway, because she might still be able to recover the memory chip, even if the rest of it was worthless now.

Okay. Priorities.

Nile was still wearing her uniform, as wet and bloodstained as it was. She shucked off the long sleeve shirt of her uniform and surveyed the damage to the short sleeve brown shirt beneath. The cold water of the lake had washed away much of the blood that had been saturated in it, but she took it off and scrubbed a bit more, just to get as much as she could out.

There was still a hole where she had been shot, but she would deal with that if it came to it.

She found a large rock and tied her shirt around it.

Then paused. Rested her head against the rock and the uniform she was about to toss away.

She had been a Marine, like her dad before her. It hadn’t been an easy decision to join, not with how it had ended for her dad, the imperialism that was steeped into the US military, or the fact that she was a black woman and that would affect her entire experience. But it had been her life, her brothers and sisters in arms had been her family, and she felt like once she heaved this rock into the water, she would be irreversibly throwing that part of her life away too.

She breathed. Then she lifted the rock and with a grunt, sent it flying through the air. There was a large splash and it sank, taking her uniform with it.

Nile watched it go, her throat burning with emotions she couldn’t even name.

Then she turned to find the others who could regenerate like her.

#nile freeman #nileweek2021 #the old guard #canon divergent au #fanfic #my fic

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shurisneakers · 4 years ago

Text

shut in [10]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, anxiety, ptsd, shooting, abuse

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: double digit chapter!!! like 3 parts to go everyoneeee woo!!

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

The nostalgia was strong.

The last time you and Sam were sitting like this, you were deciding on what to make of the bread supply that was now dwindling. The soup had ran out maybe a day or two ago and you were left with just bread, peanut butter and jelly.

You two had to devise an escape plan. You’d been there long enough and now with Sam making his first public appearance as Mob’s Most Wanted, even if it was for a good cause, there was no doubt that people would be after you.

“What if we go back to Ransone and let the rest sort itself out along the way?”

You made a note of it on the paper but you weren’t very convinced with the idea, not with the realisations you had made along the way.

“Do we know any other hideouts?” you asked instead, tapping the pencil against the paper.

“None that you don’t already know.” He chewed on his lip thoughtfully. “What are your thoughts on caves? Think we can make a bed outta some leaves?”

You wrote down ‘Sam’s cave idea’, just to humour him. Stupid, but more plausible than other options.

“If we make a run for it, what are the chances we’ll survive?”

“With law enforcement, civilians and gang members looking for us, I’d give us about-” you said candidly, “-two months. Three max.”

It wasn’t like you had no experience running from the state, but it was never on this scale.

“We’d have years if it was only law enforcement, but we had to go get the entire fuckin’ mafia involved,” he huffed in annoyance.

An idea occurred to you that made you pause, but you hated it.

“What if we split up?” you suggested halfheartedly. “It’ll take them more time to find the both of us, if they’re looking for us together.”

When he didn’t reply, you looked up at him from the sheet in front of you.

“We’re not splitting up,” he began steadily, just as you knew he would. “The same people who are after you are after me. We need to stick together.”

“I know. I’m not saying we can’t meet again after that, I’m saying that maybe it’ll be easier for us to hide.”

He couldn’t deny that it wasn't the worst idea, but something didn’t sit right with him. He didn’t want to do it.

“Okay, then how do we find each other after that? When? I don’t have your email; fuck that, I don’t even have your number.”

“We’ll schedule it, I guess,” you murmur, trying to work out the logistics. “Whoever gets there late has to buy ice cream. And I’m particular about the flavour I like.”

You tried to lighten up the mood but he wasn’t having it, as much as he appreciated it.

“I don’t care if it’s more difficult,” he said slowly. “But I’d like us to stick together. Not until we’re out of this mess. Then if you want to never see my face again, which you shouldn’t because it’s beautiful, we’ll go our different ways.”

He was adamant about it, and you knew he’d argue and poke holes into the plan until it didn’t make sense anymore. You weren’t going to argue.

“Okay,” you accepted. “We stick together.”

A smile spread across his face which equated to one of triumph. “You got any other ideas?”

“We stay right here and fight off whoever comes.”

It was dumb. This place wasn’t yours, and staying here would be a death wish. That didn’t stop you from saying it since neither of you were holding back on implausible ideas.

“This is our house now,” Sam added with determination, playing along.

“Damn right,” you affirmed, cracking a smile at him.

Bringing your attention back, you stared at the list. There is one option you wanted to explore but you weren’t sure if you could because you didn’t have the resources. But he may.

“You got any friends whose help we could use?” you asked cautiously, unsure of how this would play out.

He continued chewing on his lip for a second like he was analysing all options, before nodding.

“I got a friend. Well, my only friend,” he corrects himself. “His name’s Riley.”

“He got a place we can stay, this Riley?”

“He does. But I don’t want to involve him. He’s-” he paused, trying to find the right words to frame what he’s thinking “-he’s been through a lot.”

“We’ll leave him alone then,” you assured, realising that it must be a touchy topic for him.

Sam didn’t move on, though.

“I’m all ears if you want to talk,” you offered.

He pressed his lips together, giving you a tight smile. He looked like he wanted to say more but was holding back. You reciprocated, hoping it would give him some reassurance, noting how he exhaled softly.

“When I joined the cartel, I didn’t really have anyone to talk to since everyone was much older than I was. Riley was the first friend I made. He was a mouthy li’l one.” Sam smiled wistfully and you found yourself smiling with him. “He talked so much shit and he had the spunk to back it up but he never really got that far because no one wanted to test their luck with him.”

“We spent whatever free time we had together. He didn’t have a family so he and I-” he trailed off but you knew what he was getting at. “Ransone found out. Didn’t like anyone in his stupid squad becoming all buddies because if we turned against him, he knew he’d lose.”

Shared experience. You didn’t have any friends in the organization either; they were always separated from you willingly or by force. You wondered if that’s why you had taken such a liking towards Sam, knowing fully well that it was the first time in years you were able to be friends with someone without having to worry.

“He started pittin’ us against one another. Combat training, preferential treatment, just plain out sabotage. Riley’s the reason my back’s all kinds of fucked up.” He gave a short laugh. “Tried everything he could to make sure we’d stay away or even kill each other if it came to that.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But we didn’t,” he confirmed. “Ransone fuckin’ hated it, so one day, he decided that he’s going to finish it once and for all. Sent us on a fake mission so that we’d be alone together, then told us that only one of us could come back. One of us had to die or else both of us would. Some sick fuckin’ form of entertainment.”

It was exactly something that Ransone would do. Dramatic, vile and utterly despicable, just for his own joy,

Your eyebrows knit together when his eyes glazed over.

“Riley, he- he didn’t even let me have at the gun. Just straight up chose for the both of us that he was going to be the one who died. He was so tired, of everythin’.” The muscles in your jaw tightened at where this was going. “He didn’t do it though. We figured out another way.”

You didn’t realise how tensed you were until you forced yourself to relax.

“Faked his death.” He shrugged. “It was the only way. Let Ransone believe he bled out and that I buried him behind the warehouse he sent us to. Shot him in the leg to make it look convincing. He’s still got a limp.”

“He made a run for it. Found himself a place in New Orleans, changed his identity, basically made turned into a whole new person. Ransone bought it for a while because I’d make it a point to visit the grave, leave some flowers and shit. Told him that if he messed with it that I’d put a bullet in his head and I was angry enough for him to see that I wasn’t kidding. I knew he’d figure it out eventually but I was hoping I’d get rid of him by then.”

“He lived in New Orleans for years. Never had a problem until recently.”

Sam paused for a second, but it gave you the time to pull up an old conversation you had with him.

“He’s the one Ransone threatened you with,” you connected the dots. “He’s the one he found.”

“Said he’d kill him if I didn’t take out Pierce for him,” his words were bitter, confirming what you said. “Sent me a picture of him in front of his house to prove it.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” you breathed, leaning back. Sam’s situation was more dangerous than you initially thought. Having Riley in the picture just made it more difficult to help Sam get out of the organization, especially since he was now leverage material.

“You asked me once what the scariest thing I had done was.” You didn’t get immediately what he was talking about until you remember the questions you had asked to get to know him better. “It was that. Getting him out of this life and trying not to get caught in the process.”

You didn’t know what to say.

“He’s the only family I got left.” The way his voice dropped made him sound so tired. “He’s already on their radar. If they find out I’m staying with him or that he’s helping in any way, they’ll kill him.”

You didn’t say anything, not like you had anything constructive to offer at that moment.

“That got dark real quick,” he remarked, the corners of his lips quirking upward.

Clearly he didn’t have anyone to talk to about this. To explain the entire thing from the beginning must have drained him completely.

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that,” you said quietly.

He paused for a second, looking like he was thinking to himself.

“Me too.”

______

The sky’s beautiful, you decide.

You could stare at the clouds for hours.

Which is what the both of you have been doing.

“If you fucking say it’s anything other than a dog, I’ll push you off the roof myself.”

“It’s clearly a penguin, Samuel.”

“I hate you.”

The cement was cool against your skin even though there was a blanket serving as a mediator between you and it. The sun nipped at your skin and your back was aching from staying in the same place for a prolonged period.

Sam tended to think better when he was outside, unconstrained by harsh white walls and artificial light. So you grabbed a spare blanket, a bottle of water and the ladder to haul the both of you to the roof. It was filthy, as you expected but you managed to tidy a part of it to the best of your ability before laying the blanket down.

“I know why you brought me up here, Y/N,” he piped up.

You just knew that when you needed some space, he often implored you to go outside. You figured the best way to help him was to do the same, not knowing what else you could have to give.

“Just wanted to let you know that I appreciate it,” he added.

Okay good. It helped.

“That’s a tree.” You pointed upwards, avoiding his gaze.

“You get three more seconds to change that answer to a table.”

“That looks nothing like a table. You’re delusional.”

He laughed, not offering a counter argument.

The outside did him good. He was calmer than when you first came here a few hours ago. He didn’t let his spite towards Ransone show very often, especially at this volume. Talking about Riley only reaffirmed how much he despised the man.

“We need to get out of here eventually, you know?” you mused.

You don’t want to. You don’t want to admit that saying it out loud made it worse.

“We do,” he sounded sure and you wondered if he ever felt bad about it too, “but we need a proper plan.”

The clouds shifted. It looked like a kid on a bike; not that you’d ever tell him. He would never agree.

“We need help,” you stated.

“We can’t.” You knew he’d say that.

“You know we do, Sam.”

“There’s no one out there we can trust.”

You liked that he used ‘we’. The only other times you had been referred to as ‘we’ had been for things so sinister, so violent.

His elbow was touching yours lightly. You wanted to move closer, press against him.

“There’s one person who might be able to.”

He turned to look at you questioningly. You did the same.

You waited till he figured it out on his own. His face shifted the minute it clicked in his head.

“No way.” He turned away, almost laughing out of bewilderment.

“It’s our only option.”

“Then we’ll find another one,” he began to sound more insistent, realising you were being serious. It was a crazy idea, you’d give him that, but it’s the only one you had that had a sure shot of working.

“We’ve tried. You’ve tried. There’s only one way,” you knew that getting annoyed wouldn’t get through to him and you also understood his hesitations. “He’ll help.”

“We don’t know that. It’s too fuckin’ dangerous.” He couldn’t afford that; not this late in the game.

“I know it. Lis- Sam. Look at me,” you commanded gently, and he obeyed reluctantly. “I understand that this is absolutely batshit wild, but I promised I’d help you. This is the only way I can think of. But I need you to trust me.”

He looked unsettled.

He didn’t have anything to go on. Only your word and his faith in you. He could say no and he knew you’d spend countless hours pouring over multiple options just to find another way. He could say no and you’d take it in stride and he wouldn’t have to worry about it. It wasn’t about trusting you, it was about not trusting the others.

But he could also say yes and let you take control, trust your instincts. You had never let him down before and he knew you wouldn’t now. He could say yes and help you work on one solid plan that had equal chances of failing as it did being a success, but it was something that you could be sure of.

“I’ll tell you this though, Sam. You always have a choice.”

He felt your fingers trace at his face patiently. He scooted closer, letting your bodies press gently against each other.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I trust you.”

He didn’t know if he made the right choice or not, but the smile that appeared on your face made him think that maybe he did.

God, he was done for.

___

“You ready?” you asked him.

“No, but what the hell; let’s do it.”

You let it ring right to the very end.

“Hello.” It seemed gratuitous at this point because you knew the conversation wouldn’t proceed with that.

“Code?”

“1993.”

“Y/N. Hello,” his voice came back loud and clear.

“Hey.” You snuck a glance at Sam. He was completely stiff.

“How are you?”

“I’ve been… good,” you admitted.

“Oh?” he sounded amused. “That’s a change.”

“Yeah.” You shifted on your feet awkwardly. “Listen, I need help.”

“Help with?”

“We need to get out of here. We can’t do it without you. I mean we can, but it’d be better if you lent a hand.”

“When you say ‘we’, you’re referring to…”

“Me.” Sam stepped forward towards the phone. You shifted it so it was between you.

“Oh, hello,” he sounded surprised, and he had good reason to be. “You know about-”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Y/N, you trust him?”

“Yeah,” you looked up at Sam, “I do.”

“Alright. If shit goes wrong, you’re both fucked. I’m not taking any responsibility.”

“We get that,” you sighed. “Can you help or not?”

There was a momentary silence on the other end as he thought.

“Tell me what you had in mind.”

“We got a hit.”

They turned away from their conversation with the person walking beside them at the interruption.

“This better be important.” They gestured to their companion who looked annoyed at being interrupted. He was too dangerous to have on anyone’s bad side but the agent didn’t care. This was crucial.

“Someone saw him. Wilson.” He was breathless from the flight of stairs he had run to come upstairs.

“Where?” They could hardly believe their ears, restraining to contain the excitement that was threatening to rise.

“A town, miles away from Pierce’s place. Said he roamed around looking for a store, bought some food and then left.” His eyes shone. “We think we might know where they are. A rough sketch at least. Couldn’t follow him too far because he kept checking.”

“Finally,” their face gleamed, completely discarding the guest they had and the confusion on his face. “Some good fucking news.”

“Do you want us to put a hit out on them?” The relief the agent felt was almost overwhelming. His partner may have died but it didn’t look like he was going to.

“No,” they said crisply, certainly. “This one’s on me.”

Next part

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nakamoto-aesthetics · 4 years ago

Text

Guardian Angel | Johnny

synopsis: on the way from a friends house you bump into a man who was trying to harm you but luckily a guy named johnny saves you before you were taken. from there you get to know him a bit and things get… interesting. (the synopsis makes the story sound boing but i promise it’s not :)

pairing: johnny suh x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, a lil smut

warning: something similar to human trafficking in the beginning (if you’re sensitive to that topic please don’t read this fic), heavy make out shesh, not proofread!, other than that there’s nothing i can think of

a/n: also remember that this is a FIC and not real life, please don’t welcome strangers into your home :))

word count: 4.1k

“where do you think you’re going in that cute little dress baby?” an unfamiliar voice is heard as you walk down the fairly dark street. you don’t say anything and continue to walk not paying any attention to the voice. there was no one else really around, barely any cars passing by, let alone people.

“I asked you a question, I expect an answer” the tone was firm, his footsteps getting faster and so do yours. you hurriedly pull out your phone, quickly forming a plan that involved some of your friends but that all crashed and burned once you saw the dead battery flashing on the screen. your heart sink and tears instantly pooled in your eyes, threatening to fall from your eyes. that was your only escape, what were you gonna do now?

you were just trying to get home that was all. maybe you should’ve let your friend drive you home but you didn’t because you didn’t want to cause your friend an inconvenience. you were beginning to regret that decision, all because of that small reason. at least you would’ve been home safe and sound but no, you decided to be the unselfish and independent person you are, and look where it got you.

“hey!” a hand grips your shoulder from behind and swings you around. “I asked you a question when I ask a question I expect an answer” the guy wasn’t a foreigner, he was most definitely korean. he seemed to be in his mid-30s, the age definitely showed. there were creases and wrinkles in some areas of his face and his clothes were all black including his shoes. you try to pull away from the grip but he only grips your shoulder harder, hurting you more than you would like to admit.

“maybe I need to refresh your short memory,” the guy chuckles lowly, his finger shifting your head up to meet his eyes. “where are you going in that cute little dress?” his eyes looked you up and down, his free hand gliding down your waist, slowly traveling to your ass. your face stayed straight the entire time even while tears fell down your face. you knew who had the upper hand power in the situation, you knew there was little you could do even if you didn’t dare say it aloud.

“still not talking? well maybe I should force it out of you huh?” he tilts his head. no, because the whole time you were creating a plan b in your head since plan a failed. there was no way you were going to allow yourself to be trafficked.

“well then, you made this choice for yourself. i’m sorry to do this sweetheart” his hands grope your ass and that's when you strike. you move your leg up to kick him in the balls but he’s faster than you, grabbing ahold of your leg before it collided with his area.

“is that what you were doing this whole time, creating that wack-ass plan? you didn’t think i’d see it coming that’s so cute,” he fake coos. “i’ve been doing this longer than you, i’m smarter and faster than you love” he throws down your leg and in the blink of an eye, you are turned around in his grip with an arm around your neck. your hand flies to his arm and you pull on it, not wanting to be choked to death.

“is there a problem over here miss?” another unfamiliar voice calls, making both you and the guy look over to where it came from. it was a tall guy with light brown hair. he had tan skin and different pieces of clothing put together that oddly worked. his eyes were a soft brown, not too harsh. he was… kinda cute if you were being honest. he was also In the process of taking his headphones out of his ears, for what reason? you didn’t know.

“there’s no problem here, keep on walking buddy” the male answered for you.

“I asked the lady not you” the new stranger spoke harshly to the trafficker and look at you once again. “are you okay?” he knitted his eyebrows. your eyes caught his, filling with tears, threatening to spill from your eyes. he nodded softly understanding how you were feeling through your eyes. he then looked at the male behind you.

“let her go, I don’t wanna hurt you” he said firmly.

“oh yeah, what can you do?” he looks him up and down and laughs at the guy, walking back to his original place, which was a block or two away.

“Im can do a lot” the stranger walks in front of you and the guy, making you both stop once again.

“listen man, this is my girlfriend. we’re just having a little disagreement aren’t we honey?” the guy tightens his hold around your neck. you open your mouth trying to suck in more air but his hold gets tighter. you tap on his arm in hopes that he’ll release you but he doesn’t. there was no way you were gonna agree with him.

the stranger doesn’t think furthermore and before either of you knew it, your head was being moved out the way carefully and a punch was thrown at the guy's face. you heard a crack of a bone and quickly moved away from the area, running out the man's hold.

it was like an action movie, the man was the villain and the stranger was the hero, and you were the one in need of help. the fight ended with the stranger still standing and the man now on the floor. he wasn’t moving but his chest was still rising and falling. he wasn’t dead although you weren’t sure what was gonna happen in the next few minutes but you weren’t gonna find out either.

“are you okay?” the stranger rushes over to you, sliding off his jacket and handing it to you.

“that won’t be necessary” you chuckle and wave your hand at his jacket.

“please, I insist” he places the jacket around you, not wanted to make you feel uncomfortable by touching you.

“thank you” you look down and smile softly.

“it’s no problem, I could never just walk by if I saw something like that” he smiles gently. “do you want me to walk you home? you know, to make sure you get there safe?”

“uhh… why not” you smile and begin to walk in the direction, he comes up beside you and walks along with you.

you pulled his jacket closer to your body for warmth as you kept your eyes glued to the sidewalk, scarred by what had just happened. you’ve never experienced something that traumatic before. you could’ve been snatched up a while ago if it hadn’t been for the guy walking beside you right now.

“thank you” your voice was quiet in a way it had never been before.

“anytime” he glances over to you, seeing your small frame wrapped in his jacket.

“I really do mean it, if you wouldn’t have been there I don’t know what I would've done”

“yeah, i’m glad I was there too. it hurts me to see things like that happen” he shakes his head. “I wish I could protect everyone around the world,” he breathily laughs. “that’s probably why I want to be a police officer” your ears perked up when you heard that. you looked up at him with surprised eyes and he looked at you nodding his head.

“it’s always been a dream of mine ever since I was a kid. when I read my first comic book I loved everything about it, I knew I wanted to be some kind of hero after that. I wanted my parents to buy me every single superhero costume so then I could feel like that character, with all the powers and stuff.” you breathily laugh at that, he notices and laughs with you. “anyways that’s enough about me, I wanna know about you” he looks attentively to you.

the conversation continues until you got home. you learned that his name was johnny and that he was 25. he grew up in his hometown chicago but his parents are both korean, and he moved to seoul for better job opportunities. you gotta admit, the guy was interesting and you wanted to know more about him, you thought he was pretty cool.

“so… this is it?” johnny stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks up at the house.

“yep” you look at the house and back to him. it got quiet for a few seconds, neither of you wanted to say bye to each other. johnny wanted to get to know you more and you wanted to know him more also.

“listen, I don’t know if the feeling is mutual but I wanna talk to you some more so how about this, I give my number and you get to choose if you want to text me” he offers and you instantly take it up. he smiles softly and enters his number in your phone. once you receive it back you see the name option blank.

“you’re not gonna name yourself?” you cock your eyebrow at him and he lightheartedly chuckles.

“I want you to have free will and set it as whatever you want. I want you to always feel like you have a choice when you're with me y/n” a smile was blatant on his face, allowing the corners of your mouth to pull up also.

“well thank you very much johnny,” you say, staring into his eyes, which seemed to catch the light from the streetlights in a way you’d never seen before. would it be weird to say that you wanted to get to know the sweet guy in front of you more?

“um.. i guess i should get going, it was nice meeting you y/n” his hypnotizing but kind eyes still staring into your soul. you never wanted to part away from them, from him. johnny was captivating, too captivating to let slip through your fingers.

“it was nice meeting you too. see you later johnny” you dismiss him yet his feet don’t move, they stay in place and so does he, looking at you with eyes of fondness. this continues for about a minute before you break the silence/slight sexual tension.

“uh- actually, do you wanna come in? i’m not going to sleep right away, honestly might have some trouble falling asleep” you shake your head, looking down and pretend to find your nails interesting.

“a-are you sure? i wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable-” he seems caught off guard by your words, obviously snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.

“not at all, now come on. i’ll put on a movie and get some food and drinks. it’ll be good” you smile brightly, grabbing his hand without thinking and taking him up to your front door. you unlock it quickly and turn on the lights, stepping into your clean house.

“this is a very nice environment you have y/n” he looks around staying still in his place, nodding his head, seeming genuinely impressed with it.

“thank you, it took a bit of work to get to this point” you chuckle, taking off your shoes and then his jacket. “oh, here you go” you hold the piece of heavy fabric out to him. he utters a ‘thanks’ once he sees it and takes it.

“you can put your shoes there” you point to the shoe rack beside to door. “and your jacket can go there” you point to the coat racket right next to the shoe rack. he doesn’t say anything and does as you say.

“now make yourself comfortable i’ll be right back” you point to the couch and then walk away but not before you caught his eyes. damn those eyes..

“now why did she do that? i swear horror movie characters are so fucking dumb” you roll your eyes and johnny laughs, agreeing with you.

“i mean what would you do in her position” you look at him. the light from the tv illuminating him perfectly. it was dark everywhere else so the only light you had was from the tv.

“i would’ve saved the friend and then booked it not stand there like an idiot waiting for someone to kill me” he looked at you right back, giving you that same look from earlier but his eyes were a bit brighter, filled with joy.

“exactly! so why can’t she do the same?” you sigh.

“y/n it’s just a movie” he chuckles.

“i know, i know but they really irritate me yk? like why stand there knowing damn well a killer is in the house with you i mean it’s-“

“alright it’s time to turn this off” he backs out of the movie, returning to the netflix screen where you started.

“hey!” you look at him with confused eyes.

“you were way too into it, it‘s not good for your blood pressure.” he says and looks at the tv, going through the comedy section.

you kept your eyes on him watching the way his eyes watch the screen attentively. you nibble on your lip, beginning to get lost in your thoughts. he could be your friend, best friend, boyfriend... husband- too far y/n, too far. you just met the guy but you felt like you’ve known him for a long time. you could see him being a potential boyfriend honestly. it’s been a while since you’ve had a boyfriend, really only focused on work. it wouldn’t be a bad idea. johnny seemed nice and he was interesting in a way nobody has been before, you could stay up talking to him and it wouldn’t get boring ever. what if you guys-

“y/n?” his head turns toward you and he catches you staring back at him with your lip between your teeth. he smiles softly and that’s when you are dragged out of your thoughts.

“here” you say out of nowhere making johnny laugh harder than before, his head is thrown back and his eyes are closed, filling the atmosphere with his beautiful laughs. meanwhile, you sat there a little confused and startled, blinking multiple times.

“huh?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“nothing” he waves his hands continuing to laugh.

“yah!” you hit his arm playfully. “i was lost in my thoughts im sorry” you look down feeling your cheeks heat up.

“while staring at me? what were you thinking about?” he says after his laughter dies down.

“uh.. nothing important, what did you pick?” you look at the tv trying to change the subject and you’re thankful that it works.

“that was a great movie, what’d you think?” johnny looks over to you and you nod tiredly, letting out a yawn. “oh somebody’s tired” he says and you don’t know if it was because you were tired but you thought it was cute.

“i enjoyed it and yes i am tired” you lazily chuckle and rub your face.

“alright, i’ll leave-“ he goes to stand up.

“no-“ you say abruptly and grab his wrist and his eyes shift down to your hold on him. “i mean… no you don’t have to, it’s late and i don’t want you going home at this time of night” you checked your phone with your free hand, completely forgetting about your grip on his wrist.

‘4:08 am’

“damn it’s four already?” your eyes bulge out your head and look up at him, his eyes still watching the way your skin was touching his. “you mister aren’t going anywhere, wouldn’t want anything to happen to you” you move closer to him and he notices this. you take your hand off his wrist and interlock your arms, resting your head on his shoulder. maybe it was the sleepiness that put you in this position but you didn’t mind it one bit, too tired to care.

he seemed surprised tensing up almost immediately but relaxing once he realized what was really happening. you were like the little bear that found comfort in the big bear. johnny brushed the extra pieces of hair out the way, how was it that he’d just met you but he felt so connected to you as if you were a lifelong friend he hadn’t seen in a long time. he didn’t under but at the same time, he didn’t want to understand it. he’d rather just let whatever this was flow at its own pace.

“do you think we’re moving too fast?” you say out of nowhere, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“i was just thinking about that and i think we should just let it happen naturally. whatever happens, happens” he says in a sweet voice and caresses your arm gently with his free hand. “if it feels right then act on it right? anyways, that’s the motto”

you move your head to look up at him and nod, intending to catch his eyes and you do. you’re only inches away from each other’s faces, eyes shifting from his eyes to his lips and so do his before either of you knew it your lips collided. johnny holding your jaw between his index and thumb. you wrap your hands around his neck and sit up slowly shifting onto his lap. your heart began to race as you kissed him deeper, johnny too, feeling his heart pumping with adrenaline, moving his hands down to your waist and gripping it. you moan softly against his lips as his hands travel inside your shirt. he felt like pure ecstasy against you. his touch, his lips, his words, everything him felt so good with you.

his hands then slid down to your hips and he gripped them, continuing to kiss you like no tomorrow. he pulls away from your lips, you following his lips for more, and he chuckles; before you knew it his lips were on your neck, pressing soft kisses to it making you moan softly. when his lips found your sweet spot he attacked it, leaving a dark red hickey in that place. you began to move your hips against his, hungry for some type of stimulation down there. his hands fly to your hips and he rests his head in the crook of your neck, letting out soft grunts.

you bite your lip and pull him up to kiss his neck, one of his hands rest on your shoulder. once you find his sweet spot you do as he did and leave a dark red hickey. you pull back and look at it proudly.

“an eye for an eye” you wink at him.

“yeah, yeah” he smiles and pulls your face closer, kissing you again, this time using a bit of tongue. you moan instantly, letting him win and he explores your mouth as your hands glide down his chest, you could feel all of the contours and lines of his muscles and abs, letting you know he was fit. which only made him sexier. your hands slip under his shirt and you explore the area. he was too hot for you to handle, you could pounce on him again even though you kind of already pounced on him. he’s just too hot.

you pulled away abruptly and he looked at you with a confused expression. you smirked and stood up, him still looking at you, obviously confused. he reached for your wrist but you pulled it away and before he could say anything, with the help of his thighs you got on your knees. his confused expression was now gone as he watched the scene unfold, his jeans were so tight against him and you knew that. his hard-on wasn’t small either, it was actually pretty big, you could still see his print though it was dark and you wanted to help him out so you teased him by gliding your fingers up his thighs and then teased his dick by running your finger up and down his hard-on.

“stop t-teasing” he breathily moans, watching your every move.

you smirked, looking up at him and unzipped his jeans.

did you guys fuck? no. just oral sex, that was all you guys agreed to. johnny thought it would be a bad idea to have sex during the initial meet. he said it would be best to give it at least a few weeks. he truly did wanna get to know you some more as did you and that’s why you were okay with not going that far.

you slept in your room after you guys were done giving each other head. you’d given him a blanket to sleep with and a comfortable pillow instead of making him use one of the uncomfortable decor ones on your couch.

“thank you johnny,” you said as he grabbed his coat. you let him stay for breakfast, that you and him cooked together. (he wasn’t going to let you cook it by yourself)

“for what? i should be thanking you. i had fun” he says as he puts his coat on.

“because i had fun too. the most i’ve had in a long time so thank you for that”

“it’s nothing really, i’m glad i could reflect some light on” he laughs and slips his shoes on.

“i hope we could do that again” you hint your fondness toward him.

“of course we can you just gotta let me know. i’m always free” he looks at you with that look once again and you can’t help but let it slip out.

“why do you keep looking at me like that, you’ve been giving me the same look since you met me” you say softly so then it doesn’t one out harsh and you know it doesn’t when he responds.

“because...” he moves closer to you which makes your heart skip a beat. “i actually like you y/n, and i mean it. you’re so different from other girls i’ve met. i’m not just another handsome guy to you. you take an interest in the things i say and the stories i tell you, not many girls do and i thank you for that alone. thank you for listening to me.” he moves even closer to you, grabbing your hands which makes your heart begin to race. “so when i look at you like this, i’m thanking you.” he doesn’t say anything after that continuing to stare deeply into your eyes.

you felt so drunk in the moment, hypnotized by his eyes and soft words. you could already feel how head over heels you were gonna be for this guy, that's if you guys kept it up, which you think you will. the chemistry was way too strong for either of you to let go of.

“thank you” you whisper and he nods gently not breaking eye contact. “you should get going, i wouldn’t want you to be late for work. you still gotta get home in time to change out of these clothes... do you need a ride or?”

“kind of... only if it’s not too much trouble” he answers.

“of course it’s not, come on” you quickly get your stuff on and take him home.

“this is it” he says and you stop the car once you’re in front of the house.

“okay, i’ll see you later” you look over to him and he’s already looking at you. nothing happens for a few seconds but then johnny leans over to you and kisses you. you sigh into the kiss and grab ahold of his neck and kiss him back as his hand rests on your neck, he kisses you just as deep as last night but before anything serious happens he pulls away and lets a ‘text me’ roll of his tongue before he exits the vehicle and walks to his front door, unlocking it and walking inside. all without looking back.

you however, were in complete awe. he kissed you like that and then left. damn was he a good kisser, you could still feel the sensation of his lips on yours even after he was gone. you touched your lips and then smiled, pulling off.

bonus: later that day; the evening

you decide to pick up your phone and do exactly what he said earlier.

you: what was that all about earlier? - y/n

johnny🥰😫: so you decided to finally text me😊

johnny🥰😫: and what was what about👀

you: you know what i talking about. the kiss in the car

johnny🥰😫: you know, it was just a see you later kiss

you: mhm, okay mr. suh

johnny🥰😫: what?😂

you: imma give your ass a ‘see you later’ kiss and then walk away. see how it makes you feel

johnny🥰😫: bring it on then sexy, let’s see what you got

you: oh i’ll show you what i got👀

johnny🥰😫: are we still talking about kissing?😳

you: maybe, maybe not🤷‍♀️👀

NCT Masterlist

237 notes · View notes

cazimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Oblivious

Request from anon: Hi, I really enjoy your writing, particularly your Zemo fics! I had an idea for one that basically follows the while y/n joining Sam, Bucky, and Zemo through Madirpoor and Riga. Only despite Zemo’s flirting, y/n doesn’t really do anything about it or even notice until y/n along with Sam and Bucky witness Walker (New Captian America) murder a flag smasher in the street. They all go back to the safe house and y/n is like, in shock. “Captian America just killed someone” is all y/n can really say. And Zemo is able to calm them down. Maybe the romance can start then?

Word count: 3.4k

Author’s note: This one-shot can be multiple parts, if you would like to see a sequel please say! If I do decide to write a sequel though it will take me a while as I’ve had a lot of requests, please check out my master list to see what I have coming up next and if requests are currently open or not

Masterlist

(Please check out my master list to see what I will be writing next and if requests are open or closed)

Cross-posted to ao3 under the same username

Heels clicked along the pavement as you sashayed along the road, approaching the men before you, two of which you know fondly. The other one, however... not so much.

They all stood close together in a circle, obviously discussing something important but at hearing your voice call out their heads turn towards you, a smile appearing on Sam and Bucky’s faces as they see you. “Long time no see boys,” you say, stopping a few feet away from them to lean on a wall.

They both walk over to you, Bucky pulling you into and hug then followed by Sam hugging you tightly. “Thank you for agreeing to help us out y/n. I know things haven’t been easy for you,”

You fake a smile at Bucky, one you hoped he wouldn’t see past resting your arm around his shoulder. “Anything for my friends,”

He was right, though. These times haven’t been easy for you, especially after Steve Rodgers left. Captain America had always been your idol, ever since you were a little kid you aspired to be just like him. You collected all the Captain America merchandise along with your brother Phil, always arguing with him who owned which toy of his. Meeting Steve had been a dream come true for you. He was the person you were closest to. He helped you come to terms with your brother’s death and whenever you needed help; he was there. You two stuck together through the thick and thin. That’s was how you got to become good friends with Sam and Bucky. You and Steve have always had a complicated relationship, though. You two liked each other and tried to see if you could be something more, but it never seemed to work out. Then Thanos happened. You, along with half the universe, were dusted. For you it was as if you had simply blinked however for Steve it was five years without you. You barely got to see each other again before he went away for good. You couldn’t hate him for it, you understood why he did what he did. He was always telling you about the ’40s, about his childhood, about her. You just wished you weren’t so connected with him. Seeing him there, old, dying. It broke your heart. But times move on. You can’t live in the past as he did.

Your eyes focus on the man behind Sam and Bucky and you frown, pulling your arm away from Bucky. A man you never thought you would see again was staring right back at you.

He stood a few feet back, knowing he wasn’t welcomed in the warm reunion of friendship. He clasped his hands, unsure what exactly he should do right now, feeling awkward, but as he looked over at you his eyes twinkled with recognition. Now you had been interesting to him. You weren’t a super soldier like Steve and James. Yet you certainly could hold your own against them. He had seen when he had first activated James. No, your strength and fighting abilities were down to your own human powers and he admired that. You were one of the few avengers he might have had an inkling to like if the Sokovia attack never happened. Still, it wasn’t as if you were to blame for it. The people who were to blame had suffered for it. You were merely the pawn in the giant game of chess. Perhaps he could grow to like you, after all, he could admit you were certainly tempting to him, the way your body was shaped excited him, the way your neck was shaped made him want to brush his fingers along it and your piercing eyes felt like they could look into the darkest corners of his soul.

“Why is he out of prison?” you snap, bringing Zemo out of his trance

Sam turns to scowl at Bucky as you all turn to Zemo, who awkwardly smiles. “Bucky thinks we need him,” Sam mutters

“Why would we need him!” you exclaim, crossing your arms and shooting Bucky a glare.

“I am invaluable,” Zemo explains with his hands, his eyes unwavering from you as he answers for Bucky.

“He hates super-soldiers, therefore he will help us in getting to Karli,” Bucky says, stepping in front of your eyesight trying to explain himself.

“That also means he hates you, Buck,”

All of them freeze as you address the elephant in the room. Bucky grits his teeth and steps back, averting your gaze as you and Sam stare expectedly at him but he doesn’t respond so Zemo takes his opportunity to step closer to you, now only a few feet apart.

“I can assure you, getting rid of Karli and her super soldier friends is my priority. Not James,”

You clench your jaw in anger as you look at Zemo. He tilts his head, the side of his lip curling up slightly, hoping you’d take a chance on him. Sighing, you turn to shoot one more look at Bucky.

“Steve wouldn’t have liked this,”

Later you sat across from Zemo on his private jet. All of you sat in uncomfortable silence as you flew to Madripoor. Sam and Bucky did not seem as close as you were to both of them. They both just sat on their respective sides and looked out the window. Zemo had a book on him which he seemed very preoccupied reading, yet there were moments where you could feel his eyes settle upon you. Ignoring his inquisitive gaze, you choose to follow in Bucky and Sam’s lead of looking out the window and daydream the rest of the trip away.

Your mind trails back to Steve. You wondered just what Steve would have thought about you teaming up with Zemo. He would have understood, wouldn’t he? It was the best option you had. Ah, but he had always been such a stickler about the rules. Breaking a criminal out and helping him avoid the law wasn’t very patriotic of you. Yep, he would not have gone through with this plan, he would have found another way that worked. But none of the people here were him. He choose not to be here. You knew you had to let him go.

“Champagne?”

You pull your eyes away from the window, coming back to reality as you see a bottle of champagne in Zemo’s hand and an empty glass in his other hand. He already had another glass full beside him as he looked at you expectantly.

“No,”

“Sure?”

“What part of no do you not understand,” you snap harshly glaring at him then back out to the window

“My apologies,” he says, pursing his lips together as he looks down at the empty glass. He glances over to Sam and Bucky but they both shake their heads as well so he hands the glass and drinks back to his butler and sighs as he opens his book again.

The tension between all of you sticks around as you arrive at Madripoor. Zemo had provided you a tight-fitting dress to ‘appear the part’ of your allice, and it showed off a bit too much of your chest than you liked. It was too bright for you, golden and sparky, cutting off at your upper tight, and had a very low v cut. You try your best to pull it down to cover you some more but to no avail. Begrudgingly, you leave the plane to meet up with the rest of them.

“My my y/n, the dress suits you,” Zemo says, smirking as his eyes trail up and down your body as you walk past him taking a straight beeline towards Sam and Bucky.

“How long will this mission take?” you ask, already feeling the cold air nip at your skin.

“Few hours at the least. I’m sorry that you have to do this, y/n”

“Hey, I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to help you two,” you mutter as you hear a car pulling up behind you

“Not exactly this though,” Bucky grumbles, glowering over at Zemo who motions to the car that had arrived. Zemo opens the door and waits for you to get in however you walk to the other side of the car and get in. Bucky chuckles at Zemo’s annoyed expression as he instead gets into the side, which Zemo held open.

During the mission, Zemo kept getting uncomfortably close to you. Occasionally his hand brushed against your back as he moved past you, or his hand would bump into yours slightly, lingering against yours longer than normal.

You knew why he was doing this. Because of Steve. He knew how close you and Steve were, everyone did. During the fight between Steve and Tony which Zemo had helped cause you stuck by Steve every second. Now that Steve was gone, Zemo was trying to rub that in. Trying to irritate you on purpose. You would not let him get to you.

During the meeting with Selby you stood off to the side with Sam and you were feeling pretty good about yourself that the mission was going well until Sam’s phone rang. You tried to keep cool while also giving Sam the wtf look as to why he didn’t put his phone on silent. You hung out hoping things would go okay, but today wasn’t your day.

Shelby got gunned down in front of you, and the mission was ruined. Running in heels wasn’t ideal, but you had to make do. You followed Sam and Bucky as Zemo split up from you, running off somewhere else. Eventually, you kicked off your heels, believing running barefoot would be better than dealing with the agony of heels.

Finally, meeting back up with Zemo, you were ready to have to fight your way out of this mess, but then someone you didn’t think you would ever see again appeared. Sharon Carter. You two weren’t exactly buddy buddies. You got along for Steve’s sake, but it always felt like a sort of rivalry between you two for his attention.

“Y/n,” she says, finally addressing you

“Sharon,” you say back, feeling the awkwardness seep back in. Sharon didn’t seem bothered however, she even kindly let you have some new clothes and shoes which were much more comfortable than the ones Zemo lent you and more your style.

Walking back into the main room you see Zemo sitting down, once again drinking, Bucky sitting down as far away from Zemo as he could get and Sam standing at the side. You choose to stand by Sam.

“Hey, y/n, you doing okay?” Sam asks as you walk over.

“Better than other days. What are we waiting around for?”

“For Sharon to lead us to a party where she can get the information we need,” Zemo answers for Sam, peeking over at you. You ignore him.

Sharon comes back in and tells all of you not to get in trouble while you are out at the party.

“Trouble,” Zemo jokes, and he once again glances over to you, raising a glass and winking at you as he downs it.

Following Sharon, you head into the party. It was to show off the art pieces she had got a hold of so you thought you might as well look at them as you were unlikely to see any of these genuine pieces again. You could see however Zemo following you. He tried to be sly by checking out the other artworks near you, never exactly where you were, but you could tell because every time you moved to a new place soon enough Zemo would suddenly appear there as well. He leaned into one of the artworks, pretending to study it closely, but the corner of his eyes would flick over to you.

Groaning in frustration at your new stalker, you decide you had to lose him in the crowds. Swaying your body, you enter the dancing crowd and jump along to the music, letting yourself go. You could feel your excitement growing with the crowd as you danced, but with one quick turn around there, you saw him.

Zemo had now entered the crowd and was dancing along to the music as well, pumping his hands in time to it. As you stared at him in disbelief, he notices and takes that as an innovation to dance over to you.

“Dancing is fun, right?” he asks as he claps his hand to the music

“Why are you doing this!” you exclaim glaring at him.

His eyebrows furrow as he looks at you, “I don’t understand what you mean?”

You huff in annoyance and storm away, going to find Sam and Bucky leaving Zemo alone on the dance floor. He watches you go and sighs, moving away from the dance floor. It had been a long time since he last got to socialize with anyone and he was trying with you; he wanted to know you more, but he didn’t want to push you too far either if you were uncomfortable with it.

The next few hours felt like a blur to everyone. Sharon found out where the doctor was and you found out a bit of information before Zemo choose to shoot him. Then the whole place exploded, and you had to fight for your life while Zemo hijacked and car to pick you up. Now you were standing outside the safe house.

Zemo opened up the doors, and with his arm motioned for you to go in first. You roll your eyes at his extravagance and storm in, looking around the place. It was simple, but you could still tell that it was all designer, expensive to Zemo’s tastes. You sit down on the sofa while Zemo instantly gravitates towards the liquor cupboard.

“If you drink so much you won’t have long left to live” you mutter as you watch him pour some whiskey. His head shoots up as he turns sidewards to look at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Concerned about my health now?”

“I’d rather have you not pass out during a mission, at least till you are no longer of use to us then you can drink yourself to death for all I care,”

“Ah concern for the mission, yes you avengers folks are all the same. The mission takes precedence before anything else,” Zemo says, grabbing his glass and walking over to take a seat on the sofa opposite you.

You give him a cold hard stare crossing your arms. “What do you mean by that” you hiss

He tilts his head, smirking as he sees how riled up you were getting. “I’m simply observing that you have to put your mission before human lives. I know from how much I studied Steve-”

“Don’t bring Steve into this!” you exclaim, leaning forward, baring your teeth at him.

Zemo pauses for a moment shocked, he pulls his head back to observe, his mouth slightly ajar as his eyebrows cast down but realization dawns across his face.

“Ah, you and Steve, you two were an item,”

“It wasn’t like that” you murmur, jumping up from the sofa and pacing around the room to try to alleviate the agitation you felt, your nails digging into your arms as you wrapped them around your body in comfort.

“But there was something,” Zemo replies, watching you pace around the room then looking into the glass bitterly, his grip on it tightening.

You turn your back to Zemo to stare at your reflection in the mirror, seeing the tears swell up in your eyes.

“Why are you bringing this up? Why do you keep trying to annoy me Zemo, what purpose are you getting from this apart from some sick sadistic pleasure?”

It was Zemo’s turn to jump up from the sofa, hurt you could ever think so lowly of him, his eyebrows furrowed as he speeds over to you. He stands beside you, getting a lot closer to you than you would like. You turned your head away so he couldn’t see the tears threatening to fall.

“Do you think that bad of me? Y/n we may not have had the best first impression but know that it is never my intention to irritate or upset you,” Zemo says, trying to move even closer to you, but he moves a step too far and you back away.

“Just leave me alone, Zemo” you whisper, then run out of the room to find a bathroom to let everything out.

Zemo watches your form leave, angrily clenching his jaw, knowing he pushed it too far. The vein in his neck twitches as he grabs an ornament by the side of the mirror. Holding it in his hand, he observes the glass figure, a dove, then chucks it into the ground in rage, feeling an inkling of satisfaction at seeing it smash into a thousand pieces. He grabs more ornaments, at that moment not caring how much they each cost, just enjoy the release of anger he felt every time he smashed one.

You could hear the blood in your brain roar through your ears, the feeling of your heart hitting your chest in shock as you stared down at Lemar’s dead body.

Your eyes flicker to John’s who knelt beside him, trying desperately to wake him up, but you knew it was hopeless. Lemar was gone. Your eyes flickered around the rest of the room, Karli and her friend realising how bad they have messed up were already running away from the room. Bucky and Sam looked at each other as if knowing what was to happen. Your eyes finally land on Zemo’s. John had tried to arrest him, but you were able to stop him. Zemo was still useful though you hated to admit it, it wasn’t long however till the Dora Milaje would find him.

You feel a hand brush against your shoulder and snap back into reality, “We need to leave, now,” Zemo whispered in your ear, pulling your arm to make you move.

Gathering your senses, you let Zemo lead you out of the building as you hear a crash from above. Running out into the road, you and Zemo catch up beside Sam and Bucky and watch the disaster unfold.

There was John, in Cap’s uniform, holding Cap’s shield above that man.

Steve.

Steve’s shield.

You feel a scream tear from your lips as you watch John Walker bring the shield down, penetrating the man’s chest, staining it in blood. Tears leak from your eyes as you attempt to rush forward, to try and stop it, but arms grasp onto you, pulling you back.

“NO” you repeatedly cried, trying to worm your way out of the grasp, but they gripped you, refusing to let go. Your knees gave out and you sink to the floor, collapsing in the arms of the person who held you, your head buried in the fur part of their coat as they held you to their chest.

You kept sobbing, shaking as the image replayed over and over in your mind.

“Captain America just killed someone,” you whispered, unable to say anything else. The arms which held you picked you up, quietly shushing you, and carried you down a road, back into the safe house.

They tried to put you on the sofa but you clung to their body, not believing you could survive without their support, so they settle on lying down beside you on the sofa.

They turned you to face their body as their arms draped around you, gently rubbing circles into your back. Burying your head into their chest again, you let the sobs wail out as your chest ached from breathing.

“Captain America just killed someone,” you whisper again to him.

“That wasn’t Steve, y/n, Steve would never do something like that,” he murmured, his accent soothing your nerves.

“But it was his shield Zemo. The very thing I had idolized for so long,”

“A shield which by now no longer belongs to him. He was never Captain America y/n, what we just saw proved that. They will give the shield to someone better,”

You sniff, trying to prevent the snot from coming out of your nose as your bloodshot eyes look up into his, “Really?”

He gently smiles at you, taking his hand off your back to push a strand of hair that was hanging over your eye away.

“Yes, they won’t make the same mistake twice,”

Zemo’s words brought more comfort than you could have ever imagined. His embrace brought you warmth and you could feel yourself slowly stop shaking as he held you. Looking away from Zemo in embarrassment, you instead choose to snuggle your head back into his chest, hearing the rapid beating of his heart which lulled you to sleep.

Tags: @sinister-sleep @cable-kenobi @faustlyaccused @chipster-21 @icarusinstatic @yallgotkik @montypythonsholysnail @bunniwritesx @checkurwindow @huntheimpossible @jayxkelsi @avgravy @prestigious-tea @aloyssiac @hannahbal-the-fannibal @alainabooks143 @jokerprettyprincess @plumsandkiwis @latenightartist-author @e-barba @flutterskies @wonderwoman292 @there-goes-thefighter @multiyfandomgirl40 @freyjasamael @ineffablebean

#zemo x you #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo #i love zemo #zemo x y/n #zemo tag #zemo fluff #tfatws #daniel brühl #marvel #mcu

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the-black-birb · 5 years ago

Note

ahh hi ! congrats on 600 omg, that’s such an amazing milestone !! do u think I could get some first time nsfw hcs for kuroo, oiwawa and kageyama? like it’s their s/o’s first time aha, I think I worded that kinda weird I’m sorry alsklssn

Mmm i love first time stories bc they can be dorky and cute!! Nsfw warning <3 also sorry these are very long

Kuroo Tetsurou

Before your relationship, Kuroo has had one other serious partner so he kind of knows the drill

When you to started getting really heated with your make outs and you told him you were a virgin he was completely cool with that! He wanted to make sure the two of you took your time so you'd never feel uncomfortable

You two do plenty of things before sex. You give him handjobs, he eats you out, you help each other get relief

But you haven't gone all the way yet, until the night after a comp

You didn't know if it was the adrenaline rush of winning that had him pumped, or the way he looked playing that had you shifting in your seat, but you two were all over each other

Nekoma was staying at a hotel, the boys were rooming in groups of three. Somehow kuroo convinced yaku and kai to stay with the 2nd years so you and him could have alone time (he has to take them for ramen to make up for it)

Neither of you expected it to escalate. You were all over each other, you straddling his waist and his hands flush over your skin, pushing your shirt up

But you were certain this would just end when you got too nervous about the boys one room away from you

Wrong. Absolutely wrong.

You were grinding against him hard, breaths shallow, getting lost in the heat of the moment

"I-" you choked out in between breaths. "I want you inside me."

Kuroo stopped to stare at you. "Are you sure? Y'know the guys are right there-"

"We'll just be quiet then," you cut him off with a kiss.

Kuroo wasted no time in shedding his clothes, you followed suit

It was only then you realized you'd never seen him fully naked before. You'd gotten him off, but usally his pants stayed on (or at least his shirt did)

Kuroo in his naked glory. Wooh. That was a lot to take in. And the way his eyes looked at you, drinking you up, you felt heat pooling in your core

Ever the gentleman, Kuroo wanted to prep you first (he was impressive). He uses his fingers, making sure to stretch you out nicely

Probably makes you orgasm just on his fingers so he can tease you about it later

And the whole time he's doing it you've got your hands clamped tightly over your mouth, trying to keep quiet. Kuroo delighted in the way your chest heaved and your neck tensed as you swallowed back moans

Once your prepped, he asks you one more time if you're certain you want to lose your virginity at a hotel in the middle of nowhere with his teammates on the other side.

You do, and he wastes no time in entering you (he had condoms with him just in case something like this happened)

He enters you slowly, giving you time to adjust

He likes sex rough and fast, but he knows right know is about you. Once he bottoms out and knows your good, he rocks himself back and forth slowly and gently

His cock is long, so even his little motions have you convulsing with pleasure

But as soon as you adjust, Kuroo starts to speed up. He can't help it, his patience and self control is thin

He's bucking into you fast when you come, but he's focused on riding out his own orgasm

There isn't much he can do for aftercare without the two of you being found out, so he just texts Yaku asking if they'd be able to stay in the 2nd years room for longer than planned

Yaku is like "yeah we can all tell you were going at it please shut up"

No one questions why you're limping the next day

Oikawa Tooru

I don't think Oikawa sleeps around, but he's definitely had a fuck buddy or two, as well as exclusive relationships

Safe to say, he's far more experienced out of the two of you

You're a little intimidated by it, but he assures you he wants nothing more than to treat you right

So with Oikawa you have to tell him when you're ready to have sex

When you do, he plans everything out. Gets his parents out of the house, sets the mood with candles and incense and everything and spoils you silly

Oikawa is a switch, but he likes to be a whiney sub. That being said, you need him right now and he intends to show you how much he can help

Is absolutely a giver. Worships your body, doesn't leave a single inch of skin un-kissed

His lips are all over you, your neck and breasts and stomach and thighs- everywhere

He doesn't leave marks (yet) because he wants to be loving and caring and for you to remeber your first time sweetly

When he finally sees you starting to relax under his touch and loosen up, he starts pressing kisses closer and closer to your core

Eats you out, and he is damn good at it. Eats you out like your pussy is the last meal he'll get to eat and, damn, he is trying to savor it

When you've come for the second time and you're whiney and needy, cheeks wet with tears, only then will he finally fuck you

Probably has flavored condoms, idk why i just need to include that

Oikawa has incredible self control, so he takes his pace incredibly slow. He's pushing into you slowly, and when he's finally all the way in his thrusts are long

The feeling of him inside you lingers, even as he backs away, and has you gasping for more

But even as you're cumming around his cock and squeezing him so damn well he doesn't waver

He keeps his pace slow and consistent, so much so you're going crazy

Praises you as he does it. "You're taking me so well, baby." "You feel so good, love." His words fill you with just as much pleasure as his actions

Doesn't make much noise until he finally comes, at which point he just lets out a low grumble. Frankly, it's uncharacteristic of him but he's doing all he can to keep the attention on you

King of aftercare. Runs you a bath, massages your muslces, and keeps asking you if you're alright

"Was that okay? Are you tired?" He's so insistent you're rolling your eyes

"I dunno, Tooru, I think we'll have to try again to make sure," you say lazily, still tired out from the multiple orgasms he ripped from you

Oikawa just smiles, running an arm up and down your side. "Let's rest for now, love. We can go again in the morning."

You hold him to his word.

Kageyama Tobio

Listen if you havent had sex yet, Kageyama definitely hasn't either

So you're both virgins, you're both clueless, and it ends up being kind of funny

Unlike Oikawa and Kuroo who both know to have a conversation before sex you and Kags are both flustered and confused

It was a pretty typical weekend, your parents weren't home so Kags came over to watch a movie. The two of you got into a heated makeout (again, fairly typical at this point) and as you were adjusting how you were sitting, kags hands tight around your waist and yours flush over his neck, you accidentally push onto his crotch

And Kageyama groans. Loudly. As in, he throws his headback and lets out a noise from the bottom of his chest

You freeze. He's never done that before. Soon, you notice the growing erection in his pants and you, very much a virgin, have no idea what to do

So the two of you sit there in silence, staring at each other, neither of you sure how to talk about this

"Should we-" "Did you-"

...

"I mean-" "we could-"

Finally you've had enough and you burst, going "are we about to have sex?"

And Kageyama is sitting there, straining against his pants like, "um, if you want?" bc he doesn't know how to explain exactly how eager he is although it's certainly almost obvious

"D-do you have condoms?"

Of course not. Neither of you were prepared for this. But if there's a day to lose your virginity, you'd much rather it be a weekend that your parents are out and you can take all the time you want

So you rush to the newest corner store to pick up condoms (but you're embarassed so you buy a bunch of snacks and sneak them in) and leave Kageyama sitting in your bed, with an erection

And Kags is there sitting there thinking "just wait for her to come back, she'll be back soon. Just distract yourself" and he tries to put the movie back on or think about volleyball or anything to calm his raging boner but then he thinks about you again and it all comes crashing back down

By the time you get back to your house, he's red and sweating all over and damn his pants are straining around his cock (he's a grower)

And you'd like to do everything you can to help him, really, but you're still absolutely confident so you walk into the room and go "uh, I've got condoms?"

And Kags is trying not to touch himself before you got there but as soon as he sees you he's feral

"Fuck [Y/N] come here-" and he's pulling you on top of him and ravishing you with his lips

As much as Kags wants to dominate you, he's feeling awfully needy right now so you end up doing all the work, stripping both of you of your clothes while Kageyama admires you and lays kisses all over your collarbone and chest

Finally you get to the underwear and you look at him one last time, settled between his thighs with your face dangerously close to his crotch and go "are you sure, Tobio?" with your big doe eyes

Kageyama thought he was about to cream himself in his boxers right there

He didn't, though, instead insisting you just get on with it and you did, popping out his cock (wincing, slightly, because you've never been this close to a penis and damn they're kinda...ugly...) and rolling a condom onto it

The first condom tore bc you didn't know what you were doing but fortunately you had a whole box to spare

And finally (Kags cannot stress this enough: finally) the both of you are ready (you haven't done much foreplay bc neither of you realized that's an option)

You end up riding him bc Kageyama just wants relief and he's gotten choked up with how hard he's gotten

And while it'd be magnificent to say the penetration was euphoric and you felt yourself fill up so well, it's also unrealistic

You just feel weird with something lodged between your legs. You're not really sure how it's supposed to feel so you just start moving

As it starts to feel good, Kags is bucking up into you at the same time and, fuck, it's just starting to get good-

And Kags cums. It's over way too fast and you've barely even gotten any pleasure but what did you expect?

Kageyama wants to apologize for not being better (even as he's sweating, hair plastered to his forehead and breath shallow and fuck thats hot) but you're just rubbing soothing circles over his shoulders

"It's fine, baby, we'll just have to practice more."

Well, he won't mind that

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mcustorm · 4 years ago

Text

In Defense of a Black Cyclops

In case my username didn’t make it clear, the single most anticipated visual project for me is the MCU’s interpretation of the X-Men, which hasn’t even been announced yet [officially]. And ladies and gents, I have found your Cyclops:

Good ol’ Alfred Enoch, who we all know from Harry Potter and How to Get Away With Murder. If you’re not familiar with HTGAWM, know that his character goes from the de facto leader of the ragtag (murderers) and most cherished protege of Viola Davis’ Professor X to taking more of a grimdark turn after his girlfriend’s death. Sound at least somewhat familiar?

Enoch also embodies the physicality of the character well, seeing as to how he’s “slim”, 6′4(!!), black, and notoriously lanky. Wait, one of these isn’t like the others.

In general I hate fancasting. Everyone generally picks from the same pool of about 30 actors (Peeps, neither Taron nor Daniel is a good Wolverine choice. Argue with your mother!), and most all of it is based on physicality, except when it absolutely should be (like say, choosing a ~5′10 dark-skinned black woman for Storm).

And I think there’s some malarkey afoot. I think there needs to be some serious consideration on part of fancasters and actual casting agents alike to rethink race when it comes to the [white] X-Men, especially since they’re the X-Men of all teams. So I’ll make the case for a black Cyclops:

1. There is no quota on Black X-Men: There’s a bug in your ear that’s been whispering lies to you for years, it says something to the effect of “We need a black person on the team for diversity. How bout Storm?” And you’ve gotten complacent. Storm does not have to be the only black person on your X-Men roster.

2. The X-Men represent diversity: Iceman is gay, Cyclops and Prof. X are disabled (sorta), there are plenty of women, oh and everybody except Storm is white. Of the A-List X-Men, there is only *one* POC character. I’d argue that an MCU X-Men needs to champion diversity like never before.

3. The X-Men represent minority struggle while being mostly white: There’s a cognitive dissonance in the metaphor that has always been there, and for the most part, nobody cares. To appeal to the white readers of the 60′s, the X-Men were all initially white. That way, the message of the mutants could be related to the audience with a familiar face. We don’t need to approach the problem that way in 202?

4. Just because that’s the way it’s always been, doesn’t mean that’s the way it should be: The first line of defense. Sorry, that will never be a good justification for literally any idea. It’s time for some more critical thinking.

5. We don’t all want to be Bishop: So say you’re white and you have a kid who for his birthday having a costume party. You’ve bought some X-Men costumes and you want each kid to pick one. 9 white kids and one black kid show up to your house. As the kids deliberate who gets what costume, be it Cyke or Wolvie or whatever, you yell at everybody to “STOP!”, point to the one black kid and tell him “You’re gonna be Bishop. That’s it, end of story!”

We don’t all want to be Bishop. The black child could have the best Cyclops interpretation within him, but you’ll never know if you don’t let him try. And that’s no different from the Black actors of Hollywood. There’s no reason why all of the black talent should *have* to compete for the role of Bishop or Storm, which I’ve discussed, while Joe Schmo can walk up and audition for literally anybody he wants.

Jharrel Jerome is 23 and has an Emmy to his name. He needs to be in the MCU in some capacity, period. Stephan James is another. How bout Damson Idris. Ashton Sanders. But no, no, let’s fancast Dacre Montgomery or Ansel or Joe Keery again as [Human Torch, Wolverine, Iceman, Angel, I’ve literally seen it all.]

6. Nobody wants to see the B-team if it comes down to it. The next line of defense from your racebending naysayers after “That’s the way it’s always been!” is “Well, what about Psylocke, Bishop, Forge and Jubilee?” who are otherwise known as B-tier X-Men. The problem is, we’ve got limited time and limited spots.

So since the X-Men is all about wonky metaphors that make half sense, let me give you another: Let’s say somebody approaches you and says “Hey buddy, I got two free concert tickets for ya! You can either see Michael Jackson Sings the Blues, or you can go see Justin Timberlake. Free of charge!”

Now, are you used to MJ singing the blues? No! Do you have a problem with going to see Justin Timberlake? No, he’s fine on a Wednesday! He had that one little diddy we liked that one time. We’d love to see him eventually! But are you gonna say, “fuck that, I’m going to see MJ Sings the Blues” regardless? Hell yes, because that’s still Michael Jackson. He’s gonna give the same amazing performance he always does, it’s just gonna be the blues. And speaking of blues...

7. Black is not Blue, Brown is not Blue: Raise your hand if you’ve ever heard this one: “I don’t care if you’re black, white, purple, or green, I’m going to treat you all the same!” I will not say all have this intention, but some fancasters have noticed that the racial diversity is kinda low within the A-List X-Men, so they oh-so-generously give the following roles to a black or brown person: Iceman, Nightcrawler, Beast.

Notice the pattern? It’s a microaggression, and it’s bullshit. What these fancasters are implicitly telling you is that, yes the actors will be black or brown, but when the action starts we can ignore that. They’ll be blue by then. In other words, you in fact do care if they’re purple or green. Nobody will cry foul if Dev Patel gets to play Nightcrawler (because that’s a common one I see), but should Anna Diop be Starfire or Michael B. Jordan be Human Torch, I bet there’d be backlash. Oh wait. If that’s you, please stop acting like you actually value diversity. You don’t want to see black or brown skin, period. Unless of course, it’s Storm (refer to point #1).

But wait, there’s more! When brown characters get whitewashed in these movies, it’s crickets! So eventually it’s revealed implicitly that proclaimers of point #4 only care about it one way.

8. Professor X should not be black if you’re not willing to change anyone else: The next line of defense is that some people say the professor should be black, if anybody HAS to be racebent. Something something MLK Jr., Civil Rights or some shit. Number one, I’m not reducing Professor X to being a magical negro for 9 white people (and Storm!) who for all intents and purposes get to have all the action. Number 2, the Professor X/MLK/Magneto/Malcolm X comparison is an oversimplifying disservice to ALL FOUR of those people. I hate that line whenever I see it, please watch a documentary my friends.

9. The Candidates for Racebending: For me, the A-List X-Men are Cyclops, Jean Grey, Iceman, Angel, Beast, Wolverine, Storm, Gambit, Rogue, Colossus, Nightcrawler, and Kitty Pryde. Now, who should be exempt from the racebending? Storm, she’s our designated minority. Gambit, he’s Cajun and they’re white (generally speaking, that’s a fun bit of research). Wolverine, Colossus, and Nightcrawler, because their nationality/ethnicity was the whole point of the Giant-Size premise in the first place. Angel, because his character embodies a privileged white male. Beast and Iceman, I don’t care one way or another (Point #7).

That leaves Cyclops, Rogue, Jean Grey, and Kitty Pryde. Now Jean Grey is a redhead, and we all know that every time a redhead is racebent people sharpen their pitchforks (Mary Jane, Wally West, Iris West), so I will cede the ground on Jean if only so that my ginger friends can get their rep. Kitty Pryde is Jewish, but Jews of color exist. Rogue is from the South. And Cyclops is, well, just Cyclops. That makes those three characters good options for more diversity. But allow me to make the case for Cyclops, specifically.

10. It’s not just diversity for diversity’s sake: If you had to pick who the main character of the X-Men is supposed to be, most would say Cyclops. And so in a series that highlights racial discrimination in society, it makes sense that our main character be black. While changing Cyclops’ skin color should not change who he is as a character, it *should* recontextualize it. Now, as an eventual increasingly radical leader of the X-Men, Cyclops would evoke real life figures such as Colin Kaepernick or, shall I say, Martin Luther King, Jr.

Not that most X-Men fans and writers truly think about what it means to be black anyways. Storm’s minority status is almost always put through the lens of her being a mutant and not her being a black woman. In other words, you can’t argue that making a character black will fundamentally change his or her character when you haven’t even analyzed the racial context of the black character(s) you already have. Another concept that the MCU X-Men should tackle: intersectionality.

11. Representation matters: I have to say it: Chadwick Boseman’s Black Panther hit different. And now he is tragically gone. At the end of the day, the MCU moving forward is down its most prominent black male superhero. Which has implications beyond just the movies themselves.

The women are in good hands. Shuri, Okoye, and Nakia are badasses in Wakanda, Valkyrie is ruling Asgard, Storm is almost assuredly on the way, RiRi Williams has already been cast, and Monica Rambeau is here and she’s not even at her most glorious yet. That doesn’t even include variable Δ, or the number of characters who can and will be racebent. And I’ll note again that to me, Gamora doesn’t count, because she’s green (#7 really pisses me off because it’s so blatant. I hate it). Of course from a behind the camera perspective we love black women getting work.

The men are a completely different story. Imma just go out and say it, I can’t stand Falcon and War Machine [in the MCU] because they’re not characters, they’re just two of a slew of MCU minority sidekicks who have essentially been at the beck and call of Captain America and Iron Man, respectively. You cannot tell Falcon’s story without mentioning Cap. The reverse is not true. There’s a whole essay that could be and have been written on “Minorities in the MCU, pre-Black Panther”. Remember, there’s a reason BP made so much noise in the first place.

So excluding those two we have, let’s see, M’Baku, Blade, and Fury who aren’t exactly the most superheroic superheroes, Eli Bradley is proooobably coming, I doubt Miles Morales is coming (because he’s just Peter Parker in the MCU), Luke Cage(?) Bishop(??), Sunspot(???), Blue Marvel(????). Not only are they not A-List, I would not put money on any of them being in the MCU any time soon.

Cyclops is thee Captain America of the X-Men. He’s the frontman. He’s the poster boy. He’s the “boy scout”, which in other words means he’s the hero, if there has to be one. It would mean a lot right now, and specifically *right now*, if he were to be black. The MCU needs it. It NEEDS it.

12. The X-Men is the Summers Story: I’ll even make the case that if just one character needs to racebent, then it should be Cyclops, because that of course implies that other related characters need to be black because half of the X-Men universe is in fact a part of the Summers family.

So now Cable is black. Corsair is black. Havok is black. And one of the most central stories in the X-Men mythos, the Summers family drama, is now a black family drama set in space or the future or where the fuck ever. The concept is boundary pushing. When white families have drama in the media, it gets to be Game of Thrones or Star Wars, while when black families have drama in the media, it has to be black people arguing in a kitchen or living room about their various earthly traumas (I’m @’ing you, Mr. Perry). I mean, that’s all fine and good often times, but I want my black family drama in space, dammit.

And again, this is the X-Men, the series that’s all about *minorities* and their struggle, so again, why not?

Oh, and I’ll even throw out a Havok fancast for you: How bout Jharrel Jerome?

#cyclops #scott summers #the mutants #monica rambeau #X-men #xmen #marvel #MCU #fancast #jharrel would actually be a better sunspot #but you get the point #my man would have OPTIONS

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q-gorgeous · 4 years ago

Text

Am I a Ghost? Fear Me

fanfiction

ao3

Valerie, hoping to improve her skills and learn more about anti-ghost tech, interns at Fenton Works for @kinglazrus

word count: 1069

yo hi laz

“Hi there, Valerie!”

Seconds after knocking on the door, Valerie was greeted by a very energetic Jack Fenton who looked like he was trying very hard to contain his excitement.

“Hi, Mr. Fenton.” She said, smiling up at him.

“Come in, come in.” He stepped out of the way. “Maddie’s upstairs but she should be down shortly. I can’t wait to get started! We’ve never had an intern before!”

Valerie smiled and bit her tongue. She knew why no one wanted to intern here. Everyone was getting more and more interested in learning about ghosts but no one wanted to listen to the Fenton’s ramble on about them everyday. But Valerie needed to learn more about ghosts to help with her ghost hunting and the Fenton Works internship was paid anyways. It was a good option all around.

“I can’t wait to see what you guys all do downstairs. I’ve been down there a handful of times but I don’t think you guys were ever actually working when I was there.”

Jack laughed. “Amazing stuff we do in the lab. We engineer stuff, study ectoplasmic samples, research the behavior of ghosts. All sorts of neat things that we’ll get into soon!”

Valerie nodded and was about to respond when she was interrupted.

“Hi Valerie!” Maddie said from the top of the stairs. “You’re here! I think it’s about time we head down to the lab and get started for today.”

“You betcha, come on Valerie!” Jack ran out of the living room and into the kitchen, already disappearing by the time Maddie and Valerie made it into the kitchen.

“Okay.” Maddie said as they walked down the stairs into the basement. “The first thing we’re going to do today is get your measurements so we can make you a jumpsuit. It’s very important to wear it when in the lab for safety, no matter what our children and their friends think. Do you have any particular colors you’d like your suit to be in?”

Valerie pondered it for a few moments. “What about red and black?”

“Excellent. Now just stand here while I take a few measurements.”

Valerie stood still and moved as Maddie directed while she took note of Valerie’s measurements. Jack was on the other side of the lab listing off the name of each invention that he picked up and telling her what each one did.

“And this one is the ghost gabber! It translates the wails of the ghost language into something we can understand! It also still registers when a ghost is speaking in a human language which is good for confirming if someone is a ghost or not.” Jack turned on the invention.

“Wow, that’s cool. I didn’t know that ghosts had their own language.”

“Wow, that’s cool. I didn’t know that ghosts had their own language. Fear me.”

Valerie frowned at the invention and her gaze flicked back up to Jack’s face when he laughed.

“We finally got this thing to stop picking up on Danny and now it’s registering you too! I guess we never actually fixed it.” Jack said, turning it over in his hands.

Her brows furrowed. “Danny?”

“Ever since our portal started working all of our inventions started picking Danny up and trying to tell us he was a ghost.” Maddie said as she laughed. “Which is ludicrous because we know our son and we know he’s not a ghost.”

“But why does he set off the inventions?”

Maddie paused for a moment. “He was involved in an accident with the ghost portal, the day it started working, which is why lab safety is so important.”

Jack nodded. “Ever since Vlad had his accident in college, we upped our safety protocol as high as we could but that doesn’t really stop stubborn teenagers.”

Valerie’s blood ran cold. “Vlad? As in Vlad Masters?”

“Oh yeah, he was our buddy back in college. It was the three of us against the world!” Jack stared off into space longingly. “But he was hospitalized for a long time after his accident and he never wanted to see us.”

Valerie’s brain was starting to turn as Mr. Fenton kept talking.

She knew half ghosts existed and that both Vlad and Dani were halfas but-

Oh god she was so dumb. She knew about Dani and Phantom’s relationship to one another, but she never stopped to consider how much she looked like Danny when she found her in her human form. Or stopped to think what Dani being both human and ghost meant for Phantom, especially after seeing Vlad transform.

But what did that mean for her?

She showed up on the ghost gabber just like Danny did, but she never had a lab accident where ectoplasm or ghosts were involved. The only thing-

Her suit.

She could feel her suit tingling just under her skin, available to her with the command of a simple thought. She didn’t have to store it anywhere on her anymore, not like how her old one was in her backpack. This one was just there all the time. She never stopped to actually consider the implications of that ghost melding her suit with her beyond having easy access to her equipment that her dad couldn’t take away.

Was she a half ghost too? Was she just severely ecto-contaminated? Was-

“Alright, I’m all done, Valerie!”

She started as Maddie cheerily announced the end of her measurement gathering. The woman had stood back and moved to a cabinet and was looking at different pieces of fabric.

“The earliest I can get this done by will be two days from now, but for today we’ll just continue going over what each of our inventions do and seeing if there are any others that we need to tweak like we did for Danny!” Jack said.

“Okay, yeah. What does that one do?” Valerie pointed at one that she didn’t recognize.

“That’s the Fenton Ghost Weasel! It…”

Jack’s voice slowly faded from Valerie’s hearing as the implication that all of these weapons could hurt her arose in her mind. If she set off the ghost gabber, who knew what could happen with the other ones.

“I caught Phantom with this bad boy once! Had him trapped inside here real good! Until he, uh, escaped! Yeah.”

The more Valerie learned, the more and more it really did seem like a good option all around.

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ragingpancake · 3 years ago

Text

I Will Try (To Fix You) - Part 2

It’s ten days before Carson deems Rodney “well enough” to return to his quarters. To date, this has been the longest infirmary stay that Rodney’s ever had and truthfully, he should probably stay a bit longer. His kidneys still aren’t functioning as well as they should, which means Carson’s been closely monitoring his water intake and urine output and a whole host of other things that John knows Rodney is embarrassed about. He’s also not entirely steady on his feet, courtesy of the muscle spams that wrack his calves and his thighs, bad enough sometimes to nearly bring him to tears. It’s ten days before John, Carson and Elizabeth have a very real, very difficult conversation about what a prolonged stay in the infirmary will likely do Rodney mentally, left with nothing really to occupy his time except, well, time to think about just how close he’d come to death. Carson is reluctant to release him; they haven’t yet gotten him back to solid foods and of course his kidney function is still a concern, but John knows Rodney, knows that he needs to be anywhere but here and he argues his case: Rodney can come stay in his quarters. His team is grounded for the foreseeable future, courtesy of John who is unwilling to go off-world without his entire team and while he’s offered to temporarily reassign Teyla and Ronon to Lorne, they share his line of thinking. Rodney can come stay with John, but he has his whole team who’ll be watching out for him, who will bring him for twice daily check ins, if needed, who will monitor any time spent in the lab, who just want Rodney to have some semblance of normalcy during his recovery. It must be an impassioned speech, because by the time he’s done, Elizabeth nods her consent and John finds for the first time in ten days, it’s a little easier to breath.

--- Rodney, predictably, complains about the arrangement. He’s not keen on having a babysitter and that hurts John’s stunted feelings more than he’d ever admit out loud. But when Carson makes it clear that the only option is an extended stay in the infirmary, he relents pretty easily and all that’s left is to prepare John’s quarters. Easy peasy. Right? Wrong. It turns out that the room John’s claimed for himself isn’t quite meant for two people. It’s small and while it’s fine for just him, he knows that it’s going to be too cramped, too claustrophobic and so he spends the eleventh day scouting out some of the larger quarters near the East Pier with Teyla, pretending to understand when she makes suggestions based on where the light from the rising sun falls and which room has the best view of the ocean, which she believes will aid in Rodney’s recovery. He’s never been much into new age bullshit that seems to be pretty common across two galaxies, but he’s willing to shove a couple of crystals up his own ass if it means getting Rodney better.

He enlists Ronon, Lorne and a couple of marines to help move their things. John leaves his own quarters to Wallace, Gregory and Barnes despite how uncomfortable the thought of them seeing his own personal effects makes him, and he takes Rodney��s room with Ronon and Lorne. Rodney, for his part, has a lot of stuff. It takes the better part of the afternoon to get everything moved over, including Rodney’s deceptively heavy prescription mattress, his four laptops and the whiteboard that he’d swiped from the labs within the first week of their arrival. John’s stuff, save for his own bed, mostly fits in a couple bags. By the time they’re finished, he’s tired, shoulders and back aching, reminding him just how fucking old he’s getting, but still, he trudges down to the infirmary, plastering a smile on his face for Rodney as he steps in through the paneled doors. “Hey buddy,” he greets. “Got us all set up in some new digs. Wait until you see the tub in this one,” he says, nodding as Carson comes over, Rodney’s chart in hand. “He all good to go, Doc?” “I suppose he’ll have to be, now won’t he?” He asks and there’s a scowl there that John cheerfully ignores. “I expect him back here at 10 and 2, Colonel. A minute late for either appointment and he’s back here, d’you understand?” “10 and 2, just like a steering wheel. Got it, doc. How about the food situation?” “Yeah, what he said,” Rodney frowns and John knows from previous experience just how miserable a clear liquid diet can be. “I’m alright with him startin’ on solids, but take it easy,” Carson warns. “Nothin’ too heavy,” and Rodney waves him off, but despite his lackadaisical nature, John really is taking this seriously, committing everything to memory. “Got it. We good?” Carson pauses for a moment before he sighs. “Aye. But not a moment late, Colonel!” He warns as Marie and Simpson come, pushing a wheelchair that Rodney tries to vehemently refuse. John settles a hand on his shoulder gently. “Hey, hey. C’mon. Easy. It’s a pretty long walk to the pier, alright? Let’s not push it too much on your first day.” “Traitor,” Rodney mutters under his breath and John actually does smile because it feels a little like it used to before those God damned Carneans. John steadies the wheelchair while Marie and Simpson maneuver Rodney into it and after what feels like forever, they’re finally on their way. “You did get my laptops, right?” “Yes, Rodney.” “And what about the Athosian soaps from the bathroom? Those were made specially for me by Gita and, and, and the medicinal properties-- “We got ‘em.” “My mattress?” “Of course.” Rodney harrumphs like maybe he’s expecting John to have forgotten something, as if John would ever. “What about—” “Your favorite red pen that you use to mark up all those damn physics journals? Yep. Got that too. We grabbed everything, buddy. And if there’s somethin’ you need that we don’t have, just say the word and we’ll make it happen.” Rodney falls strangely quiet at that. --- It’s easy to live with Rodney. Lorne had very nearly pissed himself from laughter when John said so after the first few days and honestly, John took a little offense to that on Rodney’s behalf. Sure, he’s messy and he’s loud and the longer he’s out, the more of his biting sarcasm is returning, but John’s all for it, especially when he considers the alternative. (And he does consider it, frequently, usually in the dead of night when he wakes up from nightmares of vomit and grey skin, of an antidote recovered too late). But honestly, save for the fact that John now has to deal with Rodney’s dirty clothes strewn across the room and the stupid whiteboard that takes up the space that John’s surf board should be occupying, not much has changed at all, a testament to just how much time the two of them had spent together even before this. John follows Carson’s instructions to a T, and okay, maybe that’s a little different too because John’s always been the one to avoid the infirmary at all costs when it comes to his own health and

well-being, but he’s not taking a chance with Rodney’s. He takes him to his appointments and at nights, when the muscle spasms seem to be the worst, John sits with him on that stupidly comfortable bed, kneading the tight muscles in his legs as he tries to distract Rodney with shitty 80s movies and random banter about anything and everything that he thinks will goad Rodney into a tirade that’ll take his mind off of the pain. He even lets Rodney have four hours a day in the labs, split into two hour segments with an hour break in between. Normalcy. That’s the goal here and Rodney’s always at his best when he’s in his element, berating scientists and defying all laws of physics. That’s where Rodney is when everything goes to hell. --- It’s been twenty days since the Carneans. Ten days of the two of them cohabitating, ten days of Rodney slowly working his way back to normal. He’s been subsisting entirely of power bars and MREs, which, while not entirely healthy has been cleared by Carson if only for the fact that they provide sustenance without being too taxing on Rodney’s still delicate system and John’s just thinking about whether or not he can try to convince Rodney to try something a little more substantial from the mess later that evening when the call comes in over the radio. “Zelenka to Colonel Sheppard, please respond.” He sounds harried and John closes the latest mission report from Lorne’s team, already on his feet and moving when he taps his comm. “Sheppard here, go ahead Doc.” “I need you in Science Lab 3 please. There is a… situation.” “What do you mean by situation, Radek?” But when Radek keys up his comm again, John can hear the panicked wheezing in the background and he picks it up to a swift jog. “I believe Rodney is having a panic attack,” he says. “I have tried to bring him around but nothing is working and I--.” “I’m on my way. Sheppard out.” He meets Ronon in the corridor and he doesn’t even have to say a word before the Satedan is altering his own course, following after John. They can hear it before they even open the door. Rodney’s on the verge of hyperventilating, the sound of his ragged breaths interspersed with pained moans and Ronon is quick to clear the lab of well meaning scientists who are gaping at the scene while Radek tries to shield Rodney from view as much as possible. “Hey, hey,” John says soothingly, trying to keep his voice calm despite the way his heart is beating against his ribcage. “I’m here, buddy. Rodney, look at me. Hey, hey,” and he reaches out, finger under Rodney’s chin as he tips his head up, wild blue eyes meeting hazel. John wants to take Rodney’s hand, but his arms are wrapped around his middle, clutching his stomach so tightly and John glances over at the toppled plate on the floor, shards of glass now mixed with what looks like not-meatloaf. “Talk to me, Doc,” John calls over his shoulder at Zelenka. “What the hell happened?” “He was out of power bars, but hungry, so Miko thought perhaps he might be enticed to eat by something from the mess, knowing that this,” he gestures, “was Rodney’s favorite. He managed a couple of bites and everything was fine until… until it was not.” “Cramps,” Rodney rasps, reaching out to grip John’s wrist painfully. “Cramps. Poison, I—I can’t--.” “Get Carson down here,” John snarls, voice softening as he turns back to Rodney. “Hey. Listen to me, buddy. Carson told us this could happen, remember? The cramps. That’s why we started light. You’re okay though. I promise, Rodney. You’re okay, I’m right here and I need you to breathe.” It takes a bit of manhandling but John manages to get Rodney up enough that he can slide behind the other, drawing Rodney back against his chest, taking a couple of deep breaths. “C’mon, buddy. Breathe with me. You’re alright. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Rodney.” That’s how Carson finds them a few moments later, Rodney trembling against the other, but thankfully no longer hyperventilating. “He’s alright,” John says, glancing up at Beckett. “Panic attack when

he tried to eat and cramped up.” “I thought—I thought--.” John pets through Rodney’s hair gently. “I know. You thought it happened again, but it didn’t, right? We’re gonna go down to the infirmary with Carson though and let him check you over so you can see for yourself.” “Easy, lad,” Carson says as Ronon comes over to help Rodney to his feet with more care than he’s shown anyone else, guiding him over to the gurney before he tugs John to his feet as well. “John—” Rodney rasps, the name catching his throat as the cramps hit again and he curls on his side, swallowing hard against the panic beginning to rise again. “I’m here,” John reminds him again, moving to take Rodney’s hand. “You’re alright, I promise.” And he is. He will be. John will be sure of that. --- The panic attacks don’t last long. He still cramps painfully when he eats, but the team is always with him at meal time to help him through it, John always, alwayseating a third of his food before switching his tray with Rodney’s for him to finish it, confident that there’s no poison. The effects of what had been done to him still linger, still present often and painfully, and sometimes, John doesn’t think what he’s doing is enough. That he should be doing more, that he should’ve done more back on that fucking planet to have saved Rodney from this entire ordeal. But Rodney’s getting better. John can see that when he goes longer and longer without a muscle spasm, or the first time he pees on his own and calls John in to see how clear it is, proof that his kidneys are finally starting to function normally. “You know,” Rodney says one night after they’ve pushed their beds close enough together that if they each scoot over to the edge, their shoulders are touching, “it probably won’t be too much longer until we can go back to our own quarters.” There’s an uncomfortable knot that twists itself up in John’s stomach at that but he swallows against the lump in his throat and says casually, “oh yeah? That’ll be cool. I guess.” “Yeah,” Rodney says and then he falls silent for a moment, as if waiting for something. Apparently, his impatience has returned full force because he doesn’t even give it a half a second before he’s speaking again. “I mean, unless we just… don’t?” Okay. That’s unexpected. “I just… this has been incredibly difficult, Colonel. Uh, John,” he corrects, “and you’ve… I know that this is probably because of some weird, misplaced guilt you’re harboring, because that’s how you are, Lieutenant Colonel Martyr, but… this has been okay… hasn’t it?” “Rodney, I--.” “I know I’m difficult. I’m messy and I’ll be going back to keeping weird hours soon enough and, and, and I know I can be annoying, but you’ve put up with that remarkably well and so I just thought--.” “I don’t want to go back to being alone,” John blurts out and he can feel the tension leaving Rodney’s body beside him. “Good. Me neither.” They fall into a comfortable silence then for a moment, the only sounds being their quiet breathing and the sound of the ocean waves through the open window. (Teyla was definitely right about picking this room.) “It’s not guilt,” John says after a moment. “I mean, not that I don’t feel guilty, because I should’ve never--.” He clears his throat and stops himself before he goes down that road. “You’re… I dunno. You’re McKay. Rodney. And I… when I found you that day, I thought you were dead,” and he can feel Rodney flinch at that, but he needs to get this out, he thinks. “I thought you’d died and I just… realized that I would’ve gone out of my fucking mind if you had, Rodney. Like, legitimately crazy because you’re… You’re you and I’m--. I’m yours. However you want me. If that means we forget this conversation ever happened and go back to how it was before all of this, I’m okay with that, but I just… I had to tell you because I came really fucking close to never getting another chance to.” Rodney is quiet, doesn’t say anything but after a moment, John can feel the other’s hand brush against his own before he

squeezes two of John’s fingers. “I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say at one time in all the time we’ve known each other.” And John laugh out loud at that, an actual laugh, and as he does, he feels that knot inside of him loosen just a bit. “Which is to say,” Rodney continues, “that I… would very much like to notforget this happened. I… suppose that I’m yours too. Maybe I always have been.” John doesn’t know where they’ll go from here. He’s under no delusions that this will be easy, any of it, but when has it ever been? All that matters though is that they have time now to work through it, to figure it out together. Maybe they’ll fix each other.

#mcshep #hurt/comfort #hurt rodney mckay #whumped rodney mcay #john sheppard #rodney mckay #sga #stargate atlantis #fandom: sga #angst #poisoning #panic attack

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clubtuan · 4 years ago

Text

Sorry, I couldn’t get to you

Pairing: Do Kyungsoo x female reader

Genre: The chilling adventure of Sabrina!au /witch!au /ansgt a lot of it/ mention of Swing Kids/ fluff / suggestive

Prompt : « I make my own happiness, and I hope you can too » - Sabrina Morningstar

A/N: I finish CAOS and I miss Kyungsoo. And I have Roh Kisoo feelings so yeah this happened, my first scenarios with EXO. And I totally wrote this listening to ‘’Say Something’’ by A Great Big World 90% of the time.

Word count : 5k

Rain was heavily falling that night, and your familiar, a black cat sitting next to you purring. Life as 24 year old witch in Seoul, but still a single 24 year old, life wasn’t that boring it was just that people were always asking you to introduce them to your boyfriend.. Hell who needs a boyfriend when their cousin is the king of Hell, or when your family is the known as the most powerful witches in this damn country ?

The smoke of your tea was long gone as the liquid turned cold, but a burnt smell came to your nostrils .. Park Chanyeol, the king of the under and your cousin.

‘’Hello cousin.

For the love of Satan, Chanyeol!’’ He laughed and take the place right next to you, taking off his crown. ‘’Hell is hella boring without you’’ he sighed.

The only thing you wanted to answer him was how earth was also a boring playground without him, and how Junmyeon wasn’t helping cause he probably was busy running the Academy of Unseen Arts.

You sighed, humans weren’t funny, working wasn’t funny, and plus your feet hurt, from working in Minseok’s small cafe. ‘’You’re a real drama queen Y/N’’ Said Chanyeol before readjusting his black oversized opened dress shirt. ‘’Go to a club, find a cute or bad boy looking guy and have some fun’’ He said picking up his bloody crown.

You couldn’t believe it, even your cousin was asking you to get .. well for the moment a one night stand, but still asking you to find a ‘someone’ ..

‘’Uh and before I forget honey, you may be a witch but black isn’t our only option here’ He disappeared before you could kill him or throw a pillow to his face.’’ -Unbelievable, was all you said after his exit.

You scanned your shelves full of spell books, ‘dark magic : a witchy way with demons’, other books about demons and others creatures you had to deal with, a big brown book caught your eyes and you smirk taking it in your hands. ‘’Boyfriend, here we meet’’ your cat meow looking at you ‘’I know buddy, but everyone says I should have someone so ..’’

To be real witches and wizards are known to have sex demons, and huge sexual orgies from time to time .. seriously what is the problem with witches and sex ?

Oh yeah Lilith was !

You find yourself in the bathroom that night, sculpting your future boyfriend in the wax of a few red candles. abs ? Check ! Cute looking butt ? Check ! Good look ? Check. Nice ?Also check !

‘’Let the doll sit in hot water for one to two days and your lover will be yours’’ you read out of the book.

The bathtub was full and ready, and your were casting the spell asking yourself the hell you were doing.

You clearly fell asleep, waiting to your full tub to see if anything would change .. but nope nothing really changed except the size of the wax doll, which was now a lot larger and not much looking like wax. Work was starting for another few hours but someone was ringing at your door at 9am. And the same someone didn’t wait for you to entered your apartment.

‘’Y/N? We know you’re here, the cat told us.’’ Aunties !

You exited your bathroom closing your door, they didn’t need to see your future love spell laying in hot water with rose petals !

‘’Aunties hi!’’ They both looked at you as if you were insane, well you totally looked like at the moment, your oversized black shirt, and dried mascara under your eyes !

‘’What are you doing ?’’

I’m creating my own boyfriend, cause people I work with, or I’m friend with ask me about my love life 24/7 .. nah you shouldn’t say that to your aunts or else they’ll kill you ..

‘’Nothing Aunt Zee ! I just need coffee cause I .. I .. Yeah coffee !’’

Both of your aunts looked at each other, but not in the suspicious way you tried to avoid, thanks Dark Lord ! ‘’Your cousin, ..’’ Aunt H started but you clearly were not listening to them. Looking at you bathroom door asking yourself a lot of question, does he has a name or you had to give him one ?

‘’Aunties, if you create someone out of .. never mind’’ you stopped yourself, they didn’t need to suspect you and your future « man »?

And the fact you wanted them out of here .. fast ! No need for them to see a stranger getting out of one of your rooms probably naked and confused !

You were bored to wait for anything to happen, and plus you received a text.

JUNMYEON:

You small witch, don’t forget about the Coven party in 2 days.

If you’re not here, I’ll kill u under the full moon babe xox

What a best friend ! You once again totally forgot about this little Coven thing at Minseok cafe he was hosting with Baekhyun.

Witches parties were always too much, even more if Byun Baekhyun was the one throwing the said party. Going back to the 50s (like literally), ghosts ..

To be honest you wanted your Saturday night to be a rerun of « Sabrina, the teenage witch » under a plaid on your couch with pizza, beer and tteokbokki, not a extravagant party with all your Coven.

BAEKHYUNIE:

Get ready for the night of your witchy spicy life, cause your god fairy mother (me!!)

got some friend who are single & ready to mingle !

YOU:

Baek, no more weird goblin or any magical creatures !

Plus you are late I’ve a date !

His only response was a few shocked emojis, and a few seconds later another text : I’m behind your door with food !

But Baekhyun, being Baekhyun he didn’t ring the bell and come into your home with a huge goofy smile on his lips.

‘’Don’t look at me like that, I’ve got your fav’’

Why everybody was coming to visit you today ? Normally your apartment was cozy and calm .. but not today ! For Satan’s love !

Baekhyun was one of your closest friend, but also a dark fairy and Chanyeol’s right arm.

And fairies loves to party way too much, it was in their personality ! But the cutest thing was his pointy ears.

‘’ So, my lil friend got herself a date ?’’

And fairy were all about gossips! You simply smiled and nodded at your friend. No need to say too much !

‘’Sooo ..’’ You tried to start another conversation ‘’ How is hell today ?’’

He lifted one of his eyebrow ‘’ Yeol was here last night, don’t try to escape my questions woman’’

Maybe you should have stuff your mouth with rice and onions !

Your fairy friend talked and talked, asking you a few questions about your date for the party. You nodded and made a few ‘’oh!’’ ‘’mhmm’’ but must importantly you were eating and trying to avoid his questions.

Until that one moment when Baekhyun suddenly stopped talking, and was looking behind you his mouth wide open.

‘’Sorry babe, I was a bit long’’

Babe ? You turned in your sit and your eyes dropped to a towel, one of your black towel hanging low on some hips, well defined hips to say, and as your eyes were going up to see who that was, you followed a happy trail, your mouth watered at the sight, happy trail being one of your weakness in a man. After his define stomach and sun kissed glowing skin. His heart shaped lips looked so kissable and full, his dark eyes hided behind tick black frame of glasses. God he was beautiful, more than that to be honest, his voice sounded like honey to your ears, his cute hand slowly scratching the back of his head. You watched a few drop of water running on his chest.

Next you saw a lot of beauty marks on his naked skin, a galaxy of beauty marks. The man got you hypnotized with one sentence, this spell was something !

‘’Hey, you must be Baekhyun ! Y/N told me about you’’ you were drinking his every words just like Baekhyun was. ‘’I’m Do Kyungsoo’’

Dark lord even his name sounded so heavenly (damn for a dark lord follower, you think a lot about heaven right now), after his introduction he excused himself to get dress.

‘’Is this your date ?’’ Murmured Baekhyun with too much excitement ‘’Damn girl you just hit the lotto !’’

Your first few days with Kyungsoo was surprisingly good, he already known a lot about you. Because to created him you dropped some drops of blood in the potion.

You asked silly questions to Kyungsoo, just to get to know him better: ‘’Bubble tea or Iced coffee ?’’ sure he was your creation but he still has his own personality. Your afternoon been filled with laughs, his hand in your hair, under your shirt, and finally you naked on top of him. His hands on your hips left some marks just like his plump lips and teeth drew love bites on your collarbone and others behind your ear. Your long black nails left marks on his back from the pleasure .. hell this man gonna be the end of your sanity !

‘’I’m glad you bring me to life’’ his arm was wrapped around your waist, and his lips continued their way in the back on your neck. You never expect anything with this incantation, you never expect the perfect man to came to life in your bathtub but here you were laying under your sheet naked, with Kyungsoo showing his love to you. Drawing abstract shapes on your skin, following your own moles creating a galaxy with his fingers.

Your friends and family were totally shocked to see him next to you, the Saturday night at the Coven party.

Even your aunt fell under his spell, and Chanyeol almost gave him his throne. Kyungsoo always had an answer to every questions about your relationship, his hand never left your side that night, or you find his lips on your cheek every other times.

Do Kyungsoo might be the result of your spell, but you totally were under his.

Days with Kyungsoo were sweet, full of adventures and funny. Sex was insanely good, (yes might be a witch thing but thanks Lilith) the feeling of his hand tracing your body, or even his lips on your skin. Or just his eyes on you were making you feel like the most wanted woman on the earth, Kyungsoo has his ways.

His moles were your favorite thing to kiss after his pillowy lips, but the must was the little mole on his top lip. And for Kyungsoo his lips found their home right under your breast, on ink saying ‘Witch’ he always said your tattoo was full of sarcasm.

Were you suppose to fall to your own creation ?

Your cat was laying on your bed, his head in Kyungsoo’s hand as his was caressing him. You watched him laying underneath your sheet, his chest on full display as your bedding was on his hips hiding a bit of his nakedness. ‘’You know I think he quite like you’’ you said to him ‘’Yeah he is purring, and I like him too .. he is like a part of you’’

You smiled looking at them, the sun was hitting Kyungsoo’s skin in all the right place making you craving him again, on the spot. His skin against yours, his finger interlaced with yours, his low groans .. he was hotter than hell.

Your black familiar exited the room as soon as you found a place on your mattress. ‘’You look cute with my shirt on’’ his hands traveled under the cotton of the shirt, tracing the shape of your chest. He smelled so nice just like lavender and woodland (a/n: if you ever smelled ‘autumn night’ by yankee candle this is the smell I’m talking about), everything about him was comforting, cozy and making you feel somehow safe. His lips right underneath your left ear, his right hand playing with the side of your black laced panty.

He was addicting just like a drug, now he was in your life you couldn’t imagine not having him anymore. Kyungsoo became a part of you, like a missing piece of puzzle and thanks to magic you finally completed the puzzle.

The way he made you feel was crazy, almost too crazy to be real. His breath hitting your neck made you moan even more than his hands running your body, and his length hitting every spots.

Days were brighter than before, spring was almost there cherry blossom were about to bloom, just like you now. And the night getting warmer but for once your bed felt empty and kind of cold without the raven haired boy sleeping next to you.

‘’Y/N ! ARE YOU ISANE ????’’

You woke up to Chanyeol screaming and tearing off his black hair. ‘’Yeol it’s 3 am, the fuck you want now ?’’ You asked, ready to kill him.

‘’Do Kyungsoo ? Huh ?? More like Roh Kisoo ! I can’t believe you invoke a freaking ghost to pretend to be your fucking fuck buddy’’

What ? A ghost ? Fuck buddy ? You were lost, totally lost and you cousin still panicked in front of your bed. ‘’ A ghost, what ? Who’s a ghost ?’’ He sighed loudly. ‘’Cousin, the aunties will legit kill you’’

Your only question was ‘who the fuck is Roh Kisoo ?’ He sighed once again before showing a beige folder (there’s folder in hell ? Anyway that is not the question)

‘’Cousin, he is dead, Do Kyungsoo isn’t real his name was Roh Kisoo, North Korean soldier. He used to tap dance, he was killed because he was about to kill an American soldier on stage’’

You couldn’t believe what Chanyeol was telling you .. you did not invoke a dead soldier, you created him out of wax. ‘’Chanyeol .. I created him. I do not fuck with dead’’

He stopped all his talking to look at you, dead in the eyes (no joke here). Your knees were against your chest as you sit on your mattress, ‘’He lied to me’’ you said softly. Your eyes filled with tears, you couldn’t believe you fell in love with your creation but he seemed so human, probably too human you were now thinking .. cause he been alive once.

Chanyeol wrapped his arms around you, even the king of hell could not bear to see his cousin and best friend crying. ‘’Love, do-does his heart beat ?’’ You looked up at him not really understanding why would it change if his heart was beating or not ? ‘’ If his heart beat, it means two things .. one he has feeling for you and second h-he .. he would become human, 100% human once again and believe his past life is just a dream .. Well his memories of the war and all being a dream’’

‘’And y/n..’’ He started again ‘’ you were in his past life .. his lover actually even if he never confessed or anything to you he loved you as Roh Kisoo .. that’s why he came to you as you created him’’

He put his hands on your eyes, and suddenly flashes of images, of him with shaved hair, kaki clothes, tap dancing, working on things, him stealing a kiss, stealing one of your kiss I the board of daylight, your death with two others persons you didn’t know and finally his own death.

The perk of being the king of hell was having ‘infos’ about people’s previous lives, and Chanyeol was shoving you Kyungsoo past life.

After your cousin exit, you didn’t sleep that night. You felt so small at the time watching the night lights by your window, thinking about everything that happened for the last two months of your life.. getting him, feeling happy and in love (a thing you never felt or lived before), how were you supposed to say all these things to Kyungsoo ?

Were you supposed to giving him up ? Send him back (yeah but were ?) ? Make him human ?

That morning Junmyeon made fun of you ‘looking like a panda’.

‘’ Y/N ?’’ He been calling your name for the last five minutes but your mind was anywhere but in Minseok’s cafe, jumping from memories to memories you created for the last 2 months.

The light was hitting your living room, a cup of coffee in your hand as you sit on your couch right next to Kyungsoo who was reading one your book. At the time everything felt right, as you were looking at him forgetting your cup in your hands, trying to find a single thing on him that was wrong .. but nothing was wrong.

‘’You know, I’ll not disappear love’’ you chuckled at his words, fearing that yes someday he’ll be gone.

His hand find it place on your knee, and his lips on your temple was comforting you and made you blush as a teenager.

At the time everything was simpler, you needed help .. but from who ?

You couldn’t bear to see Kyungsoo, not knowing how you’ll react in front of him, what to tell him, would you kiss him ? Let him make love to you ? Slap him ? Fall apart ? Break his heart ? (you didn’t know if his heart was beating .. if he was human or just the memory of his past life in wax)

YOU:

We need to talk aunties.

You were adult and you needed to face your mistakes, and you were finally doing it. The drive to your aunt’s was the longest it ever was and you felt heavy.

You spent a long time sitting in your car before entering the house, feeling a lot of shame, heartbroken, facing your mistake was harder than expected.

The second you saw your aunts you couldn’t keep your feelings together and start crying.

‘’ Chanyeol told us Y/N and even if your aunt wanted to scold you .. it’s not right to do now’’ started one of your aunt.

Aunt Zee was smoking but not saying anything, you knew she was disappointed. You felt totally out of place if you teleport yourself in a volcano you would to it right away.

‘’ I suppose Chanyeol explain you, the two options you have ?’’ Was Aunt Zee first worlds, you nodded.

‘’ If his heart beat or not, I could send him back or I can make him human.. ’’ your were stop by Aunt H ‘’ If you make him human, you know he’ll not remember you and what you both lived’’

Hearing that broke your heart even more, he couldn’t forget you if wasn’t right.

‘’ But he will kind of stay connected to you, as he has a part of you being your magic. So he is and will be a wizard.’’ Said your second aunt.

All you needed was time, a thing you didn’t have. One last time with him before choosing send him back or making him human and forget everything about you.

‘’But most important if his heart is beating, your trace will forever haunt him. Without him know why and who you are, love’’ said Aunt H, caressing your arm as comfort.

‘’ I can’t kill him’’

Yours aunties listened to you, telling them why and how to ‘created’ him, how happy he was making you, how human he seemed and now you knew why .. you told them everything, even wishing you had a last night with him.

Aunt Zee granted your wish, but tomorrow morning you had to say goodbye to love.

You never expected finding him dressed in his favorite black jumper and his ripped bleu jeans cooking in your kitchen with a glass full of white wine waiting for you next to his.

Your eyes filled with tears when his scent hit you, your head on his chest. ‘’ Let’s stay like this for a moment, please’’ you didn’t want him to see you like that.

The smile dancing on his lips broke you inside one more time, he looked so innocent in front of you, not knowing, almost like a child.

‘’You know babe, tonight there’s a shower of shooting stars let’s watch it’’ Yixing told him, even if he never met the Chinese wizard in real like they met on FaceTime, your friend was crazy when Baekhyun, once mentioned you had someone.

You simply nodded, even of shooting stars couldn’t help you this time.

The time moved so fast as if it was teasing you, your eyes never left Kyungsoo, too afraid to forgot him or to miss a beauty mark or the way his eyes were when he was smiling, looking at you.

Looking at him was the hardest thing you had ever done that night, you were giving up on him and you couldn’t say anything.

The view from the balcony of your appartement was incredible but the only thing you watched was him not the stars traveling the dark sky.

Even the moon seems ridiculous next to him, his glasses sat on his nose and his hair was a bit longer, his fringe hitting the frame of the glasses softly.

He turned his head to look at you, his hand caressed your cheek and his lips collided on yours, his kiss was full of passion, slow. Time stopped when his lips met yours, and you felt his heart pounded underneath your hand.

His heart was beating ..

‘’ .. I love you’’ His eyes were still closed and his lips still so closed to yours, and his thumb caressing your face.

Once again his lips crashed on yours, more intense this time. Yours hands holding the material of his jumper. ‘’Don’t ever forget about me’’ you whisper. His fingers slipped under the coton of your shirt, he pulled you even closer to him, as if no one else in the world existed. ‘’Never’’ you knew his answer was a lie but you needed it.

The time actually stopped at that moment the last time he made love to you, the stars and clouds were not moving and no sounds were heard, a spell to stop time was dangerous and only a powerful witch could to do but at the time it was your last priority.

It was the softest Kyungsoo ever showed you the way he loved you, he was taking his time with you that night as if he knew it was surely the last time. Looking at you his eyes were full of stars and his hands felt like velvet on your skin.

That night you refused to fall asleep, your head stayed on his chest listening to his heartbeat, his words playing over and over in your head, the way he confessed on that night was the hardest to accepted to you.

CHANYEOL:

I’m sorry cousin,

I tried to give a little bit more with him.

He make you happy I know.

You left your bed after reading the text to finally cried yourself to sleep in your bathroom, your hand on your mouth trying to muffled the sound.

The floor was freezing when you woke up, everything felt freezing in your house, in your body. Once you remembered, tears were running your cheeks and this time you didn’t shut yourself and screamed in agony.

He was gone.

He was gone and you were alone.

The first week was the hardest, you didn’t left your room and the last piece of him that was the shirt you wore that night.

The tissue did not smelled like him anymore.

Every day, every hour you were waiting for him to open your door arms full of bags from the grocery store ready to cook you something.

Chanyeol, yours aunts, Yixing, everyone tried to contact you, but you never answered them.

Every night Chanyeol wait for you to sleep and came, he was feeling guilty and you were his best friend. Every night he did the same, he tucked you and stroked your hair. Hoping one day you would be able to find peace with yourself, but that wasn’t the only thing on his plan !

You sat at your kitchen bar, you computer in front of you but all you did was staring at your window, your chin resting in your left hand.

You didn’t even watch Chanyeol sitting right in front of you searching something in one of his books. ‘’Cousin, aren’t you suppose to do mails stuff ?’’

‘’Chanyeol, aren’t you suppose to do king of hell stuffs?’’ Your sarcasm did in fact burn like hell !

‘’You know I became the king of underworld, so you selfishly could stay on earth and do selfish human things as the bratty witch you are’’

Why was Chanyeol even here at this point ? He wasn’t wrong, to be honest. All you did for the last few days was crying, sleeping, and being a brat to everyone who tried to help you what so ever.

‘’Cousin, life have so much to offer’’

‘’Fake, life sucks and I feel so done with it’’ He sighed loudly, feeling done with you.

Ignoring yours friends, cousin, aunts was purely selfish and you knew it but at this point you clearly didn’t give a damn .. but at the same time it was your fault and only your fault, if you didn’t use this spell, just to shut people and their needs to talk about your life.

It’s been 3 weeks, the first been the miserable one, the two second mark the start of the ‘new you’.

You were purely self-destructive at this point, losing Kyungsoo hurt you but what you did to yourself was worst. Invoking sex demons, trying spell to not feel anything, everything was good to ‘make you forget’.

‘’You know Sehun, fuck Satan and all that witchy shit’’

You were clearly drunk, and Sehun knew he shouldn’t give you anymore drinks but his pub had the best reputation with the witch population of Seoul, you lost the count of drinks you already drank.

‘’ You probably should go at home and sleep Y/N, I dont need the king of Hell to come and kill me’’

‘’Chanyeol ? He can kiss my ass ! Y’all can kiss my ass’’ your drunk behavior wasn’t a pretty sight.

After that Sehun didn’t understand a word you said, you were half crying, half mumbling. Poor bartender did not has the choice but to call Chanyeol to have an explanation and to get you back at your apartment.

‘’ Y/N you can’t live your life off ‘not feeling anything’ spells’’

Cold water woke you up, you stood in you shower fully clothed and your cousin holding the shower head.

‘’Why the hell are you doin’ that ?’’

‘’You asshole, needed a wake up call’’

Chanyeol was tired of seeing you being a danger to yourself, and decided enough was enough.

The heavy weight on your shoulders dropped suddenly and you body followed dropping in your cousin’s arms. ‘’ I just miss him so much Yeol’’

He watched tears rolling on your cheeks, not saying anything but his hand caressing your back.

Even if lives are connected Chanyeol couldn’t guarantee Kyungsoo’s comeback, your two souls might be connected since the beginning but the way they forced Kyungsoo into his human form couldn’t guarantee anything about their futur or life together. But he couldn’t tell you all that, like he couldn’t say he was following the man everyday.

And that you left your mark on him, he was now a wizard.

‘’ I’m here Y/N you can sleep’’

He laid you down on your bed, caressing your hair and projecting dreams in your head to give you a break, Chanyeol was the king of Hell, but he was hurt seeing his best friend and cousin living like that, he was ready to fight anyone so you could be happy again and to see you eyes full of stars just like when you were looking at Kyungsoo.

Chanyeol always knew that Kyungsoo’s heart was beating he felt it the first time he met him. And right after that he started his search about the man.

After that night you practically lived in the academy, teaching younger witches just like your aunts wanted. Reading books to perfect your magic. ‘’You know since you came to the academy everything seems simpler’’ Said your colleague Jongdae ‘’ Kids seems to like having one of the most powerful witch of the century teaching them stuffs’’ You nodded.

‘’Sorry Jongdae but I’m taking my cousin out for lunch’’

Chanyeol took you to Chinatown, celebrating one of his friend opening his own restaurant .. who were you to say no to free food ?

Lunch was nice, a private room for the two of you and all the best food on the menu. ‘’So the academy ?’’

‘’It’s good, kids are funny .. Yeol did you .. like killed someone for this guy ?’’

He laughed a bit too much ‘’ Not, it’s a guy a met not long ago and we became friends .. he is like us ‘magic’ he’ll come to see us’’

You nodded, finishing you plate and drinking a bit of the Chinese whisky that was left in your cup.

Chanyeol left you to go the to toilet, what type of cousin is he ? He need to go to the toilet when his friend was supposed to met the two of you ? Asshole !

The door opened and your phone vibrated at the same time a text from you cousin, why was he sending you a text when coming back in the private room ?

CHANYEOL:

I find him for you ..

Who did he find for you ?

‘’Chanyeol ?’’ You knew the voice, you once again felt the time stop when you turned around finding .. Do Kyungsoo in a chef attire.

Do Kyungsoo was the friend of Chanyeol, the one he wanted you to meet ..

‘’You are ?’’ Right he forgot about you. ‘’Oh yeah you’re Y/N .. Chanyeol told me a lot about you and you’re like the most powerful in our coven’’

A single tear rolled onto your cheek, you find him .. he was in front of you.

You finally find him, thanks to Chanyeol.

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