#when they know delivery is going to be delayed. like if it bothered half these ppl that much theyd actually do something
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My Dread Lady, Chapter 40
Mail and mail-not-ordered deliveries abound in Azeroth.
”Pained?”
”Yes?”
”Don’t get too worked up now, but I am seriously thinking of going away again for a short time…abroad, so to say.”
”I suppose I should draw My Lady’s attention to my ominously lowered brows.” Pained pointed at the impression she made of a seriously displeased tauren. ”Does the notably vague term ’abroad’ in this case refer to Lordaeron?”
”No, as a matter of fact no.” Jaina ignored the slight flush of her cheeks. ”I was rather thinking of Ashenvale in fact. It strikes me that it was a long time since I last wrote to Tyrande and if she have found out that I have gone missing she may be very worried.”
Pained cleared her throat and looked a little guilty.
”Hm, yes, that might be very prudent.”
”Pained, if it was you who had disappeared I would send Tyrande a panicked letter within half a week.”
”I assure you I delayed until at least a whole week after your disappearance. By which time I had received your not altogether reassuring note, My Lady.”
”Considering the circumstances I assure you it was the best I was able to put together. Poor you, it can’t have been easy waiting here without any way of knowing what went on with me in Lordaeron. Just being on the writing end and not knowing if anyone is actually reading is taxing enough.”
”Well, so long as My Lady does not speak to any strange satyrs and remembers to notify the rest of the party when she feels the urge to stop to look at every interesting creature or flower…”
”That one has your nose.”
”That one definitely has your chin.”
”And your belly.”
”And your ass.”
It was a cold, cloudy and windy day in Lordaeron. It did not bother anyone in the group especially much.
”They should both feel right at home then, shouldn’t they?” Kalira remarked dryly over the habitual bickering. ”When they join their respective ranger squadrons we would so hate for anyone to feel like they stood out, wouldn’t we?”
Two squadrons’ worth of rangers turned to look with palpable suspicion and not a little apallment at Cyndia’s commander.
”Their uniforms will prove a hassle though…” Kalira continued to muse. ”I guess we will simply have to stitch a dozen or so cloaks together. And then to stealth training…”
Now she was faced with more than one grimace.
”Noble Commander, it is all well and good that you have discovered this new sense of humour thing…” Lenara begun.
”…but could you make it just a little less twisted?” Nara filled in with a shudder. ”Abominations in a ranger squadron is not something we joke about – ever, understand?”
#sylvaina#jaina proudmoore#sylvanas windrunner#warcraft 3#world of warcraft#fanfic#sylvanas x jaina#dark rangers#dwarves#archive of our own#fanfiction#hurt/comfort
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Congratulations, Ava - you’ve been accepted for the role of Percy Weasley. Please submit your link to the main within 24 hours of this post in order to lock in your role.
Please make sure to follow everyone on the follow list here, and look out for an invite to the OOC Discord channel!
All that said…
Welcome to Rookwood Academy.
OOC INFORMATION:
Name: Ava
Pronouns: she/her
Age: 23
Time Zone: GMT+1
Ships: Chemistry; will favor Penelope Clearwater + Oliver Wood.
Kinks: Orgasm denial/edging; mild bondage; cuckolding; toys; praise + open to discussion.
Anti-Kinks: scat, vore, injury/disfigurement, anything that is or emulates lack of consent // might be added onto.
IC INFORMATION:
Character: Percival "Percy" Ignatius Weasley
Birthday: August 22nd, 2000
FC: Harris Dickinson
Sexuality: Demi-Bisexual
Role: Dominant
Wand: 13 & 1/4 , Vine, Dragon Heartstring
Biography:
In many, many ways, his parents, his siblings — even Ron, Hermione and Harry — have an easy war. Hidden and on the run, their chance encounters with Death Eaters are few and far between, often in places they can simply Apparate out of. At the Ministry, Percy clocks in every day not knowing if it’ll be the last he lives.
It’s an exhausting sort of existence, but he plays his cards well, developing a fame for wide-eyed subservience — the estranged son of a blood traitor, overeager to legitimise his pureblood status once again. Adjectives like naïve and harmless follow him around, cloaking Percy in the rare kind of immunity only usually afforded to the truly ignorant. Slipping between shadows, he takes calculated risks and collects scraps of information, salvaging every useful — or condemning — bit of paper that he can. The darkest days of the Ministry of Magic often go like this. It's a quiet sort of resistance, bureaucracy: wielding it like a wand, employees cite the same “incomplete forms” no one would’ve batted an eye at just months before, effectively delaying new legislation. Nobody works extra hours, no one clocks in early, everyone takes their full days’ vacation. The muggleborn / halfblood purge leaves plenty of offices empty, and nobody bothers to make up their work. It piles on vacant desks for weeks, until the Death Eaters find some willing pureblood kid and plop them down on the chair with no training. They flounder. The proposition to amend the classification of Muggles from Beings to Beasts is sent back for revision no less than thirteen times, citing “grammar errors" some days and "ambiguous punctuation" the others. It goes mostly unpunished. It's clear very few of the purebloods the Death Eaters stationed at the Ministry have any inkling of how a government institution should run. Mostly, they just issue themselves raises and pay for extravagant meals out of the Ministry's coffers.
Midway through October, Percy’s sent to oversee the tipline. He makes eye contact with an individual he vaguely recalls as the Ravenclaw Prefect a year below him, and thanks every star in Merlin’s saggy y-fronts when he can’t for the life of him remember their name. A week later, arrest warrants for muggle-borns and half-breeds start making it to his desk. Colin Creevey, Janice Pepper, Ernie Entwhistle… Slipped between minutes of meetings, transfigured into a-quill-too-many on his desk, tucked into sandwiches delivered in brown paper bags. Percy takes advantage of the chaos the simultaneous muggle and wizarding wars of the 1940s had left Ministry records in to tweak family trees. And when he can’t fake a wizard into someone’s bloodline, he pays a visit to the Hog’s Head — after all, who’ll begrudge him a drink after work? He walks in, buys a beer, and heads to the dingy little bathroom in the back. Later, Aberforth Dumbledore will lift up the floorboards to find, in neat little bundles, delivery addresses, pages upon pages of fake documentation, and perfectly legal Portkey permissions — all signed by the nice bloke down at the Portkey office.
In March, Percy performs his first memory charm. Andrew Lefevre admits to treason under Cruciatus. He's suspended from the Magic is Might monument in the Atrium and publicly subjected to the Kiss. Percy takes off his glasses and blesses his farsightedness that he is not witness to it. (The screams — and his nightmares — make up every missed detail.)
They don’t talk about the things Percy did during the War. His family doesn’t ask — assuming he’d cowered behind his desk and buried his nose in his work —, and Percy doesn’t correct them. There's no point bringing it up in defeat. It’s safer for everyone involved that they don’t know about the thousands upon thousands of classified documents in his vault at Gringotts, just waiting for the opportunity to be useful: years of incriminating evidence against colourful characters like Dolores Umbridge; originals of every record he’d modified and faked in order to provide muggle-borns and half-bloods a claim to the magic they were being accused of stealing.
When they lose, and conditions are laid out, Percy bites the bullet. His family already hates him, after all; as far as anyone's aware, he's been an exemplary employee at the Death Eater Ministry. He spins a tale the size of which an Acromantula might be proud of: that he’d intended only to find his siblings and get them out, knowing he could change their minds. That in the heat of the moment they wouldn’t hear any of it, so brainwashed by his parents’ blind faith in Potter. When the Battle broke out, the Death Eaters had attacked him as they would have any other Weasley, and he’d had no choice but to fight them in order to continue living.
Percy pledges his allegiance to the Dark Lord, taking the only deal that'll allow him any agency over the fate of his family. As it turns out, said family endorsing the rumours of his spineless cowardice makes for a heck of an alibi.
When he was younger, Percy often wished that people around him would heed his warnings and requests — that his brothers stopped taking his things without permission; that Ron didn't throw himself in harm’s way for Harry Potter; that First Years stopped running in the halls and playing lightsabers with their wands. But this? This is perverse, a violation of autonomy and free will, and Percy couldn’t care less that he’s the one giving the orders. Once they dismiss him, red band tied around his wand, Percy rushes to the nearest toilet and promptly empties his stomach into it.
Then he's told he needs to go back to school. Lovely.
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thinking about the anti-union sentiment in the uk rn
#like. practically every job sector either is on strike or is planning on striking#and ppl still have the audacity to blame it on the unions being when pay is only part of the problem#but also. stop complaining abt the mail and rail strikes there are literally ways to have them not be an inconvenience to you if you wanted#train strikes preventing you from getting around ? coaches exist ! and theyre cheaper. if u absolutely must travel#and considering how many ppl complain abt the death of the high street or whatever they sure arent going out and buying stuff in person#when they know delivery is going to be delayed. like if it bothered half these ppl that much theyd actually do something#other than sit and moan on facebook calling workers who need a pay rise in a cost of living crisis greedy#(which leaves out the fact that the rail companies & royal mail are planning on cutting loads of jobs which is also what the strikes r abt)
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I have a prompt. Thirteen's vain attempt to get that fez to Eleven because she runs into River+Amy.. who are like NOPE no way.
Ohh I love this so much, that was a lot of fun! I really hope you like this, just a bit of fun! <3
Rating: G
Word Count: 1300
Read on AO3 or below
Delayed Delivery
“I don't know about you but I’m glad that’s over.�� Yaz sighed once they had returned to the TARDIS. Their excursion to Kablam! had been quite something.
“Same,“ Ryan agreed and Graham nodded as well:
“Me too.“
“Not quite over yet.“ The Doctor grinned when she spotted the fez she had ordered, still sitting on top of the TARDIS console. “The fez!“ She skipped over to it and sat it on top of her head with incredible joy.
“Yeah I did wonder about that, why a fez?“ Yaz asked, as its origin remained a mystery.
“I ordered it,“ the Doctor declared, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“You ordered a fez?“ Graham repeated, trying to figure out what in the world could have possibly possessed her to do so.
“Why?“ Ryan asked bewildered.
“Why does anyone order a fez? Because fezes are cool.“ The Doctor grinned and put her hands on her hips, holding her head - and the fez - high with pride.
“They’re really not…“ Yaz shook her head slowly, wondering how she could possibly have come to that conclusion.
“Only, this one arrived too late.“ The Doctor paid no heed to her comment, instead she went looking for the box and the shipping receipt to make sure her memory was correct. “Ah yes, see, I ordered it like… two lifetimes ago?“ She shrugged and looked back to her friends. “The wedding night of my best friends. Had little else to do, just sitting around the TARDIS while they were busy.“ She gestured quotation marks in the air and grimaced. “I should probably drop it off with my past self, that would have made me so happy.“ She placed the box on the console, took the fez off, quite reluctantly too, and placed it back in the box. She almost took it back out again, thinking better of it, but she managed to stop herself and quickly closed the box to resist the temptation.
“If you had… wouldn’t you remember it?“ Yaz frowned.
“Nah, memories blur when I cross my own time stream.“ The Doctor shrugged.
“Aren’t there like… rules against that sort of thing?“ Ryan asked and they all gathered around the console as the Doctor was beginning to set coordinates.
“All we’re doing is dropping off a fez, won’t even need to interact, just got to find a good time where I know where I am and that I won’t run into any trouble… here we go.“ Content with her choice, the Doctor grinned and launched the TARDIS into the time vortex. It only took a moment for them to land again.
“Where are we?“ Graham asked as the Doctor marched to the door, full of purpose, box in hand.
“Moon made of actual honey. Part of the honeymoon tour. Get it honey… moon…?“ She awaited a reaction to her pun but no-one responded. “Never mind,“ she huffed and opened the door. The Fam followed her and as advertised, they found themselves on a yellow moon, surrounded by little else than beeswax and honey. The landscape was magnificent and the vegetation extraordinary. No words appeared adequate to describe the wondrous place.
“Wow…“ All three of them were at a loss for words as they looked around, it certainly appeared a magnificent honeymoon destination. The air was impossible sweet and warm and there was a humming and buzzing in the air originating from the native bee population.
While the Fam were in awe, the Doctor skipped ahead and found the other TARDIS, her TARDIS but much older, just over a ridge.
“There we go…“ she called the Fam who hurried after her. “See, all we need to do is put this box here and…“
“Don’t move,“ a sharp voice interrupted her. “What are you doing over there?“
“Probably setting down a bomb, who are you?“ Another voice added and the Doctor grinned to herself before turning around, she knew both these voices very well indeed.
“River!“ The Doctor turned to look at her wife who - of course - was pointing a gun at her. “Amy!“ Her mother was right next to her, crossing her arms in front of her chest, with an almighty and very Scottish scowl.
“How do you…?“ Amy’s face fell upon hearing both their names and River raised her eyebrows curiously.
“Who are they, Doctor?“ Yaz asked, a little worried at the presence of a gun and the fact that the Doctor didn’t seem bothered about it at all. In fact she was grinning!
“Oh just… my wife and my mother-in-law…“ She answered joyfully.
“What?“ Amy stared at her for a moment, trying to compute the information.
“Doctor?“ River echoed and as the realisation set in, a wide grin spread across her features, mirroring her wife’s expression.
“Oh no…“ Amy groaned.
“Oh yes!“ River smirked as she put her gun away.
“Hang on, you’re married?“ Graham interrupted, flabbergasted, as were Yaz and Ryan.
“Oh most definitely.“ River grinned and was by her wife’s side in an instant, she grabbed her by the collar and kissed her with great enthusiasm. Amy, for her part, just gave an exaggerated sigh, looking anywhere but to her daughter making out with her wife.
“Okay, I sort of expected this to be the other way around…“ Ryan hummed to Yaz and Graham who nodded.
“What are you doing here, Doctor?“ Amy asked, clearing her throat loudly to interrupt them.
“Oh just… wanted to drop something off… for myself… am I around?“ The Doctor gave an awkward grin, trying not to draw too much attention to the box, as she half hid it behind her back.
“Rory fell in the honey lake and the Doctor is defending him against the bees, we were popping back for a change of clothes.“ Amy explained, rolling her eyes at her husband’s clumsiness.
“Oh I remember this!“ Her explanation jogged the Doctor’s memory.
“Do you get your fez at the end of it?“ Yaz asked curiously and the Doctor winced. She had ruined it.
“Don’t tell me…“ Amy sighed, exasperated.
“What’s in the box, Sweetie?“ River asked, trying to snatch the box away but the Doctor pulled away quickly.
“Nothing…“ She retorted, hugging it protectively.
“Doctor?“ Amy crossed her arms in front of her chest and the Doctor found herself cornered by the two women, she bumped into the TARDIS behind her, having nowhere to go.
“Oh come on, please, I’ve had to wait for this for millennia, that’s how long delivery took, let me have this,“ she pleaded.
“Let’s see if it’s any better on you now than it was then,“ River suggested with a playful smirk.
“River?“ Amy shot her daughter a look as if she couldn’t believe she had really just suggested that.
“Come on, just let us see,“ River repeated and a grin spread across the Doctor’s face. She opened the box, pulled the fez out and sat it on top of her head.
“Look, it’s great, it’s red and hey-!“ Before she could even properly showcase the hat, Amy had snatched it off of her head and chucked it into the air. River’s reflexes were sharp as ever as she drew her gun and shot it. The fez exploded mid-air in a laser blast.
“That was incredible,“ Ryan exclaimed and shaking their heads in disbelief, Graham and Yaz had to agree.
“Yeah, well, we have the practice,“ River smirked, holstering her gun and before she pressed a kiss to her wife’s cheek. The Doctor was thoroughly put out as she was left holding the empty box.
“I’m gonna order another one…“ She huffed, somewhat genuinely upset.
“Hey! OI! What’s going on over there?“ A voice carried across the plain. The Doctor, much younger, taller and bow-tied, was waving at them with Rory in tow.
“NOTHING!“ River and Amy called back, laughing, sharing a high five, as the blonde Doctor was left, huffing, and holding her empty box with great disappointment.
#Doctor Who#river x the doctor#river x thirteen#thirteen/river#space wives#river song#thirteen#thirteenth doctor#fluff#banter#prompt#fanfiction#yowzah#amy pond
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It’s... pretty complicated
CHAPTER 2
FORMALITY
Chapter 1
General summary: College dramas in the life of a third-year student who decides to start, not a relationship, but something with a renowned professor.
Summary: After going out for some time comes the time to define with certainty what is going on between you two.
Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x FemReader
Word count: 5454
Warnings: Content only for over 18s, mentions of insecurity, a bit of nervousness and unprotected sex.
Notes: Sorry to delay in uploading the content, it is somewhat short but I hope you like it, I am open to any comment or suggestion, thanks for reading me.
Not my GIF, credits to whom it may concern.
It had been two months since you started dating Tom, things were going quite well, both managed to be the perfect team in almost everything, you had even finished the project for which you had started to have this relationship.
After a few days when Tom insisted, you agreed to have a key to his apartment, being honest you loved the action but you didn't want him to think that things were going too fast or that you were too invasive, but he really wanted you to have it, so you agreed. He also already knew your apartment, quite smaller than his but still cozy.
”It's pretty cute" Tom looked at you from the dining room while you were on the living room floor looking like a 10-year-old girl learning to use acrylics.
” I feel like it's not completely good " You watched the painting from different perspectives, you prepared it for the university culture week where students compete in various areas such as music, dance, poetry, and even painting.
"Don't be so modest, it's perfect” he stood up and went to the kitchen for paper towels to start cleaning up all your mess.
”You know you're dating with a perfectionist, " you laughed as you saw that all your legs, hands, even your face were full of paint, but you felt pretty, just wearing one of his shirts and your sneakers.
"Oh come on, in that case you wouldn't go out with me, I'm a mess” Very carefully began to wipe your face full of paint.
"Yes, but you're my mess" You accidentally took his face and stained it just like you "And sometimes disasters are prettier than perfect things"
” You're totally beautiful Y/N " Both smiled as you shared a look of complicity and mutual desire.
He carefully began to slide his hands down your legs, at first with the intention of cleaning up the mess of paint that was on your body, however with the rubbing of his fingers on your thighs as he lifted the shirt showing part of your body more than necessary, both knew that this would not just end in a routine cleaning.
For a moment as his fingers touched your skin directly you came closer to him and slid your hand down his neck, right in the places where you knew he would fall under your charm.
After a gaze of complicity, he began to kiss your legs with too much lust , that you could only end up lying on the floor with a curved back, you thanked internally that the only thing you wore under that shirt was lingerie easy to remove.
"Fuck, I want you all the fucking time, this is starting to worry me." With force he spread your legs and kneeling right in front of you he began to unbutton his shirt while you from the ground watched him with your restless breath.
"I told you, you're dating with a fucking perfectionist." You wanted to start unbuttoning your shirt, but with a sharp look and a quick move, he took your hand from yourself, even put your hands over your head with one of his hands as a sign that you couldn't move them.
"This time I command" In a sense excites you even more that position of took full control even over your movements and he saw it through your eyes.
With the intention of generating more desire in your eyes and heat in your body with a delicate touch and taking care that the fingertips slide down all your legs I remove your underwear. You moaned with the touch and put your hands in your eyes as you began to tremble.
” I knew you were excited by my touch, but not so much, " he roared in a voice so deep that you knew that with just this you began to get wet like never before.
"Please Tom" You bit one of your hands while throwing a look of complete need, he saw you for a few seconds with the intention of making you see that he was in charge this time, but still he could not resist to please you.
"Your wishes are orders" He took your legs and placed them on his shoulders as he began to lick your stomach while two of his fingers were inserted inside you so your back curved again just with the entrance. The kisses as well as the rhythm of his fingers began to get more and more desperate, you knew that your moans began to get stronger with each crossroads, and just as he inserted the third finger you felt that you would cum
” You must wait" he roared as he withdrew from you leaving you with half-breath. ”Fuck, even needy, you look perfect."
He began to lick and kiss your entrance at the same time as he played with his hands between your thighs and hips, you could only give sudden pulls of his hair while with the other hand you covered your moans.
”I can't, not anymore" You begged for your release as tears began to come out of the huge climax you were feeling.
"Do it for me" Fiddled a little with your hip as you cum completely feeling an overwhelming release.
After a few seconds you managed that your breathing would stop being so heavy while he was still looking at you with your legs on his shoulders.
"Are you going to stay watching me all day or better I call the pizza boy" You smiled provocatively, you knew it was a bit of a joke "the pizza guy" was a guy who was still a high school student but was a delivery in his spare time, or that's what he told you the other night that he started wanting to flirt with you, until Tom came on the scene in a certain way marking his territory, which didn't bother you at all, it made you laugh.
At the comment Tom bit his tongue and arched one of his eyebrows showing you that you wish you hadn't said that. Quickly he undress you completely, and seeing him take off his belt you knew you would need a few days of rest before you had another round.
He leaned over you carefully, placing his axis right in the middle of your entrance, for seconds (which seemed microseconds) you shared a gaze of mutual lust, as if you were two boys who after so many years of being forbidden to touch each other, could do it now.
He began to enter you and you started to tremble, so when he completely enter you he place your hands on his neck so that you hug him while he began to increase his pace, as it was always quite delicate in these moments, he always pretended a position of superiority and domination before you but dealing with the full moment, in sex always he cared that you feel comfortable and protected.
"Are you okay?" He calmed the rhythm a little while he saw you in the eyes, your hip in front of the action came closer to him, you could contain him and he realized.
"Yes" In the middle of moans and altered breathing you answered half-heartedly ”Go on, please"
His rhythm became quite strong, even his groans were deeper than you had heard before.
"Just fill me of you," you whispered in his ear as they avoided losing consciousness in full mutual orgasm you had.
”Fuck" he replied as you felt as you flooded with him, even at some point you felt as you faded away for a few seconds as he also arched his back over you.
After a few minutes while you were both lying on the floor, carefully he lifted you up and took you to bed while you were dozing in his arms.
"Please don't paint again just with my shirt on” You smiled while he was setting you up to sleep “Or actually, yes, do it again”
"Your wish is my command, isn't it?" You kissed him and then fell asleep.
----------------------------------------
The week went quite well, Monday after the great sex you two had, you went to leave your painting for the cultural week contest, you did not make any expectations actually, there were very good paintings, but it would make you very happy to win.
They began to exhibit all paintings and it was very nice that Tom went to the exhibition as if he were another teacher reviewing school activities, but only took a photograph of your paint while you watched him from afar, because you decided to go at the same time to tour the exhibition although in a certain way with their necessary distance, sharing looks from time to time.
On Friday of that week the results were given and it was quite nice when they told you that you had won the first place, you did not believe it, Jared and Diane accompanied you to receive your first place bun while they took photos for the gazette of the following week.
"So, my number one artist would agree to have dinner with me tonight?"Tom kissed your hand already in his apartment while you ate something in the kitchen in incognito mode.
"Tonight?" You laughed when you pictured yourself with your cheeks like a hamster full of children's cereal that Tom had bought specifically for you.
"Come on, it'll be fun, I promise” He took the box and as your ideal partner he also filled his mouth with children's cereal.
"Okay, but where are we going?”
"That'll be a surprise," he winked at you.
"Mmmm" you pouted " but should I go formal, casual or a bit of both?" You caressed his hair as he hugged you around the waist.
”This time it will be formal" He smiled in the form of complicity, as if this had been planned for quite some time” And that's why I bought this" He gave you a gift box with a rather strange logo on the lid, but you knew it was clothing, you had seen it on some boxes of your mother's clothes.
"Hey, you weren't supposed to do this” You pout again, I knew you kind of didn't like me spending on you.
"Just open it, I feel like you're gonna love it”
When you uncovered the box it was a beautiful evening dress, black color, long with opening in one of the legs to make it look more beautiful, with an open back.
"It's ...“ You held it in your hands feeling the fine silk between your fingers, it was a very nice dress "It's perfect" The emotion in your eyes was reliable, you had never worn such a dress before but whenever you saw girls in them, they look beautiful.
"Well, then we have to prepare because the reservation is at 10:00”
"You're a cheat, you should have told me before”
"I wanted everything to be a surprise”
Both will dress up, at the end of the day you looked like a perfect couple, so elegant and mature, even as if they were married, He watched as you modeled for yourself the dress in front of the mirror even without believing how beautiful you looked.
”I could admire you all night" he said as he leaned against the door frame.
”I really love it, thanks a lot" You smiled shyly, it was the first time you wore this type of clothing, something totally out of your comfort zone.
"Come on, a long night awaits us" You never thought it would turn into a long night.
When you arrived at the restaurant it was pretty cute and elegant, it was far from the university, it drove an hour to get there, which was very good, so no one would see you together and it was completely worth the long trip. It had city view with outdoor balconies, jazz background and quite cozy despite so much formality. The waiter was very kind and you knew of the existence of food that you completely ignored.
Everything was going perfectly well until you heard how behind your back someone greeted Tom as they waited behind you.
"Tom?" He sounded like a rather pleasant voice of a mature man, but the presence behind you was two people.
The moment he greeted Tom his instant nervousness reaction was quite obvious, you even noticed that he passed quite strong spittle.
"Mike, hi" You could actually analyze his reaction pretty easily, but it wasn't that obvious to other people.
"Long time no see" Now the woman was the one who spoke, you were very curious to see who they were but you did not want to turn to look.
Tom stood up and shook the man's hand, that's when you decided to look back.
The woman was Tom's age but the man looked older, they were tall, quite formal, he was wearing a perfectly cut black suit, clearly tailor-made, she was wearing a dress came quite low-cut and cute, she was blonde, thin, you were actually overwhelmed to see how perfect the two of them looked together, not as a couple, but as a royalty father and daughter.
"Well, aren't you planning on introducing this pretty lady?"The man saw you from above, you were still sitting and you looked at Tom who also saw you a little worried, you knew that it was because nobody knew about you, literally nobody.
"Sure, sure, she's Y / N” You stood up and shook hands with both of them while Tom held you by the waist.
"Wow, you had the secret well kept Tom" The blonde smiled as she stared at you "You like young girls" you felt that her comment was quite direct and not with a good intention exactly.
”This is Mike and Tara, my friends" Tom saw you trying to tell you that everything was fine.
"Nice to meet you" You smiled shyly as you waited for the atmosphere to relax a bit.
”We do not want to disturb your dinner, so we withdraw" The man clearly noted that you were not very comfortable with the new presence.
"Oh come on, we could have dinner together, would be a good idea, don't you think?"The blonde didn't take her eyes off you, which made you feel quite uncomfortable so you preferred to keep your eyes only on Tom.
"Come on, Tara, I'm sure they already have plans.”
"And we haven't seen each other for a long time, or would you mind?”
Tom cleared his throat and saw you, actually your look was in the sense that it wasn't bad if he said yes, only you asked that he wouldn't leave you alone at any point.
"All right, let's have dinner.”
Actually Mike was a kind and gentlemanly man, you could tell he was self-confident and quite handsome actually, where as Tara was a strange woman, she was attractive, but her attitude towards you made you feel strange.
“And how was your new job? I heard you plan to publish a new book” Mike addressed Tom very kindly while they were waiting for dinner.
"Well I think I'm doing pretty well, the classes help me reinforce everything I already know, even to learn more, and I plan to publish the book in a few months, right, honey?" He took your hand and kissed your knuckles which made you feel very comfortable but just as nervous, it was the first time that someone knew about you two and you had no idea if you were to be trusted in they.
"Yeah, sometimes he lets me read his sketches and they're pretty good, I swear," Mike nodded, it was pretty easy to hold his gaze, quite the opposite with his partner.
"It's good to see you found a nice lady Tom, I thought I would never know anyone who could stand you "Mike joked and you smiled broadly" He's like a son to me, take good care of him please " Tom had never told you about them before, which made you feel something bad being honest but you thought it was for something. Faced with all these comments, Tara kept a cold and quite serious look.
"And how are you doing with the project?" Tom seemed pretty comfortable with the talk, and it made you feel included, so you didn't mind the sudden change of plans at all, at least until now.
"How do you think we are doing with the project, Tom?" The woman sounded very defensive.
"Tara, please don't start" Mike noticed his attitude " It's getting a little complicated with some issues with permits and stuff, but in the end it will be achieved"
"I'm glad, you know I'm sorry I can't help you, I just needed time since the last project we had" Tom saw the table very thoughtful.
"Quiet is fine, we all deserve our space"
The dinner continued something nice, the woman at some point also relaxed and stopped being defensive during the dinner, however that changed in the bathroom.
"I have to go to the powder room, I'll be back in a second," You got up carefully as you examined the place for the baths.
"I'm coming with you, I know where they are," The woman noticed your reaction.
It was a little awkward going there together, but you told yourself that your prejudices were most likely, so don't take her personality so seriously.
"You and Tom look so cute," She retouched her lipstick while washing your hands.
"Thank you, I think we get along very well"
"How many years does he take you?" She saw you from the mirror.
"Ammm" you weren't sure you answer that question.
"Oh sorry, how curious I am" Her comments were completely defensive "I never thought he liked that kind of girls" she smiled mocking.
"Well, it turns out that he and I have a relationship mature enough to be honest" You weren't going to let her make you feel bad, you didn't even know her.
"Relax, with Tom things are only for a while, or at least how did he ask you?" Your gaze reflected how bewildered you were. "Oh, I'm so sorry, he never asked you to get engaged, did he? or at least something similar, that's right, just tell him you like him, he ask you for time, and then he shows up with another girl eating while wondering what you did wrong" Bingo, her comments were of spite, but at the same time your insecurities began to emerge, it was true, he never asked you to be something formal.
Without saying anything you decided to get out of there, but before entering the door Tara spoke to you again.
"Girl, I'm not saying this out of hatred towards you, even if it sounds like that, just be careful with the decisions you take," she licked her lips finishing touching up her makeup.
When you arrived at the table you felt different, as if you could not look at Tom, you were no longer hungry, you decided to ask the waiter to take your plate and bring you only a glass of wine. Does he see you as something for a while? Or did he want you two to be something else?
"I think we should go Mike, tomorrow is work day" Tara gave you a look but no longer aggressive, even seemed to apologize somehow.
"Well, we left them then, it was a pleasure Y/N "Mike kissed your hand" and I hope you won't disappear for years again" he told Tom seriously.
"I promise" Tom stood up and hugged him, they actually looked like father and son, with Tara shaking her hand.
When they finally left you felt an uncomfortable emptiness.
"That was pretty weird," Tom ordered the dessert, though you really didn't want it.
"Don't tell me" you were looking at your glass of wine "Why didn't you ever tell me about them?”
"I never thought it was necessary, actually, it is a stage that I do not like to remember much" He looked you "They're just friends from the past"
"Should I worry about what they know about us?”
”Not at all, they're both trustworthy, Tara might be a bit strange but she wouldn't do anything to hurt us" That made you think that then he had something with her, you unwittingly, frowned your eyebrows tightly "It's everything okay?" Tom bent his gaze trying to find yours.
"Yeah, it's nothing, I'm just tired” you saw him for a few seconds but looked down immediately afterwards.
"If you want we can go home, and there we eat the dessert”
”I think it's perfect." You pretended everything was fine.
During the journey you, you spent thinking about everything told you Tara, you didn't know if it was legit, but somehow that happened to you, you weren't introduced as his girlfriend (which he had never before been necessary in reality) but in a certain way by what Tara had to see that, even asked yourself if you could call him your boyfriend officially, if it is the kind of boyfriend would present with your parents and friends, you realized you had many things to talk about, but you didn't know if it was the right time.
When you arrived at the apartment the first thing you did was go to the bathroom to process a little everything that had happened, when you returned Tom was waiting for you in the kitchen with dessert on a plate and two forks.
"Chocolate cake, as I promised you” He had told you a few days ago that he would make you taste one of the best cakes in town
"I hope it's as good as you promised” You took one of the forks and started eating, but you didn't even notice the taste, your mind was somewhere else.
“So, what do you think?" When Tom asked you clearly, he pulled you out of your thoughts and he realized.
"It's Okay" you smiled without seeing him.
”Don't like it?" Tom seemed disappointed actually.
"No, it's delicious actually, I just don't feel good.”
"What's wrong?”
"Nothing, don't worry”
"No, tell me what's going on, please Y/N" His look showed real concern.
"I don't want to look crazy, you know, let alone upset.”
"You know I would never think that of you”
“It's just, I got to thinking that, I do not know, are we that kind of relationship that presents itself to your friends, family or even parents at some point?“ Tom seemed a little confused, "I mean, I know our relationship is pretty strange and complex, even if we're not something formal, you know" Your hands started shaking unintentionally.
"Hey, what do you mean we're not formal?”
"Yeah, you know, you never asked me to be your girlfriend or something, I guess that's why we're not a couple formally, which is fine if we agreed now, I understand, but ..." You fiddled with the fork in your hand and Tom smiled absurdly.
“You know, I never believed that it was necessary and I'm very sorry, sometimes the age difference makes us look at things a little bit different” In that he was right, sometimes he thought as your grandfather, that made you laugh, “I don't want to sound now like crazy” I look at you intently as he smiled from the side, “I love you Y/N, I love you like you have no idea, I had never before felt that someone understood me this way, and I know I sound like a lunatic by the way in which we met, but you're cute, smart, strong, witty, perfectionist, and you are the most wonderful woman I have ever met in my life" You felt faithfully that he was serious. “So, if you want it, yes, when relevant, you know, for all of this to the university and our professional relationship, I would love you to meet my friends and family, I want to warn you that it will be something strange, but it will be well,” He hug you very strong and you adored the feeling of peace that he conveyed being in his arms “And if you wish, I could meet your friends and family”
"I didn't want to look like I was pressuring you, please don't think that.”
"Never my love, I would never think about it" I kiss your forehead " Just tell me why did you suddenly think about this? For Mike and Tara?" Oh God, you didn't know whether to tell her about your talk with Tara in the bathroom. You hesitated for a second until you decided not to lie.
"Did you have anything to do with Tara?”
”Wow, that was direct “Tom smiled as he sat right in front of the kitchen counter” It's pretty weird, but we never had anything serious you know, she and I went out a few times and then she told me that she was interested in me, but to be honest with you I didn't feel it was her, so I told her that I didn't want anything, which I think that hurt her“ You knew he wasn't lying, you knew it from the tone he had in his voice" So when I finished working with them, by the way, Mike was my professor at the university with whom I started working immediately after graduating and because of whom I met Tara four years ago, I decided to leave, at first because I needed my own time and work on my projects and not only school or work, even personal, and on the other hand I also thought that the best thing was to leave Tara, I no longer felt comfortable"
”I'm sorry, I didn't think it was like that."
"What did she say to you?" He smiled without really taking it too seriously.
"Nothing, only that you had something temporary and you had left without explaining”
“Well, no, actually when I was I don't I lied, I told them what I just said just a second ago, and Mike can confirm, and I'm going to be completely honest, I dated with her for some time, but from the beginning I told her that my intentions were not going beyond something passenger and I thought she had understood” he sighed for a few seconds “With you I don't feel the same, I know what that is for a person to play with you and I hate that people do that, I don't know why Tara told you those things, but I swear I with you I feel very happy and for you I would do anything, I swear " Her look gave you a full sense of tranquility and mutual trust.
”I trust you" You took his face between your hands and you nailed a deep kiss "You know, I love you too" you felt your heart burst with love, it was the first time you told him "And I appreciate that you have the confidence to tell me about this" For a moment you held each other while he stroked your hair.
"By the way" Took the slice of cake and knelt in front of you "Let's pretend this is happening two months ago with two weeks please, do you want to be my girlfriend?" For a moment you thought I was joking so you just laughed "Is seriously, I mean, I don't have a bouquet of flowers or a box of chocolates but I do have a slice of cake, delicious cake, so, what do you say?" When he said he was serious you didn't believe it, it seemed kind of strange in reality but at the same time it flooded your heart with happiness.
"Yes, I would love to” He stood as he held your face between his two hands and kissed you deeply "I would love to be your girlfriend”
"Well, you were already my girlfriend, but let's comply with the formality" He put the cake on the table "this dinner was really weird”
"And dessert is not going to be enough for both of us" You smiled as you took the cake as if you were going to devour it all by yourself.
”Or we can have some other dessert" Oh not that tone of voice, again sex in the kitchen, last time you had to clean everything up, but you certainly smiled boldly just thinking about it again.
"Or, we could try to see if there's anything in the fridge” You ran to the fridge but skillfully caught you by the waist keeping close to him.
"Are you sure?" He turned you firmly by the hips so your back was stuck to his body while your abdomen was right on the kitchen counter, you felt like the heat between your legs began to increase, you appreciated bringing slippers, that helped you a lot for these things.
"Or show me what else we could do" You bit your lips as you placed your hands leaning against the bar.
"With pleasure" whispered in your ear while with his legs he opened yours and made you lie a little more on the bar, quickly raised your dress to the waist and seeing your garters you felt like he got even more excited than he was already, hearing how he undressed from just imagining it you moaned, so immediately that he could tangled your hair in his hand, while with the other he prepared to give you one of the best nights of your life.
Your legs bent completely when he entered you without warning, so you felt as if you were going to fall at that precise moment, with agility he hugged you from the waist holding you while with his same legs he prevented you from closing yours.
”Ask for it" he roared as he took a rather slow pace which made you moan for more at the time.
"Please, please I need you," you moaned as you held with one of your hands his arm that held your hip over the bar.
"You don't know how fucking good you make me feel” he leaned a bit on you so he reached deeper, which made you feel like in fucking heaven, always came to make you feel much better than last time in sex, and that excited you.
"Make me yours, only yours" you begged as your legs began to tremble more and more and your knees felt that at any moment they would give up.
Your heels squeaked on the floor while his belt grazed your legs still hanging from his waist, the onslaught was getting faster and deeper, you couldn't help but moan at the touch of the metal buckle between your legs, even unintentionally you stuck your nails in his arm at every touch.
"So that's why you wanted me to wear this dress so easy to handle" You smiled full of lust as your back curled still over the bar.
”I swear I didn't, but when I saw you with him I couldn't help but want you with all my strength"
At one point you felt like you couldn't take it anymore, the heat all over your body was uncontrollable and when you intertwined his hand with yours you felt like you couldn't want more.
"Come and get me" pressed your hip against him as you felt the orgasm take over both of you from one second to the next, again the kitchen would be a mess but whatever, it was completely worth it.
Her moans and yours together for you were a way to make your orgasm feel a thousand times better, even her hand touching your belly made your legs tremble more than normal.
When you two were done, you were together for a few seconds, but when he let you go, your legs accidentally won, and you almost fell.
"Wow wait" he carried you to the couch where he laid you down with him. "Are you okay?" His voice sounded anxious
"Relax, I'm fine" You smiled still trying to regulate your breathing again " Only I don't think the dress it's okay” You laughed completely when you saw it was dirty than it was more obvious there could be about you right now.
"I guess it goes away" Both laughed when they realized how funny this was.
"Fuck, why are you so perfect?" You kissed him while you laughed.
"I hope that when I meet your parents they will think the same”
"I assure you, yes” you smiled, but you imagined how strange that is going to be when it happens.
#tom hiddleston#tom hiddleston imagine#imagine tom hiddleston#marvel tom hiddleston#Tom Hiddleston x reader#loki imagine#loki (marvel)
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Hey I absolutely love your account and if it’s not much of a bother can you write hcs or a fic where Amy was in Rosa’s place in the active shooter situation of season 5 episode 20 and how would Jake react and deal wit it. Thank you <3
Oh dang, that's such an interesting prompt and I'd love to write an actual fic about it at a later point, when I get a good coherent idea for it. That said my first ever B99 Fic kinda deals with a similar situation where Jake has to handle Amy being taken hostage while he's off duty... including my very first baby Mac writing (here it is)
Headcanon-wise this already got long:
- she only wanted to make a quick detour before their shift for some errands and to get a package he'd ordered and forgotten about, that had been sent to a pick-up place instead of their apartment, so they'd agreed to split up - she takes the car and comes in a bit later, Jake gets to work on the subway and comes in early because he has a big case waiting for him
- he actually gets stuck on the subway for about 30 minutes because of some delay and silently curses the fact that the one time in months where his girlfriend doesn't drive with him to work, he'll be late again and will never hear the end of it from anyone
- but once he does get in there's definitely no teasing as they're all already set around the radio, listening to the active shooter situation that he realises was the reason for his subway delay (he'll later scold himself for not getting out and checking what the situation was, because then he would've been there with her)
- he also realises, after Holt gives him some info, that the situation is right down the block from the pick-up place - seconds before the radio crackles on with Amy's voice, giving her last name and badge number
- he's pretty sure he can feel every single set of eyes in the precinct zoom in on him in that moment, not that it matters because he doesn't notice anything anymore except for the ice-cold rush down his back and his heart racing and yeah that's probably a small panic attack
- Rosa is surprisingly the one who gets him away from it all and into the breakroom, pushing him into the sofa and breathing with him until he can actually get air on his own, and telling him that things will be okay and that Amy can handle herself and would never do anything too rash, but he knows her 'comforting lie' voice after all their years working together
- he obviously immediately makes plans to go downtown and help her, and unlike with Rosa's situation a stern talking-to from Holt is not enough to stop him. Terry has to physically lift him and carry him back to the breakroom twice as he tries to go for the gun storage / supply room / idk what it's called basically where he wants to stock up before heading out
- they all split their time between listening to the radio updates and checking in on him / sitting with him to keep him calm, trying to distract him with other topics but barely any of it works (Holt comes closest simply by the fact that he doesn't try to divert his attention, but rather acknowledges his fears and talks him through it with the direct, almost brash way he has)
- but then the radio reports shots fired and several officers down/injured and Terry has to lift him away a third time and needs to hold him for quite a while until he stops trying to wiggle free
- Amy comes in about half an hour later, her arm bandaged up - she didn't get shot but injured herself in a fall while trying to help carry out a wounded officer
- not that she can really explain because she's caught in a deathgrip-hug by Jake as soon as she steps out of the elevator and while everyone else definitely wants to swarm on her as well, they respectfully keep their distance as Jake shivers in her arms
- after making sure she's absolutely okay and letting everyone hug her once, Holt sends them both home for the day (and strongly considers asking Rosa or Terry to drive them but Amy assures him she can do it)
- they kind of act like nothing big has happened once they're home, mostly started by Amy who is busy getting her purse in order and walking to the kitchen for the delivery menus and chatting and trying to forget what happened or could have happened, but Jake is back to koala-hugging her as soon as she stands still enough
- "Sorry I couldn't get your package" she tries to joke and that's weirdly when the dam breaks and they both start crying from the tension and fear and built-up emotions while hugging each other
- the rest of the day is spent on the couch / in bed, switching between holding each other close to their chest and talking it through, with an extra big order from the Polish place and lots of soft kisses and whispered reassurances
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Whumpmas In July: "Stop"
Fandom: Naruto
Rating: E
Pairing: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
WC: ~6200
Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Notes: Miscommunication, Dissociation, Relationship Problems, Captivity, Kidnapping, Hand Feeding, Master/Pet, Canon-Typical Violence, Hair-Pulling, Defiance, Begging, Asphyxiation, Oral Sex, Rope Bondage, Crying, Scars, Anal Fingering, Non-Consensual Spanking, Anal Sex, Gaslighting, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Hospital Stay
A/N: I think I got everything in the tags. If ANYONE sees anything that I missed that I should add a tag for, PLEASE let me know so I can add it on.
Read After "Warmth"
For @whumpmasinjuly prompt list
Read on The Archive
~
Iruka mops the floors of his apartment, looking desperately for the calm that cleaning usually gives him. He’s already washed all of the windows and reorganized the pantry. If mopping doesn’t work, he’ll have to try deep-cleaning the bathroom again, which he knows won’t work, actually, because he did that last night.
Last night was nice. Last night, he and Kakashi made out for well over an hour in training ground twenty-three, and he even had his back against a tree for much of it. And then…
And then Iruka went and ruined it by asking Kakashi to stop.
It worked! Kakashi is always so careful and perfect, and so stopped exactly when the word slipped out of Iruka’s mouth. But he hadn’t… he hadn’t been happy about it. Especially because Iruka couldn’t tell him what was wrong.
Because nothing’s wrong.
That’s why—
“Hello, Love.” The front door opens and closes, the crinkle of paper bags shifting alerting Iruka to fresh groceries and a potential truce meal. Iruka, in the hallway with the mop still in hand, feels queasy. He’s not ready for this conversation.
He might not ever be.
“I was thinking—oh, Love,” Kakashi cuts himself off, startled. “The apartment is… very clean. Is everything—?”
“I’m going to discuss it with Rikona-sensei in our next session,” Iruka says, finishing the mopping and dropping the dirty mop and bucket just inside the bathroom to take care of later. He comes back out and crosses the living room to Kakashi, still hovering just inside the genkan. “I want to get her opinion first, and then I’ll discuss it with you.”
“Nothing bad, I hope?”
Iruka shrugs. He changes the subject, “What’s for dinner?”
~
Afterwards, they lay side-by-side on the kotatsu and touch and make out like teenagers. Iruka’s enjoying it, he really is. He loves kissing Kakashi, loves touching him, and loves feeling him get worked up. He loves how Kakashi gets chattier the more turned on he gets.
He appreciates how Kakashi asks for every touch, every time he wants to get closer. He keeps their hips apart until Iruka’s ready for it, and is careful and gentle when he does eventually press a thigh between Iruka’s legs. And it’s wonderful feeling the bare skin of Kakashi’s chest against his own, the thrill of being turned on for the first time in so long.
But.
“S-st—oh, Kakashi—I. Oh, please, please. St-stop, stop, stop—”
Kakashi pulls away quickly and sits back. Iruka lays still, chest heaving, staring at the ceiling. He takes a moment, and then closes his eyes in relief.
He did—
“Am I doing something wrong?”
Iruka’s eyes snap back open and he looks up at Kakashi. He’s kneeling back, still between Iruka’s legs but not touching him anymore. His hands are clenched in tight fists on his thighs, and his mouth is a hard line. There’s a love bite on his collarbone, the skin red and irritated—Iruka put that there, just a little while ago.
“What—no, I—”
“Then why do you keep telling me to stop?” Kakashi holds up a hand to keep him from answering.
Oh, he knew this was going to bite him.
“Kakashi, please,” he tries anyway.
Kakashi is already standing up and looking for his clothes. “I don’t like being tugged around. If you don’t want this, just tell me, don’t—fuck, I told you I can’t hurt you like this, but apparently I’ve been getting close every time we’ve been making out for the last week!”
“It’s not like that,�� Iruka says, reaching for his own shirt.
“Then what is it?” Kakashi pauses in the middle of pulling up his trousers. He’s clearly trying so hard not to glare, not to growl.
It doesn’t change the frustration in his tone. It doesn’t change that Iruka’s still too fucked up to tell the difference between frustration and anger. He’s too at risk for an episode.
He’s—
“When you get your shit together,” Kakashi, once he’s finished dressing, pulls on his mask. It feels strangely final. He moves to the genkan and slips into his sandals. “Come find me, and we’ll talk.”
Then he leaves.
Iruka lays back on the couch and presses his heels into his eyes. He tries to keep his breathing even, and fails. He tries to calm his pulse—and fails that, too.
The timbre of Kakashi’s frustration/anger/sex voice echoes in his head. Iruka loses feeling in his fingers, first, then his feet and legs; and then the ache settles in his chest and he knows for sure that he lost.
Nononono—
He slips.
~
Iruka tries to find Kakashi the next day, but he’s already gone on a mission. It’s telling enough that he left without saying goodbye to Iruka; that had been a recurring thing between them since before they started dating. Iruka holds himself together until the end of the school day, and then walks to his shift at the Mission Desk.
There’s a C-rank scroll delivery on the books waiting for either a genin team or a solo chūnin to sign for it. The clocking is estimated at a day and a half.
Iruka likely has the weekend to himself. He shrugs, signs for the mission, and tucks the details into his vest to peruse later. Sitting down at the Desk, he starts his shift, calling the next shinobi forward.
Some time away may do him good.
~
Iruka wakes up groggy and limp, and struggles to remember what happened. He attempts to activate his chakra-location technique, but nothing happens. Then, as he tries to lift his head, he feels the paper tag pressed against his neck. He stops moving immediately, not sure if it’s a paper bomb or something else without looking at it.
“You’re awake,” someone says. “That’s good. I was hoping I didn’t hit you too hard.”
Iruka clenches and unclenches his hands. They’re tied up above his head to the pole against his back. He almost lost feeling in them. How long has he been out?
Footsteps—leather on stone—echo around him. Iruka blinks, his eyelids heavy. “I may have to get rid of some identifying marks if I end up keeping you,” the other person, a man, says. A hand grabs his chin and lifts his head for him (very likely not a paper bomb; he’s not being careful enough) and turns him left and right. “Though, I must say, your scar is particularly fetching. It’s what caught my eye in the first place, see.” He drops Iruka’s chin. He doesn’t have enough strength back yet to keep his neck upright. The man fingers his scar from cheek to cheek. “Beautiful.”
“I…” Iruka gasps, swallows hard. “I won’t talk.”
“Oh, that’s alright,” the man chuckles. “I know you’re shinobi, but I’m not here for secrets. I know that’s futile.”
“Then… what do you… why am I—?”
“You’re here because I need a new companion,” the man says. “My last one, hmm, expired, see. And I saw you walking into town just yesterday evening and, well. I had to have you.”
He places a hand on Iruka’s cheek and lifts his face again.
“Oh, you are even more beautiful when you’ve got terror in your eyes,” he grins. “That’s good.”
Iruka growls, shakes his head away, “Stop touching me.”
“You’ll be hungry in a little while,” the man says with a chuckle. “Don’t worry, pretty one, I don’t let my pets starve; unless they’re bad, of course.”
~
Kakashi flickers across the rooftops of Konoha, much more relaxed now that he’s had a few days to cool off. He’s glad he left when he did; he didn’t want to be angry around Iruka, but the pent-up frustration had been getting to him. He still needs to apologize for snapping, and he hopes that Iruka’s ready to talk about whatever’s been bothering him the last week or so.
He stops outside the apartment door and knocks. Iruka had keyed him into the wards last week, but after their fight—he’s hesitant to call it such, but, it really was, wasn’t it?—he wants to give Iruka the chance to open the door and let him in. Or they can go to Ichiraku’s; neutral ground. Or to Kakashi’s place.
He’s not picky. He just needs to…
To…
Hmm.
He knocks again. Waits.
It’s Sunday evening. There are no classes at the Academy, and the Mission Desk is closed by now for mission assignments, too. Iruka should be home.
He flashes around the side of the building, to the kitchen window. There’s no sound, no movement. The next window is the bathroom window, and he glances in—empty. The bedroom window is around another corner, and he checks in there, too. The bed is made and the room is spotless. More importantly, Iruka-less.
Kakashi flickers back to the Tower and lands outside of the Hokage’s open window.
“Iruka’s missing,” he says without preamble.
Tsunade pauses and turns in her chair, narrows her eyes. “Umino’s on a mission,” she says.
“A mission?”
“But,” she holds up a finger, and looks to Shizune, standing beside her, “I do believe the time estimate on that mission stated that he should have returned today.”
“I’ll retrieve his mission details, Tsunade-sama.” Shizune hurries out of the room.
“Come in and wait, brat.”
“I’ll stay here. The breeze is nice”
“He may just have been delayed.”
“But why did he leave anyway?” Kakashi hums, shifts to a more comfortable crouch. “Did you need him for seal-work?”
“No,” Tsunade says. She stops pretending like she’s going to try and get back to work. “I actually sent for him yesterday before realizing that he was out of the village. I had a few scrolls brought up from the archives that need unsealing, and I honestly don’t trust anyone else with them besides Umino or Jiraiya.”
“High praise,” Kakashi smiles behind his mask. Iruka deserves it.
“Kid should be tokujō, but wants to stay at the Academy,” Tsunade sighs.
Shizune comes back, scroll in hand and a thoughtful frown in her brow. “The mission parameters, Tsunade-sama,” she says, handing the scroll to the Hokage. “He should have returned early this afternoon. That it’s past sundown and he’s still not back is… concerning.”
“Umino is a capable shinobi,” Tsunade says. “Standard procedure is three days late before a scouting party is arranged to find out what happened.” She turns to Kakashi, “Can you wait until Wednesday before you lose all sanity?”
“Haven’t got much left to lose, Hokage-sama,” Kakashi says. “I’ll wait, but I demand to be in the scouting party.”
~
Iruka chews the rice the man feeds him. He won’t untie him, and so instead he brings small bites of food to Iruka’s lips every so often. Iruka takes the food and tries to think of how he’s going to get out of here, but with his chakra repressed somehow—Iruka suspects the tag—and his wrists tied as they are, it’s difficult to come up with a way to pull away from the pole at his back.
“What, um,” Iruka clears his throat between bites, “what can I call you?”
The man smiles; it sends a shiver down his spine and makes his throat close up because he knows that smile. Mizuki used to give him that same smile. Before.
“‘Master’ works,” he says. He offers a canteen of water. Iruka drinks slowly, but some liquid still slips out of the side of his mouth.
Iruka swallows; frowns. “I’m. I’m not calling you that.”
“We’ll see, pet.” He packs up the rest of the food and leaves the canteen on the ground, half a meter from Iruka’s knees. “If you’re good tonight, tomorrow I’ll move you to the futon. The canteen stays upright all night. You’ll get to drink more in the morning.”
“You—what?”
“If you’re going to keep talking,” he sighs, “I’ll have to gag you. And I really don’t want to have to gag you, pretty one. I don’t like gagging my pets, see. But I’m going to bed, and so I need you to be silent.”
Iruka ducks his head, snarling, but holding back heated words. He can’t be gagged. He can’t show this man the weakness he has, or he at least needs to hold out as long as possible.
~
Iruka wakes up to his stomach grumbling. The rice and water hadn’t been enough, but he’s been hungry before and he can take the discomfort. The man is already puttering around by a small fire, cooking his own breakfast it seems, and gives Iruka that same slimy smile when he notices that he’s awake.
“You left the canteen alone,” he says. “That’s very good. I had a feeling a pet shinobi would be able to follow instructions well.”
“I’m nobody’s pet,” Iruka seethes without thinking.
The man’s eyes darken. “Well, now that just won’t do,” he says. He stands up and takes the pan off the fire, douses it, and stalks over to Iruka. “See, boy, you are my pet. And every good pet’s gotta learn some manners, I suppose. So here’s your first lesson, see: I’m your Master, and you will address me as such.”
Iruka spits at the man. He gets him on his trouser leg.
“Alright, pretty one, but you asked for this.”
He reaches out and takes a handful of Iruka’s hair, holding the back of his head flush to the pole. The pain in his scalp drags him down, down, oh gods no, please not now stopstopstop!! Then the man’s boot connects with his stomach and the breath is literally kicked out of him.
Again.
And again.
Iruka holds back tears and grapples with his own mind to stay present because he doesn’t want to hurt anymore but he also doesn’t want to slip, please, he doesn’t want to go right now—
“Please,” he gasps.
“You can be good, pretty one,” the man coos. “You know how to make this stop, don’t you now?”
He pulls harder on Iruka’s hair and kicks him again.
The ache in his chest is settling. He can’t—He can’t.
Iruka sobs. “Please, please stop.”
“I don’t hear the magic word,” he sings, and pulls back for another kick.
Iruka cries, “Please, Master, I-I’ll be good!” Tears slip down his face and his stomach throbs—but the ache flutters away and he’s able to breathe.
The man releases his hair, and then cups his cheek.
“There, see. That wasn’t so bad.”
~
The man eventually moves him away from the pole—he’s not sure yet if this is a good thing, because while, yes, he can now at least feel his hands, tied now behind his back, he’s also closer to the futon. And the implications of that…
He was due back in Konoha yesterday—and that’s assuming he was unconscious for less than a day. They won’t send a search party for another two days. He needs to stay strong.
Gods, he hopes Kakashi’s mission is going well. He didn’t even check the rank before he left! What kind of partner is he…
“Pet?”
Iruka looks up begrudgingly.
“Oh, don’t give me that look. How’s your belly?”
“Fine,” he says.
“Fine…?”
“Fine, Master,” Iruka grits.
“Good. I think I’ll feed you again tonight.”
Iruka says nothing.
“Or, you can starve.”
“I prefer to feed myself,” Iruka says cooly.
The man’s eyes narrow dangerously. “I do so enjoy feeding my pets,” he says. “You eat by my hand, or you don’t eat at all.”
Iruka nods. “I understand.”
His lip curls. He crouches down and puts his hand around Iruka’s neck, crinkling the paper seal and squeezing just enough to threaten. “Listen here, pet—”
“You don’t scare me,” Iruka snaps. “I’m a Konoha shinobi. Your torture methods won’t break m—nng—”
“I’m not trying to torture you, pretty one,” the man says, tightening his grip around Iruka’s neck so he chokes. “I simply want the respect I’m owed. Give that to me and I won’t have to hurt you.”
“Fuck… you…”
The man purses his lips and mutters, “Now there’s an idea,” and then lets Iruka go.
He coughs, sputters, heaves deep gulps of air. He barely hears the clink of the man undoing his buckle, or the unmistakable sound of a zipper, but he gasps when his hair is pulled again and—
No, gods please
“Will you be good and keep your teeth to yourself?”
“Please, please, st-stop no I don’t—”
“Oh, you’ve had this done before?” He clicks his tongue and leaves his dick alone to stroke Iruka’s face. “My sweet, pretty pet. No one else is ever going to touch you like this again, see? Now. Open up for me.”
Iruka shakes his head. “I don’t. No. Stop.”
“You said it yourself. You don’t have to be scared of me, pet.” He presses his thumb into Iruka’s mouth and pulls down on his jaw, and then runs the pad along his molars. “Stay,” he says, and then puts his hand hack on his dick.
Iruka whimpers, but leaves his mouth open. He doesn’t want to think of what could happen if he closes his mouth now. His breath comes in stutters, through his nose.
This man smells nothing like Kakashi, thank the gods.
He jerks himself off quickly and efficiently, and is soon ejaculating across Iruka’s face and into the back of his mouth. It’s sour and thin and Iruka coughs—the man immediately grabs his mouth and pinches his nose closed. Iruka flails to the side, but the man grapples with him and gets behind him, keeping a hold on his nose and mouth.
“Swallow, pet.”
Iruka would rather pass out. He thrashes in the man’s grapple.
“Swallow, or you’ll run out of air.”
That’s the plan.
“Pet!”
Iruka slumps in the man’s arms.
~
Wednesday morning arrives and Kakashi is—twitchy. He’s already at the Hokage Tower, sitting outside the window to Tsunade’s office, when she arrives at seven o’clock.
“Kakashi, have you slept at all since Sunday?”
“I dozed here and there,” he shrugs
“The scouting party won’t be put together until after lunch,” she says. “Go get some more sleep until then.”
He turns to go back to the roof—he’ll doze for a bit up there waiting for Tsunade—but then a pigeon flies by his ear into the Hokage’s office and lands on her desk. No one uses pigeons anymore for carrying messages, do they?
Shizune picks the little bird up and says, “It has a message, Tsunade-sama.” She picks the message off of the bird’s leg and hands it to the Hokage, who unrolls it and reads silently.
“Brat.”
“Hokage-sama?”
She turns to him, eyes burning and mouth hard. “We’re going to release this pigeon, and you’ll follow it. The scouting party will be along as soon as I can get it together.”
Kakashi nods. Hesitantly, he asks, “Iruka?”
“Follow. The pigeon. If it doesn’t lead you to him, any means necessary. Bring him home, Kakashi.”
“What condition can I expect him in?”
“I’m sending you ahead, alone, because I believe you’ll be the only one he’ll trust to take him out of the situation he’s in,” she hands Kakashi the letter, rolled back up. Then, she nods to Shizune. “Go.”
The pigeon flies away. Kakashi follows.
~
“Quit struggling; you’re going to hurt yourself.”
Iruka flails and bucks against the ropes tightening around his wrists and neck. He’s naked, light-headed and dizzy but gods he can’t stop fighting.
“Pet, do I need to take your mouth again?”
“You do whatever makes you feel better,” Iruka growls.
“I’ve never had a pet who responded to pleasure as though it were pain,” the man muses behind him. “Though, it does make you that much more fascinating.”
The rope around his neck tightens as he’s lifted by the strand connecting his neck to his wrists along his spine. His back is brought to rest against the man’s chest, and he starts touching Iruka, all over his chest and bruised belly. He winces as the man pinches his nipple and sniffs his hair.
“Stop,” he mutters weakly.
“Hmm. You know how to ask properly, pretty one.”
He bites back a cry as the man pulls and pinches at his chest. Iruka starts losing feeling in his limbs and his breath stutters. It’s. It’s too much like Mizuki. He has to. Gods he has to stop it. He can’t—he must remain present. Even if it means kowtowing to this…
His breath hitches. He forces out, “Please, Master, stop,” and then hiccups on a loose sob.
“Oh, that’s pretty, see,” the man says. He stops pinching and starts caressing and fuck, that’s not what Iruka meant.
“No, no plea—ohh.”
He pulls Iruka’s hair and Iruka falls back on instinct. Mizuki used to like to pull, and he wanted Iruka to like it.
“Yes, that’s it, pet,” the man croons. “Now, bend forward—that’s it, very good. Oh, look at you. Look at this,” he places his palm over the fūma shuriken scar on Iruka’s back.
Iruka breathes heavily. His bare knees are cushioned by the futon mattress and his temple is against the pillow. It’s… it’s more than Mizuki ever gave him, when he tied him up like this. He closes his eyes against the tears.
Gods, he wants Kakashi.
“Your scars are beautiful, pet.” The sound of a jar lid being turned, metal on glass, is loud in the cavern. “Once you're trained, I’ll be the envy of all who see you. Perhaps I’ll lend you out to those I trust.”
Iruka chokes on another cry. Mizuki used to threaten him like this—
“Oh, pet, that’s sweet. You’d rather stay mine and mine alone, wouldn’t you?”
Iruka flinches at the first touch of a cold, slick finger to his hole.
Kakashi hasn’t yet—they haven’t—gods—
“Stay still, pretty one, or this could hurt.”
He loses the battle against his will of holding in his tears. The man’s finger breaches him. Iruka holds himself perfectly still.
“I don’t want this, I don’t want this, I don’t—stop, stop, please, I don’t want it…”
“Shh, pet. It’ll feel good soon.”
I know. That’s what I’m scared of.
~
Kakashi summons the pack three hours out of Konoha. The pigeon had clearly been a summon as well, because once it had gotten a fair distance from civilization it poofed away in a puff of smoke. Frustrated, Kakashi has the pack fan out to search for Iruka’s scent.
Just as he’s been keyed into Iruka’s impenetrable wards, Iruka’s scent has been memorized by every member of the pack. Kakashi imagines civilians would think those actions wouldn’t have much meaning, but to each other it meant everything.
Fuck he was such an idiot. How could he have left for a mission without saying goodbye? He was upset, and frustrated, but he wasn’t… shit, he needs to get his act together.
A howl comes from the north. Akino. He flickers from tree to tree, making the distance in ten minutes.
Akino frowns at him when he settles beside him. “That was stupid quick, Boss,” he says accusingly.
Kakashi ignores the comment. “You have Iruka’s scent?”
Akino nods and points with his nose. “He’d come from that way, a few days ago. There was a struggle. And then he and this other scent—male, middle-age, water chakra-nature—go off east.”
Kakashi nods. “I’m going to release the rest of the pack, for now. Keep on his trail.”
“You got it.”
~
Iruka comes back to himself with an indicative pain in his ass and a headache pounding behind his eyes. He hadn’t even felt himself start to slip; he’d just gone. Not good.
His clothes haven’t been returned to him. That’s… understandable. Easier access.
The man is asleep next to him. His snores are ugly and loud, it’s a wonder Iruka stayed under for as long as he did.
His stomach growls. It’s been days since the last time—first time—only time—the man fed him. He twists his wrists in the ropes and shifts his hips a little. A thin dribble of come slips out and drips down his thigh.
“Are you with me again, pet?”
Iruka gulps and sniffles. “I’m—”
“I don’t appreciate my pets zoning out during our couplings.” The man drapes a hand on Iruka’s ass and then spanks him hard, the slap pushing Iruka forward into the pillow a few inches.
“I didn’t—”
“I really don’t appreciate my pets lying to me,” the man growls, leaning up on his elbow. He spanks Iruka again, this time drawing a hiss of pain. “I know what I saw, and I know what happened.”
His fingers dance around Iruka’s rim, still stretched and slick from before. Iruka shuts his eyes tight and grits his teeth against the cry in his throat.
“Now. I’m going to have you again. And you’re going to enjoy it.”
“Stop touching me,” Iruka sobs through clenched teeth.
“No, I don’t think I will. Although,” he slides two fingers inside and hooks them, pulls so Iruka has to lift his hips more, spread his knees more, “you know how to properly ask for what you want, see.”
He moves to kneel behind Iruka and pulls his fingers out, and then wipes them off on his back. The man presses his dick inside and Iruka—
Iruka whimpers.
“That’s it, oh, very good, pet. So pretty, taking my cock.”
He’s not going to make it out of this without a new trigger word. Pet. Pretty. Hell, this fucker’s reinforcing his old trigger for Good, and he and Kakashi only just got to the point where they can say it under the right circumstances.
“Such pretty hair,” the man takes a handful and pulls, only barely lifting Iruka’s face off of the pillow. “When I found you, you had it tied up. What a crime. You’ll wear your hair down from now on, pretty one, so I can see it.”
He brushes Iruka’s prostate. He groans, bites his lip. No more. No. He can’t. Stop. Stop.
“Please stop,” he murmurs.
The man sighs and thrusts faster, harder.
Kakashi
Kakashi
“K-shi.”
“What’s that, pet?”
Iruka snaps his eyes open. Fuck.
“Nothing,” he says quickly.
“What is ‘k-shi’?” he asks, stilling his hips.
“No one.”
Fuck.
“Is that so?” He slowly starts thrusting again, picking up the pace bit by bit until his hips are slapping unrelentingly against Iruka’s ass. With one hand he holds onto the rope, taut from Iruka’s neck to his wrists at the small of his back, and with the other he presses his fingers into the flesh of his waist and pulls Iruka back onto his dick with each thrust.
“Who—is—k-shi?” he growls.
Iruka cries, “Stop, stop, please!”
The man spits. It lands on the back of his neck. Iruka shivers.
“Whoever it is, you’ll never see them again.” He stills, reaches around and fondles Iruka, and the grin is audible in his voice as he continues, “You’re mine, pretty one. No one’s coming. No one else cares.”
Iruka can’t pull back from the hand on his cock, it only shoves the man’s dick further inside. He can’t push forward, that would only make him think he’s enjoying the touch. His chest aches. His breath comes in fits and starts.
Kakashi… he’ll come… right?
If he can’t get himself out of here, Tsunade-sama will send a scouting party. Kakashi will volunteer to be on that mission, won’t he?
“You have only me, pet. I’m your Master, and I’ll take care of you, see. You just have to let me.”
He jerks Iruka off in the same rhythm as he thrusts into his ass. He braces himself on Iruka’s shoulder, pressing him into the futon. It hurts. It.
Oh he’s gonna—
“STOP, please!” he sobs one more time.
“No. Come for me, pretty one.”
He does. He sobs and comes and it hurts and it’s like the man’s kicked him again. Iruka hardly registers the flood of come in his ass as the man orgasms, too.
The man pulls out and walks away.
To the feeling of more come dribbling out of his hole, Iruka mutters into the pillow, “I’m sorry, love. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Kakashi, I’m so sorry…”
~
Iruka loses count of how many times the man comes inside him. It’s enough that after a while he stops fingering him first, then later stops bothering with oil. Eventually he’s led to the fireside, and then made to kneel again beside a large stone. The man sits upon the stone, above him, and feeds him bites of rice and small morsels of rabbit.
He keeps his head down between bites. Sometimes the man will leave his fingers on Iruka’s lips after he’s placed food on his tongue, and so after he’s finished chewing and swallowing, he lets the man explore his mouth with his fingertips. “Very good, pet,” he praises. Then he’ll give Iruka a sip of water.
It’s been days, hasn’t it? Even the worst trackers Konoha has would have found him by now—and Kakashi is by no means the worst. The pack knows him. If Kakashi was looking…
But he’s not. He’s not, is he?
He’s led back to the futon, laid out on his back, and then his neck is tied up to a stake the man’s placed near the pillows. His wrists, too, are taken and tied up above his head to the same rope, to the same stake.
“I think you’ll be ready to bring home in a few more days, pet,” he says. “You’re almost done.”
Almost broken, you mean
The man lifts Iruka’s legs over his shoulders and thumbs at his hole. “So pretty. I like this much better than taking you from behind. I get to see that beautiful scar, the play of your face. You can’t imagine how beautiful your eyes are, full of fear. But you don’t have to be afraid right now, pet. Your eyes are just as beautiful in the throes of ecstasy.”
At the sound of chirping electricity screeching in the cavern, Iruka snaps his eyes open—he didn’t realize they were closed—and feels his heart begin to race. The man is suddenly gone from his looming position over Iruka; he lowers his legs back down, bending his knees. The grunt and gurgle of death is sweet to his ears, but he holds back his tears for when he is sure this isn’t a hallucination.
Unruly silver hair comes into view first, and then the careful fingertips dipping to pick at the paper tag stuck to his neck. The mask, Konoha hitai-ate, the exposed sharingan and gentle gray eye beside it; Iruka hiccups a sob.
“You came,” he whispers.
~
Kakashi pulls the chakra repression seal off Iruka’s neck and tosses it away.
Iruka whispers something, he doesn’t catch it, but he nods anyway. “Let’s get you home, dear,” he says, and cuts the ropes keeping Iruka’s neck and wrists bound to the stake in the ground.
He looks around the cave, but Iruka’s clothes and gear are missing. Kakashi pops a scroll from his own vest and unseals a spare set of his own clothes; they’ll be a little tight, and a little long, but he can’t—can’t let anyone else…
Gods. Fuck.
What good is he, if he can’t even keep one person safe?!
He helps Iruka into his clothes. His heart warms to see Iruka lift the collar of the shirt and pull it up to his nose and take a deep breath, scenting it. “Can you walk?” he asks once Iruka’s clothed.
Iruka shudders. “Probably not,” he says. His voice is small, like it is when he comes out of a dissociation episode. Shit, how many did he have? “I can try, though,” he continues, and then he stupidly pushes himself up to standing and immediately sways to the side.
Kakashi jumps up to catch him, cradling his partner—will he still trust him after all this, shit, he fucked up so badly they might not make it through this without breaking up, no—and slipping his arms around Iruka’s knees and back. “Please don’t strain yourself, dear,” he grits. “Let me help.”
Iruka nods and wraps his arms around his neck. Kakashi begins flickering out of the cave. He has the rapist’s body in a scroll in his vest, so someone can autopsy it when they get home. Everything else he left. He can’t—
He can’t be in that cave another second.
Iruka burrows into the collar of his flak vest and is muttering again. This time, Kakashi focusses and listens; he wishes he hadn’t.
“You came. You came. You came.”
His heart breaks. Had their fight really unsettled Iruka enough that he thought…
He chokes, presses a kiss to Iruka’s hair and mutters back, “Always, love. Always.”
~
Kakashi doesn’t leave Iruka’s side throughout his admission into the hospital, various check-ups, blood tests, rape-trauma treatments, oral report; he has to leave the room for the standard psych evaluation, and then again when Rikona-sensei arrives for their own session. But he stands sentinel just outside and waits until he’s let back in, and the second he’s allowed he’s asking for Iruka’s hands and pressing kisses to rope-burned wrists.
He finds out that the pigeon had delivered a letter from one Sato Touma, declaring that the shinobi Umino Iruka, registration number 011850, had completed his latest mission, and to not come searching for him as he was now a pet of the Sato family, barring a training and testing period. Tsunade made the right call in sending her strongest shinobi after Touma—if she’d let it go, the Sato family could have assumed that any Konoha shinobi were free for the taking. Sending Kakashi was a show of force.
The Sato family won’t touch Konoha again. Not with Touma dead in their morgue.
This… doesn’t put Kakashi at ease. He can’t sleep. Can’t eat. Iruka’s supposed to be released from the hospital tomorrow. He’ll feel better once they’re behind Iruka’s wards. No one gets past those wards without Iruka’s permission.
“Kakashi?”
He realizes he’s been pacing, and collapses onto the chair beside Iruka. “What do you need?” he asks.
Iruka is… strangely calm. Actually, that’s not so strange if he thinks about it—and Kakashi really doesn’t want to think about why Iruka’s calm about having been brutally raped. Because if he thinks about it, he’ll remember Sato, and Mizuki, and then the Hate will start to fester again and this is not the time nor the place—
“I told him to stop,” he whispers. Louder, he continues, “I-I fought as hard as I could.”
Kakashi takes his hands and holds them between both of his own. “Iruka, dear, I’m sorry. I should have been faster. I—”
“Don’t you get it? I told him to stop. I fought him. Me. I fought him,” there’s a slight hint of hysteria in his voice, but Iruka’s smiling through the tears collecting at the corner of his eyes. “Maybe I wasn’t… I wasn’t strong enough to save myself. But I can do it now, Kakashi.” He sniffs, hiccups, and says, “I can—I can tell someone to stop.”
And suddenly, Kakashi understands. “You. Oh, love,” and Iruka pulls Kakashi into the embrace as Kakashi falls into it. He chuckles, his own brand of hysteria bubbling up out of his chest. “You were never—you—Gods all that before, it was never about me, was it?”
“I needed to know I could do it,” Iruka mutters. “If I’d told you what I was doing, the reaction wouldn’t have been real. I needed. I needed to be able to ask even though I knew it was going to disappoint you. To anger you.”
“I was never angry,” Kakashi assures him quickly. “Frustrated, annoyed; yes. Never angry. Fuck, I thought I’d lost your trust somewhere, somehow.”
“I could never have done it with anyone else,” Iruka nuzzles his hair. “I never doubted your ability to stop. It was never about that.”
“I’m. Still really frustrated about it all.” Iruka nods above him. Kakashi continues, “But I’m so happy for you, love, that you’ve found that strength.”
“I’ve found that strength thanks to you,” Iruka says, carding his fingers through Kakashi’s hair. “If this had happened two years ago, or more, I… I wouldn’t have. Shit, I would have been worse than a doll for him. And, yeah, I had a few dissociation episodes; but I resisted them. Before, I would have just gone down and-and never come back.”
Kakashi picks his head back up and drags his mask down with a finger. “Can I kiss you?”
Iruka’s smile brightens like the dawn. “Yes. Please.”
They keep it chaste—they’re still in the hospital, and Iruka could have new triggers neither of them know about yet. But the simple press of lips on lips is enough to make Kakashi’s chest pound and his fingertips tingle. Gods he almost lost this.
“He had me believing you wouldn’t come,” Iruka reveals into their kiss.
“My love,” Kakashi murmurs back, lips to lips, “I will always come for you.”
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Operation Asteria
from x
“Hey loverboy,” Jackson Vance called mockingly from across the open space.
The biotics lit the darkened underground bunker around them, and Isaac turned off the parts of him that couldn’t focus when Eva was near. He wasn’t easily baited and slipped naturally into a familiar, lighthearted rhythm.
“You know, I can’t say I blame you, Cap. I’d abuse all of my power just to get to that sweet heat between her legs too.”
Max Townsend was one of Isaac’s best and oldest friends. He was also a seasoned N7 Destroyer. They’d been cooped up or deployed together for a cumulative total of at least ten years and had spent a fair amount of that time actively trying to kill each other. Which was helpful in a lot of ways generally, but Isaac was extra grateful for it now.
“Look at our girl.” Vance gestured to Eva who looked like she was quite literally fighting for her life and Isaac scrambled to push it all down. If anyone could survive a direct confrontation with two Asaris it could only be Eva. He hoped. “Fucking her way to the top.” Vance faked a sniffle. “I’m sort of proud.”
Isaac didn’t bother to explain the Alliance chain of command. Or how many other old soldiers were more impressive than him. The right arm of his armor frosted as the physical pneumonic of his hand gestures activated his suit’s cryo system to expel a flash freeze that sprayed out in a cone shape in front of him. It didn’t still the Destroyer, but it slowed the targeting mechanisms that his T5-V battlesuit’s VI used to lock onto threats long enough for the Paladin to roll into cover behind a half wall next to a row of terminals.
Isaac could hear the familiar grinding of the suit’s shoulder-mounted hawk missile launcher’s tiny gears as they struggled to shake off the freeze. Vance cursed and leveled his rifle. His armor glowed with a shaky red haze that told the Paladin he’d activated the suit’s devastator mode to boost his damage at the cost of movement. The choice confirmed Isaac’s suspicions that Vance was an idiot thug, not a seasoned soldier, because N7 Paladins were notoriously fast.
“Have you found that mole on her inner thigh? Right in that soft spot where her leg meets her hips. God she tastes so good there.” Vance intended to poke Isaac, but the Paladin didn’t spit back. Eva had a lot of fascinating beauty spots but the one on her chest, closest to her heart, was his favorite. He tried not to think of it.
Isaac popped out of cover, expecting the barrage of bullets to ripple against his suit’s shielding and adjusted his body weight accordingly. He stretched out another pneumonic, detonating the cryo explosion with a burst of fire from his other gauntlet. The plasma blast ate a decent chunk of Vance’s shielding but, again, he wasn’t stopped.
“We’ve got your boy. We’ve got your disc.” The Destroyer grunted as he expelled the heat sink from his rifle and reloaded with practiced speed. “And now we’re going to wipe you off the map before we leave.”
Vance fired a stream of armor-piercing rounds across the open space, chasing the Paladin as he rolled between cover to get closer before the Destroyer could move away. They collided in a show of smoke and fire as Isaac closed the distance only to tuck behind his omnishield when the suit’s shoulder rockets beeped their targeting confirmation. He waited for the ripple to subside and almost let up too early when a barrage of frag grenades shook the ground around him as he hunkered down.
A small piece of shrapnel from the edge of a metal storage crate at his back pierced his armor when one of the grenades rolled past him. He felt the familiar sting of a foreign object bite into his flesh as the scrap metal found a weak joint on the back of his armored knee as he crouched. He couldn’t help the painful yelp as his gloved fingers dug deep enough to pull it out. He threw the bloody piece on the ground, and it made a small jingling sound as it wobbled to a still stop.
“There we go. I knew you could bleed.” The venom in Vance’s voice was dripping. “Do you think Eva is bleeding right now?”
Isaac’s shield fizzled to nothing, and he leveled his pistol expecting the worst. The ringing sounds from the combo explosions and the smoke that filled the space around him were disorienting but he stayed steady on his feet. Isaac choked down the creeping fear at the thought of the Fury being caught in more than she could sustainably handle as every minute of the struggle stretched between them.
He rolled out of the way, just barely, before another rocket screamed by. It impacted another crate behind him that send shards flying. He ducked his back against a wall and popped his shield to spare another jab until the pieces clinked, falling onto the metal floor.
Isaac rolled out of cover, finding his feet lightly, straining his eyes and his suit’s telemetry as he searched for the Destroyer through the smoke. The spot behind his knee stung as the medigel sank in, knitting the raw wound beneath the tight fibers of his undersuit, but he wouldn’t let it affect his certain stride.
He knew he wouldn’t win the long game if Vance had enough ammo so he decided to close the distance. He tucked his pistol and his head, sprinting in a zig zag to delay the missile launcher’s targeting systems until he was close enough to swipe his shield with the full force of his rage of behind it.
The tech upgrades to his kit made a wall of flaming plasma between them and Vance screamed as the rifle fell from his hands to clatter on the floor. Isaac knew firsthand how the heat of the shield could make a man feel like he was going to boil to death in his own sweat. He knew firsthand the impossible weight of it as the tiny motors in his suit amplified his natural strength to unnatural levels.
Vance’s armored boots skidded across the floor and Isaac’s shield fizzled to nothing only for him to step forward and bash the Destroyer again, pinning him against the concrete wall under the weight of the suit and the shield. Isaac was grateful no one would see the way his teeth bared when he doubled down, intent to press the life from the idiot thug before he got another word out.
A cry that his bones recognized as Eva but his ears had never heard rang out in the distance. Isaac’s blood chilled.
“Sounds like they got her.” Vance sputtered, his hands grasping, gloved fingers clawing for purchase but meeting only chemical heat. “Better dead than yours.”
Isaac knew exactly how much pain he had to be in. He knew that if he didn’t move soon the fibers of the undersuit they both wore would begin to fuse with the younger man’s skin in all the hottest places. He knew what that smelled like. He wanted it. But he needed to back up Eva.
His shield fizzled to nothing, and Isaac stepped back to let the Destroyer crumple to his knees. The battlesuit sparked in several critical places and Isaac had a very good idea of the string of system notifications and warnings that the VI must have been spitting out over the Destroyer’s HUD.
“Old age has its benefits,” Isaac started. “Patience. Perspective.” He halfheartedly wondered if the man’s medigel delivery systems were still functional before he kicked him to the ground. “Experience.”
He grunted, a feral sound heavy with the weight of his fear and frustration as he slammed the shield down on the Destroyer’s armored shoulder. Vance howled, a blood curdling scream as the onmishield sliced through his broken battlesuit, biting a chunk out of the floor beneath him with the unyielding impact and cauterizing the wound at the same time.
“You’re an idiot and a thug. And you don’t deserve this stripe.” Isaac bent enough to make sure the Destroyer was watching as he lifted the armored limb that once belonged to Vance and threw it carelessly over his shoulder like he was packing for a trip.
Eva screamed again in the distance and Isaac had to go.
#isaac cerrillo#eva novakov#he's only not freaking out about luca because he knows ben is there okay asgkfash#good luck bad guys lol
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if it's not much of a bother, can i ask for a scenario where izumi has a little sister (reader) and she visits the mankai company one day because she misses her? how would the actors (you can pick who!) react knowing that all the acting genes went to the little sister and how do they find out about it? uwu thank you very much~ ღ
So sorry for the delay! It was really nice to come up with the idea so thank you very much for the prompt sweetie! 💕
Hope you like it
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Mankai watching Izumi’s sister! reader acting for the first time
It was Thursday morning and being weekday, everyone was running in and out around the dorm; students were in school, adults were on their jobs and you were about to ring the doorbell for the fifth time, when a man in a green suit with patches came out followed by a talking bird.
“Stupid Matsukawa, stupid, stuuupid!”
You wondered if that was the norm around there.
“Will you shut it!” the man with old clothes scolded the animal as he turned to concentrate on the call. He bowed repeatedly to an invisible person “I’m so sorry sir!, I must have taken it to the opposite place…ugh?! Y-you need it that early?! I-I’m outside now, so I’ll run to-!
Unsure, you tried to catch his attention, seeing he might be gone before you could talk “Uh…” He turned, breathing so heavily that you jumped a bit “Hi, sorry I’m Izumi’s-”
The man didn’t even let you finish, “Director! She has gone to help a fellow theatre so you can wait inside! I need to solve some matters but Kamekichi will show you the way” he pointed to the bird flying over you two. At this point, you were barely following what was going on “Now, if you’ll excuse me!”
Before you could even respond, the manager of Mankai had already sprint to try and fix whatever accident had happened. You scratched your neck.
“Come inside, visitor, it’s too hot outside!” he yelled, “I’m going to get a sunburn!”
You pulled out your phone as you eyed the talking bird. Hadn’t expected your surprise visit to turn out like that. You were thinking about actually calling Izumi but...
You lifted your head “Okay little bird, guess I’ll enter. You’re right that it’s too hot to wait here anyway”
“My name’s Kamekichi, you dumbo!”
The bird turned and you followed him inside the big dorm. Excusing yourself before taking your shoes off, you waited for a response that didn’t come. For being such a big place filled with people, as Izumi always said, it sure was empty.
You roamed around the area, not sure if to stay in the lounge or investigate a bit as you waited. It was spacious and something smelled great over what you guessed was the kitchen “Curry…?”
A happy smile reached your face when you saw it was indeed curry. You had missed Izumi’s cooking so much now that she lived here. But you heard her so happy about the theatre that instead of asking her again to try and make time to go home, you took the first train in the morning to go to Veludo.
Gaining more confidence, you decided to look around some more, finding in no time the big courtyard.
“Everyone lives around the garden!” placing himself on your shoulder, Kamekichi had taken the guide role seriously. The bird had been talking non-stop, pointing with his beak different places and random objects you two found on the way.
…There was an insanely big amount of triangle objects laying around, now that you noticed.
“Mmm?” reaching one of the benches, you found what seemed to be a script. Not surprising, taking into account there was always supposed to be a few plays in motion.
You hesitated, but in the end, you couldn’t help but want to take a short look. You had read such great comments about Mankai, it had been a pity you lived so far to make it between your classes and works “Oh… this is pretty interesting?” flipping the pages, you found yourself needing to know more about how that play would turn out. The characters' dialogues were really good and, at some point, unconsciously, you found yourself reciting the lines out loud, enthusiastically.
So enthusiastically, that you had effectively caught the attention of the few dormant that hadn’t noticed a new person from inside their rooms.
..................................
“Thank god we are finally here!” Izumi left the bags on the entrance as Tsumugi held the door so Tasuku could bring some boxes inside “Matsukawa-san…?” she hummed as she opened again her phone.
“Something wrong?” Tsumugi walked next to her as they both headed towards the living room.
Izumi frowned, her fingers moving around the screen “Yeah, looks like he mistook another… Uh, guys? What are you…? Banri-kun, what are you doing here?!”
The autumn leader rolled his eyes while Citron greeted them with a whisper and Azuma smiled. All three of them were looking at the courtyard in silence.
“We were enjoying the performance. Cute, right?” Azuma pointed at you, moving around in the garden “She has been reading out loud the script someone from the summer troupe must have left. I have to say, I’m impressed”
“Yeah, don’t know who she is but she sure has some freakin’ skills man”
Izumi’s eyes opened wide when she heard your voice. No way that was you. When...?
“Yes, she is very amazing! No matter how much noise Banri or me made when we left the rooms, she did not get distracted!”
It was true. You were so immersed in the script that you had barely paid attention to what surrounded you. That’s how good you thought the script was. You were just about to turn when something grabbed you, making you scream.
“Y/N!”
“I-Izumi?”
“Why are you here? Wait, I’m confused, did we arrange anything? Sorry not being here! I’m usually around the dorm but a fellow theatre asked us to help carry some props and they usually help us so much that-“
You smiled. Your sister was one hell of a bouncing ball since you had memory “We didn’t decide anything! I just really missed you so I decided to drop by”
Izumi gasped and tightened the hug, saying over and over how happy she was to finally see you again and how much she had missed you too. You laughed, squeezing her too and enjoying her warmth and familiar smell.
“Were you here long?”
“For a bit. I think it was the manager who let me in and, uh, the bird showed me around?”
She nodded, understanding the confusion in your voice “Yes, they are… anyway” releasing you, she looked at you up and down “You look great! I’m so happy you are here. Come, let me present you some of the actors. Others are working and the youngest in high school… well, at least all were supposed too” she glared at Banri.
The crowd that had awaited watching the sibling exchange approached you, still shocked by finding out you two were related.
“So you are director’s sister?”
“Pleased to meet you, Y/N-san”
“It is so happy to meet you, yes! Let us hear stories from young times later!“
“Yo, little director, not bad”
You now understood why Izumi said they had a vast variety of personalities within the dorm “Nice to meet you!”
“These are Citron, Azuma-san, Banri-kun and… Tsumugi, where’s Tasuku?”
“Was she the one acting?” a man the age of Izumi, pretty well built, had appeared from inside, eyeing you with an intense look in his eyes “I could hear from the entrance. Good voice projection”
“This is Y/N, my sister”
“That delivery was indeed really beautiful” the young man with light blue hair smiled at you and you couldn’t help but blush at the compliment “I’m assuming it’s not your first time”
“Fufu we did have fun seeing your acting”
“After deciding you were not a spy, of course!”
…You wanted to hide embarrassed. Just how many people had been watching you? “I’m so sorry! I took this script and read it out loud” you held the script and gave it to Izumi.
Banri whistled, hands inside his pocket “You gave it a good read too. So that’s where all the actin’ from Yukio-san went to, uh”
“We will have a talk later about you being here on a school day, Banri-kun… I wouldn’t be speaking so cheekily”
Tsumugi laughed nervously at the exchange, turning again to you “Do you act, perhaps?”
You considered it “I’m doing theatre but it’s a small club. It’s a hobby rather than the passion Izumi and our father had”
“Don’t say that, you guys are great! You really need to rethink about doing theatre, I could help you with…”
Every one of the actors could already picture just how many times you two must have had that same conversation, judging by your face. Tasuku decided to interfere.
“You know, I wasn’t able to watch you, care if we do an improv here?”
“Ah, as expected of one of our biggest acting addicts”
“I too want to perform the improv!”
Azuma looked at you, smiling softly when he noticed you fidgeting. Before you could reject anything though, Izumi answered for you “That’s such a great idea!”
Guess you didn’t have a choice.
…………………………………….
“We’re back!”
“I can smell curry even from here…”
“Masumi-kun, stop! I’m sure director will be there even if you…!”
“F in the chat, I’m so tired, Tenten…!”
“Why are you looking at me like I should do something about it?!”
“You guys tell me, I still need to get to my part-time job as soon as we finish lunch…”
The summer and spring members entered the dorm chatting with each other, as always, when Sakuya stopped and headed to the garden, hearing the noise “Why is everyone outside?”
The rest followed. There you stood facing Tasuku with a Citron hiding behind in the middle of the courtyard. The others were sitting on the benches listening to you three.
You kicked the floor “What do you mean we can’t go?!” you pointed to yourself and Citron “You promised us!”
“I’m not repeating myself. Work piled up”
“But…!”
The green-haired designer of Mankai raised his eyebrows “Who’s that?”
“Are they doing a skit?”
“Looks like it”
Tenma crossed his arms, watching your movements… you were actually pretty good.
“...Is it me or she looks like director?”
…………………….
“That wasn’t half bad” Tasuku smiled when you all finished.
“I too did enjoy it in the performance of us siblings against a strict father!”
“You are even better than I remembered, Y/N!” you couldn’t help but chuckle when you saw your sister’s happy face. Opening your mouth to call her out, applause followed behind you.
“That was so amazing!!”
When did all those people come from?! You turned to see more actors watching you from the lounge. You glanced at your sister and she smiled “I guess we could take a break and have lunch together, you all deserve it!”
You nodded, entering inside to introduce yourself to the rest of them. You couldn’t wait to see what else was to find out about Mankai.
EXTRA:
“So you two are sister...?”
“Yup!”
“Never would have guessed it, acting-wise”
“Same! Your acting skills were EPIC! Do you have instablam?”
“Sister-in-law... need to get her blessing- muhpm!”
“Masumi, don’t!” both Sakuma and Tsuzuru shut him up covering his mouth before you heard anything. You narrowed your eyes, letting it be.
“....anyway, I saw there’s curry? I’m so excited!” you mentioned as you all entered inside.
Izumi gasped beaming as she grabbed your arm “Oh, you just wait to try it, Y/N! I found these spices the other day that…!
You two chatted heatedly about new recipes you both had created as the actors looked at each other with entertained expressions. Maybe you two didn’t share acting genes… but it looked like the curry obsession really ran in your family’s blood.
___________________________________________________________
Have a wonderful day! 💕
Edit: If interested, here is a kind of sequel to this Sister! reader with the autumn troupe
#A3! Actor Training Game#a3 act#a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#a3#reader insert#izumi tachibana#tasuku#citron#banri settsu#sakuya sakuma#kazunari miyoshi#a3 kazunari#a3 tsuzuru#azuma yukishiro#a3 azuma#sister! reader#a3 izumi#a3! tenma
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just my luck: chapter 1
Fandom: Wannabe Challenge Characters: Taehee x Reader
Summary (placeholder): Having been cursed to live a life filled with misfortunes, moving to a new city to start anew was, as expected, a difficult process. But things start to change after you encounter a mysterious doctor who seems to know you even though you’ve never met him before.
Notes:
Will contain spoilers for Taehee’s Story.
The ‘Reader’ character will be left unnamed, and there are no mentions of ‘y/n’.
Taehee is trained in western medicine here, instead of oriental medicine.
The reader character will not be based on the in-game MC, other than her looks. The differences are because personally I think the in-game MC and Taehee’s personality don’t really match somehow.
This is basically my version of events of how Taehee and MC meet again. The details and events in this are not true to the game, other than Taehee’s backstory.
For now it’ll be here on tumblr (if and until I move it to AO3) and i’ll be using the tag #justmyluck on the blog for chapter updates.
***
The rain was loud in your ears. Cars whizzed by you, water splashing beneath the tires and onto the pavement as they went by, and people hurried about with their umbrellas that did little to keep them dry in this torrential weather.
You stood still in the middle of the hustle and bustle, your luggage by your side and your broken umbrella hanging limp and useless in your hand. The cold rainwater seeped into your clothes, and you shivered as a chill ran down your spine when the strong wind blew against your frame.
You could feel odd stares being directed your way, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your phone battery had been depleted, which meant you could no longer refer to Poogle Maps to get to where your new apartment was. You had already waited for the past hour trying to hail a cab to no avail, and no one was accepting your request on the Duber app.
As if moving wasn’t stressful enough already, all of this just had to happen. But you weren’t surprised in the least—it was just another typical day in your unfortunate life.
For as long as you could remember, you had terrible luck. At first it was trivial things like always getting the shitty prizes in a lucky draw no matter how many times you spun the wheel, and always losing in games of chance against friends. No matter where you went or what you did, it seemed you were doomed to consistently draw the short end of the stick.
Your luck seemed to only get worse as you grew older. Injuries grew increasingly common, and more severe. You didn’t think there were so many ways a person could get hurt—you had to learn it the hard way, from slipping on a banana peel, getting knocked down by someone who accidentally ran straight into you, getting hit by stray soccer balls or baseballs in school… The events were countless.
Your classmates used to joke that you had been cursed by a witch when you were younger. Sometimes you found yourself wondering if that was true after all. There was only so much bad luck one person could have in their life, and you seemed to be attracting a never-ending supply of it.
You’d hoped that maybe things would change after moving to this new neighbourhood. You had even specifically asked for an apartment that had ‘good feng-shui’, hoping that would make some kind of difference.
It didn’t. You hadn’t even arrived in your new home yet, but you could already tell that things weren’t going to change. If you had been cursed by a witch or been fated to suffer neverending misfortune, then moving to a new neighbourhood to start afresh wasn’t going to change anything.
With a sigh and a shiver, you decided to shake yourself out of your low spirits. No point dwelling on these things, you may as well hurry to your apartment before something worse happened. So you picked up the handle of your luggage and continued trudging on, your feet making squelching sounds with each step from the water that had filled your shoes. You’d get home one way or another, and a little rain wasn’t about to stop you.
Just as you finished that thought, the handle of your luggage broke, and the whole thing tumbled straight into a muddy puddle, sending specks of mud flying and staining your jeans.
It took everything in you to suppress a frustrated scream when you dipped your fingers into the dirty waters to pick up your luggage again.
***
By the time you arrived at the apartment building, you looked like you had been to hell and back.
But hey, at least you had come out alive, right?
Your landlord had been surprised to see you drenched from head to toe, and she had kindly offered a fresh towel and some hot tea for you after inviting you into her home. She was a kind elderly lady, and her warm welcome brightened your mood considerably. The tea had felt extra warm as you made small talk with her before taking the key to your apartment.
But then your mood sank right back down to rock-bottom when you realised that you had to carry your heavy luggage up five whole flights of stairs, because it just so happened that the elevator wasn’t working. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anyone you could ask for help—certainly not the sweet old landlady. You felt bad to bother any of your neighbours too.
So an hour and one rough tumble down the stairs later, you miraculously made it all the way up to your door. You would be jumping for joy if your arms didn’t feel like they were about to fall off. All you wanted to do was take a hot shower, lie down and get some sleep. Maybe take some painkillers before that too, because you could feel a migraine coming up.
The apartment smelled a little musty when you entered, but otherwise, everything looked great. It was bare, seeing as there was some delay in the delivery of your furniture, but it was clean. There weren’t any bugs that you could see from a quick survey of the rooms, so that was good enough in your book.
Looking around your simple studio apartment, you smiled to yourself, glad that you had finally made it here despite the many hiccups along the way. Nothing could dampen your spirits now; moving here marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life, and you were ready for your new job that would be starting in two weeks.
You had a good feeling about all this somehow, despite dripping wet all over your floor and even though your sides hurt from falling down the stairs together with your luggage earlier.
Cursed or not, you were excited about living here already.
***
Two days later, your furniture still had not arrived. You had to make do with the sleeping bag you’d packed in your luggage for contingencies such as this. The moving company wasn’t getting back to you even though you had sent them a string of emails asking for updates. You hoped it was just a lack of staff around on the weekends, and that someone would get back to you by Monday.
Apart from that, there weren’t any major problems. Everything in the apartment was working fine. You had made sure to check everything to make sure you wouldn’t suffer some kind of freak accident in your own home—it had happened before, when the ceiling fan in the living room fell just when you left to take a drink. (Looking at it from another angle, you had been incredibly lucky with that close shave.)
The only issue left was the fever that you had woken up to that morning, definitely because you had been caught in the rain. Thankfully, the landlady had informed you that there was a clinic just across the street, so you made plans to go after forcing yourself to eat half of an apple. You didn’t have an appetite but you’d probably faint on the way if you went on an empty stomach, and ending up in the hospital was definitely not on your to-do list here.
It was warm out when you stepped out of your apartment building. The sun was up, and the temperature was just right. Perfect for a walk. You’d probably enjoy it better if your head wasn’t pounding so much.
It wasn’t too difficult to find the clinic. Like the landlady said, it was right across the street, a mere five minutes’ walk from your apartment. And then right down the street was a convenience store too. You’d go pick up some snacks and ready-made foods later — it’d be too tiresome to cook while sick.
The clinic wasn’t too full, thankfully. There were maybe about four to five people inside when you arrived, and after registering at the counter you took a seat and checked your phone. You hadn’t had the energy to reply to anything yesterday, so it seemed that your phone had blown up while you were gone.
The messages were mainly from Seohee, your best friend. You saw multiple missed calls and messages from her, and from what you could glean from the message previews, she had been worried because you just went MIA without updating her on your whereabouts. She had been worried from the start when she heard that you were going to live alone in a new city, without anyone accompanying you.
Grimacing, you swiped right to open the chat, and you typed a quick message to assure her that you were doing fine and adjusting great, casually omitting the part where you had fallen sick and your furniture hadn’t arrived yet. No need to worry her, she had enough things on her plate to manage.
The other messages were from random group chats that you didn’t have the energy to read at the moment, so you locked your phone and closed your eyes momentarily, leaning back in your seat and resting your head against the wall. The doctors seemed to be taking a while…
About half an hour later, your number was called. Finally.
You stood up a bit too quickly, and black spots promptly appeared in your vision while your head started to spin. A nod was all you could manage when the receptionist pointed to one of the rooms down the hallway, while you took hesitant steps forward and tried to steady yourself. Eventually the dizziness subsided and your head cleared up a bit when you read the name written on the door plate: Dr. Taehee Kim.
You repeated the name a few times in your head. It had a nice ring to it. You knocked twice on the wooden door and pushed down on the door handle to enter.
“Good morning.” You heard a deep, male voice, and your first thought was that you liked it. There was a soothing quality to it, and maybe it was an exaggeration but your headache seemed to lessen just from hearing him speak.
You looked up, wearing a polite smile and returning the morning greeting. Or at least, you were about to, but then your voice caught in your throat and you found yourself staring into the eyes of who was quite possibly the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. He had thick, wavy black locks parted to the side, and a pair of deep set, dark grey-ish green eyes—a colour you had never seen before. His complexion was fair and otherwise flawless, and you could tell from his defined jawline and broad shoulders that he worked out regularly too. He looked handsome enough to be a model, and you couldn’t help but stare with widened eyes, while heat began to gather in your face. Whether it was from the fever, or because of him, you couldn’t tell.
But getting to see such a handsome doctor… today had to be your lucky day. For once.
The only thing was, it seemed to be the exact opposite for him. Contrary to the tone of his greeting, he now looked like he had just seen a ghost. He sprang to his feet the moment he saw you, and his chair rolled backwards until it hit the wall behind him with a loud thump. His eyes were blown wide, lips parted as he stared at you, searching your face for something… You didn’t know what, exactly.
The normal thing to do now would be to sit in the empty chair next to his desk and for him to do his job, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move a single step. Not when he was looking at you like this, as if he had a million things to say but couldn’t. So you stood there, feet glued to the spot by the door as you stared back, blinking and confused.
He spoke again after the tense silence stretched on for much longer than you’d have liked.
“Is… Is it really you? Am I dreaming? Is this… real?”
In the silence of the room, his shaky whisper rang loud and clear in your ears.
Affection. Sadness. Longing. They were unmistakable in his wavering voice, in his eyes that were starting to glisten with what seemed like tears.
The only problem was, you didn’t understand why. Much less why it was being directed to you. You were missing something here, or maybe it was him. You didn’t know. Your head hurt, and you just wanted some medicine, and then to go home to sleep this fever off.
But now your doctor was walking towards you, each footstep ringing in your ears as he drew closer and closer, his perplexed expression remaining the same. And for some reason you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his, much less find the strength to push him away when he stood an arm’s length away and gently held you by the shoulders. Even the way he tried to hold you was strange — his hands were shaking and his palms were barely brushing against your shoulders, hesitant and afraid.
Maybe you had spoken too soon. It probably wasn’t a lucky day at all—when would you learn? Now you were stuck in an office with a weirdo who was getting way too emotional over a simple consultation.
“A-Are you… okay?” The words came out as a timid squeak, and you watched as he blinked, though his eyes didn’t lose the glass-like quality to them. The ceiling light was reflecting off his eyes, and they seemed to be glistening with fresh tears.
“I never thought… I… I can’t believe it’s- it’s- H-How could this happen?”
You flinched when you felt something brush against your cheek, and it took a few seconds for you to realise that the back of his hand was ghosting over your skin.
Belatedly, your fight-or-flight response finally kicked in and you pushed his hand away, putting your hands out to make him step back and put some much-needed distance between you. Handsome or not, this guy was getting downright creepy and inappropriate.
“Look, I don’t know who you are, and I think you’ve got the wrong person. I’ll just go to another clinic-” You turned around, ready to hightail it out of his office, when you felt his hand on your wrist, holding you in place.
“No, wait. Please- Please wait. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, this is all my fault.”
A voice pounded in your head then. An image flashed in your mind, one of a man who didn’t belong in this time period. He was dressed in traditional clothes, and he was holding you with tears streaming down his face. You couldn’t quite make out his face from the blurred picture that came and went like lightning, but the sound of his voice was the same as this doctor’s desperate plea.
Then dizziness hit you once more, but this time it didn’t subside. The last thing you remembered before your vision turned black was the sound of him calling your name.
***
A/N: I will be leaving this on tumblr for now, I’ll probably start posting on AO3 when I have more chapters ready to post. :) I’d love to hear your thoughts on this first chapter and thank you for reading! :)
#wannabe challenge#wannabe challenge taehee#kim taehee#wannabe challenge fanfiction#wannabe challenge fanfic#taehee fanfiction#my writing#just my luck
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PERCIVAL "PERCY" IGNATIUS WEASLEY is a PURE-BLOOD WIZARD. They’re a DOMINANT, a GRYFFINDOR, and are 22 years of age. Their wand is 13 ¼ inches long, made of vine wood, and possesses a dragon heartstring core. It is currently in Percy's possession. They identify as DEMI-BISEXUAL and are currently SINGLE. They are UNCLAIMED. Oddly enough, they look an awful lot like HARRIS DICKINSON.
They are TAKEN.
Biography:
In many, many ways, his parents, his siblings — even Ron, Hermione and Harry — have an easy war. Hidden and on the run, their chance encounters with Death Eaters are few and far between, often in places they can simply Apparate out of. At the Ministry, Percy clocks in every day not knowing if it’ll be the last he lives.
It’s an exhausting sort of existence, but he plays his cards well, developing a fame for wide-eyed subservience — the estranged son of a blood traitor, overeager to legitimise his pureblood status once again. Adjectives like naïve and harmless follow him around, cloaking Percy in the rare kind of immunity only usually afforded to the truly ignorant. Slipping between shadows, he takes calculated risks and collects scraps of information, salvaging every useful — or condemning — bit of paper that he can. The darkest days of the Ministry of Magic often go like this. It's a quiet sort of resistance, bureaucracy: wielding it like a wand, employees cite the same “incomplete forms” no one would’ve batted an eye at just months before, effectively delaying new legislation. Nobody works extra hours, no one clocks in early, everyone takes their full days’ vacation. The muggleborn / halfblood purge leaves plenty of offices empty, and nobody bothers to make up their work. It piles on vacant desks for weeks, until the Death Eaters find some willing pureblood kid and plop them down on the chair with no training. They flounder. The proposition to amend the classification of Muggles from Beings to Beasts is sent back for revision no less than thirteen times, citing “grammar errors" some days and "ambiguous punctuation" the others. It goes mostly unpunished. It's clear very few of the purebloods the Death Eaters stationed at the Ministry have any inkling of how a government institution should run. Mostly, they just issue themselves raises and pay for extravagant meals out of the Ministry's coffers.
Midway through October, Percy’s sent to oversee the tipline. He makes eye contact with an individual he vaguely recalls as the Ravenclaw Prefect a year below him, and thanks every star in Merlin’s saggy y-fronts when he can’t for the life of him remember their name. A week later, arrest warrants for muggle-borns and half-breeds start making it to his desk. Colin Creevey, Janice Pepper, Ernie Entwhistle… Slipped between minutes of meetings, transfigured into a-quill-too-many on his desk, tucked into sandwiches delivered in brown paper bags. Percy takes advantage of the chaos the simultaneous muggle and wizarding wars of the 1940s had left Ministry records in to tweak family trees. And when he can’t fake a wizard into someone’s bloodline, he pays a visit to the Hog’s Head — after all, who’ll begrudge him a drink after work? He walks in, buys a beer, and heads to the dingy little bathroom in the back. Later, Aberforth Dumbledore will lift up the floorboards to find, in neat little bundles, delivery addresses, pages upon pages of fake documentation, and perfectly legal Portkey permissions — all signed by the nice bloke down at the Portkey office.
In March, Percy performs his first memory charm. Andrew Lefevre admits to treason under Cruciatus. He's suspended from the Magic is Might monument in the Atrium and publicly subjected to the Kiss. Percy takes off his glasses and blesses his farsightedness that he is not witness to it. (The screams — and his nightmares — make up every missed detail.)
They don’t talk about the things Percy did during the War. His family doesn’t ask — assuming he’d cowered behind his desk and buried his nose in his work —, and Percy doesn’t correct them. There's no point bringing it up in defeat. It’s safer for everyone involved that they don’t know about the thousands upon thousands of classified documents in his vault at Gringotts, just waiting for the opportunity to be useful: years of incriminating evidence against colourful characters like Dolores Umbridge; originals of every record he’d modified and faked in order to provide muggle-borns and half-bloods a claim to the magic they were being accused of stealing.
When they lose, and conditions are laid out, Percy bites the bullet. His family already hates him, after all; as far as anyone's aware, he's been an exemplary employee at the Death Eater Ministry. He spins a tale the size of which an Acromantula might be proud of: that he’d intended only to find his siblings and get them out, knowing he could change their minds. That in the heat of the moment they wouldn’t hear any of it, so brainwashed by his parents’ blind faith in Potter. When the Battle broke out, the Death Eaters had attacked him as they would have any other Weasley, and he’d had no choice but to fight them in order to continue living.
Percy pledges his allegiance to the Dark Lord, taking the only deal that'll allow him any agency over the fate of his family. As it turns out, said family endorsing the rumours of his spineless cowardice makes for a heck of an alibi.
When he was younger, Percy often wished that people around him would heed his warnings and requests — that his brothers stopped taking his things without permission; that Ron didn't throw himself in harm’s way for Harry Potter; that First Years stopped running in the halls and playing lightsabers with their wands. But this? This is perverse, a violation of autonomy and free will, and Percy couldn’t care less that he’s the one giving the orders. Once they dismiss him, red band tied around his wand, Percy rushes to the nearest toilet and promptly empties his stomach into it.
Then he's told he needs to go back to school. Lovely.
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Even if he doesn't say so - Chapter 2/?
Kylo/Hux/Poe Witcher AU
Chapter summary: The trouble with trinkets is they make people jealous. Or maybe that's just Kylo.
Chapter 1 here, 2 below or on Ao3, 3
Wordcount: 2029
Kylo raised his sword and brought it down fiercely on the horrible carnivorous vines he'd been hired to clear out of the local village's moor edge. The things had already munched their way through a cow and half a sheep, and the villagers were worried a child would be next. Perhaps to his own detriment, Kylo wasn't really all that interested in the reasons why he'd been hired; he was far more interested in the coin he'd get out of the experience, and the opportunity to really let loose some destructive energy.
Of course, Kylo had been trained well in fencing, dagger fighting, stave fighting and in hand to hand combat, but for his typical work, he favoured the longsword. The weight of it felt so right in his hands, the swing of it, the sharp edge or the blunt hit, the way it gleamed red after drawing blood. For most monsters, it worked perfectly well, but even then the necessity to dodge or force down some kind of potion usually took the pleasure out of the pure heft behind it. These vines, however, were easy game. They thrashed, shot out poisonous barbs, but mostly they stayed in one place. That meant Kylo could swipe the metal through them with abandon, and still be assured he'd meet his mark.
He hacked and slashed, let a furore course through his veins and out into his surroundings, over and over and over through whatever fleshy leaf, woody stem, fibrous buds he could reach with metal and intensity. When finally he let his sword drop to trail its point through the under-brush at his side, it was carnage. He went around the area, plunging the blade as deep as it would go into each root stump until he was satisfied that nothing was living, before stalking away from the destruction.
Chest heaving, he found a flat, dry piece of ground and lay down, looking up at the clouds and basking in the feeling of action still tingling through his arms, into his fingers, out into the earth and the air around him. He felt connected – to the ground he was lying on, to the source of his own power, without being worried he was lost in the force of a potion. This was all him.
Back in the village, when they'd described to Kylo what he was out to fight, Hux had listened carefully and given a fancy academic name for the vines. Kylo stuck with the common name, shrugging and standing to head off immediately. Hux had reprimanded him and delayed him until he'd found an anti-toxin potion to order Kylo to take before engaging the things, which Kylo had ignored. Now, looking down at his legs and seeing several barbs sticking out of them, Kylo again heard Hux telling him, “They have poisonous thorns, you know,” in exactly that tone that could piss him off just as much as it could make him want to pounce on Hux and make his annoyance known by ripping a few tunic seams in the process.
Still, the mage was right, as per fucking usual.
Kylo hauled himself up to sit, drew the potion out of a pocket and downed it, picking the barbs out while he waited for it to take effect. The pricks tingled a bit, but it wasn't anything too bad, certainly not to the severity that Hux's wariness had suggested. Though it was nice that he'd given him the potion. It felt like being looked out for.
He let his mind drift to how Hux and Poe would be doing. The mage was likely offering common-sense medical advice to the villagers in the most deadpan delivery possible, or flicking through one of the books he'd brought with him in his seemingly bottomless bags. Poe had been eager to do his usual thing and perform a little in the tavern. His voice was so wonderful, Kylo found himself thinking, the sparkle in his eyes as he reached the punchline of a bawdy tune, and the way he could command a room, tell a story better than anyone else before...
Well, Kylo should be getting back.
He stood, gave the area one last cursory look for any vines he'd missed, and, seeing nothing, turned to go. He was just sheathing his sword when he stopped, eyes catching on a clump of cheerful orange and white flowers which had managed to survive his visit, just on the edge of the carnage.
“Hmm.”
When Kylo returned to the village tavern and gave Poe those same flowers, Poe's face lit up with a smile. “Well, don't I feel special.”
Kylo noticed Hux eyeing them. Shit, had he done something wrong? “They're not poisonous too, are they?” he asked.
Hux seemed to snap out of some kind of reverie. “No, they're... they're just normal flowers. Excuse me,” he stood from the table he was sat at and made for the stairs.
If Kylo didn't know better about Hux's taste in “useless gestures” like flowers, he would have thought he should have brought Hux some as well.
[break]
They stopped at the next city. Kylo wasn't sure they should stay – there were no contracts of the style he took, and, in his opinion, staying pointlessly at a place like this was a recipe for trouble – but Poe wanted to get some supplies and try out a some new material with a more cosmopolitan crowd, and Hux claimed he had someone he wanted to visit, so stay they did.
Hux disappeared off into the bustling crowds early in the morning, and, later, Poe dragged Kylo off to the market. Kylo started to suspect he was only there so that Poe could make him carry things, which would grate on him usually, but he found didn't mind all that much, since it meant he got to spend time with the bard.
Poe was a people person, a fact which Kylo had always known, but it was never so clear as when he was not trying actively to entrance people as he did when performing – somehow not putting it on made it all the more obvious this was just him. He would flash charming grins to the women and manoeuvred through the crowds with an ease Kylo was jealous of.
For his own part, Kylo always felt the need to keep his hood low, to keep out of sight, even going so far as to cast a glamour some witch had taught him years ago. It was a weak thing, but eyes slid off him like water droplets off a bird. With Poe, however, he didn't need it; the man was so magnetic as it was, there was barely anyone who would bother to stare at anyone else. (Kylo included himself in that number.)
Finally, they came to a stand selling all sorts of gold and silver jewellery, pretty trinkets, gemstones on cords. One brooch caught Poe's eye – a dragon. “This is some amazing craftsmanship,” he noted, striking up an easy conversation with the stall keeper. When the man had to tend to another customer, he turned back to Kylo. “I'd love to fly. Do you think I'd be a good dragon?”
“You'd be great,” Kylo told him honestly. He was certain Poe would command the skies, given half the chance, and push back against the hunters until the entire Continent was dragon territory once again. The mental image morphed into one of Poe in front of a victory banner, the name of a great flying lizard no more than an epithet used by the forces he'd become leader of. It was a good look in him; he may not want to be in charge of his home kingdom, but with a cause like that, and people to follow him, he could be formidable. Lost in the daydream of Poe as some kind of dragon king of the skies, Kylo pointed at the brooch. “Do you want to get that?”
Poe looked at it thoughtfully, enough that Kylo could see the conflict in his thoughts. “Nah,” he said eventually, “it's expensive and... I have stuff at home.” He began walking away, and Kylo trailed after him, thinking it was a pity – the brooch would look so wonderful on him. “Maybe I could get Hux to transfigure me or something,” Poe mused, a glint of humour in his eye as Kylo blanched.
“I'm not sure that's how it works...”
“Imagine it though. Flap flap, blagh, I'm a dragon.”
[break]
A day after they left the city, they made their first camp at the edge of a copse. Kylo was checking over his armour while Poe and Hux were sat on a log opposite him, Poe cooking a fowl on the fire and Hux watching him do it. Kylo had let himself fall into a somewhat meditative state as he worked everything over, but a glint of silver and amber across camp hooked him out of it.
Hux had withdrawn a small pouch from his pocket, and withdrawn from that again a brooch. Another second let Kylo confirm – it was the very brooch from the city market. How had he known? Then he was handing it to Poe with a smooth, “I saw this and thought of you.” Bastard.
Poe was speechless for a second. “You shouldn't have,” were the first words out of his mouth.
“Well I can always-”
“No, I'll...” Poe reached to take it from Hux's hand. Kylo's jaw clenched as Poe's fingers lingered for too long. “Thanks, Hux. This is... wow.” He put it on, pinning it over his heart.
“It isn't straight.” Without waiting to be asked, Hux reached up with deft mage's fingers to fix it, smoothing out the fabric more than was necessary. “There.”
The leather armour in Kylo's grip creaked. Poe didn't hear it, but Hux shot him a look and... was that a smirk?
Then it hit Kylo; those flowers he'd given to Poe weeks ago must have made Hux jealous. It did not enter into Kylo's conception that Hux could simply like seeing Poe happy – happiness could be a part of it, certainly, but Hux was too cunning, too driven by ulterior motives for it to be that simple – or that Hux's feeling at seeing Poe like another person's gift could be any different to what Kylo himself was now feeling at seeing the same.
Well, if this was to be a game of one-upmanship, Kylo was sure he'd find a way to win. To make Poe smile like that, run a hand through his curls self-consciously as he now was – Kylo could do that just as well as Hux could. The rest of the evening, his mind was spinning with things he could give to the bard, trinkets of affection he could source the next time they crossed a place which dealt in such things.
The fire burned down and Hux retreated into his tent for the evening, Poe and Kylo settling on their bedrolls. They ended up facing each other, so Kylo, with his Witcher eyes, was not spared the view of Poe's finger fiddling with the brooch as he smiled to himself.
“He shouldn't have got it for me,” Poe mumbled again, as if sensing Kylo's train of thought, “It's probably gonna get broken.” Then, quieter, “I worry enough about whether you two will stay in one piece, I'd rather not worry about tiny things like this as well.”
Kylo thought about that for a minute. “You worry about us?” He couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. Out of all of them, Poe was the one who should be being worried about – Kylo himself was nigh on destructible, and Hux would probably survive anything out of sheer spite, even discounting his magic.
“Shut up,” Poe chuckled.
Kylo watched him smile up blankly at the canopy. And... if Poe could be happy like that without being showered with gifts, if it would please him more to worry about them less, maybe Kylo didn't need to compete with Hux. Perhaps the three of them were good enough as they were.
#darkgingerpilot#armitage hux#kylo ren#poe dameron#kylo/hux/poe#kylux#darkpilot#gingerpilot#my writing#fanfiction#witcher au#fantasy medieval au#star wars#even if he doesn't say so
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Give Me a Few. | Johnny
Request: hi hi can you write smtg with johnny? like anything hhhh im soft for the man
Author’s Note: I miss school. Yes, that might be a crime but hear me out: this quarantine’s got me missing school and having crises over assignments and quizzes and tests, which is crazy to me. So, this shall be a college fic.
Warnings: A few swear words and a little anxiety. English is my second language so there might be errors + my brain is pushing a writer’s block on me but I won’t let it so there might be some complications with the flow loves I’m sorry.
Word Count: 1.752 IT’S SHORT.
Genre: Fluff, Angst if you like squint really hard, college!au, platonicfriends!au
Hope everyone who reads it enjoys!! 💚Have a lovely time, and good night for me lol
“The fuck?”
Johnny’s head bolts up at the frustrated question. He sees you hunched over the printed papers with your mechanical pencil in your hand and your phone in the other, scrunched eyebrows looking at the white surface scribbled all over with equations and formulas. The desk has eraser dust all over it, all from the past few hours of tussling with questions he thought must simply be too difficult. “That doesn’t make any sense, you sure that’s right?”
He can hear the faint “Dude yes, I used the calculator.” of your friend on the other end of the line, and sees your hand spring up to your temple, rubbing the spot as you let out a sigh. Shortly after, though, the mechanical pen comes back in contact with the paper. “Okay okay. Just guide me through that one more time please.”
Your friend cleans their throat so clearly Johnny can hear it, and with that he returns to his own share of notes. He is much more relaxed than you are since he has left his fair share of difficult examinations behind, and although he has a lot more memorizing to do still, it is whatever. Just two more to go.
It takes a few minutes for your friend to go over everything they had just told you, with you writing the formulas and equations down step by step, circling the ones you deemed important. You thank your friend for helping before hanging up.
Which is when the mechanical pencil is thrown out of your hand and onto the desk. “I’m gonna fail this final so bad,” You whine out. “Why make the course mandatory if half the faculty doesn’t even get it?” Leaned back on the chair, you rub your eyes with your fists. There is nothing more you want other than being done with the finals already and to never have to be acquainted with this course ever again— but you also have to pass it in order for that to become true.
“Should I just help?” Johnny suggests, his own studies long forgotten at that point. Not that he had been doing a particularly good job at focusing on them.
He sees you hunch back over the desk, looking at him with your hands tiredly placed on your cheeks. “Hasn’t it been like.. 2 semesters since you’ve taken this? Plus, you have a test tomorrow.”
Johnny clicks his tongue. “It’s history anyway— I couldn’t care less, it’s easy. Multiple choice.” Shutting his notebook close (which still amazes you how he can take notes by hand of a class like history where it is dominantly lecture material that matters), he stands up and instead takes a seat on the chair beside yours. “I’d rather struggle with formulas than read about every revolution there ever was.”
“Easy to say when you ace tests without studying for them.” You mumble, which makes Johnny smile. He could not protest that because it was true. He was a good listener during class, which helped him tons with assignments, which in turn helped him not forget the class material. The only type of courses that truly got to him were the ones where most things are dependent on discussions, arguments or debates where he needed to improvise. Not because he is bad at any of them, just because he is the type to take problems more subjectively rather than objectively.
Johnny tells you to take a breather for a few minutes while he tries to get what is going on in the question. You see this as an opportunity to take a few sips from your sugary drink that is supposed to get you through this night’s study session that is sure to become an all nighter considering you still have a couple of pages to work out. Then you check your phone, scrolling through your social media for a little, until Johnny’s hand lightly lands on your forearm. “I think I figured it out.”
“You did?” The question sounds more hopeful than it should have. “Mhm,” His eyes land on your phone momentarily before he continues speaking. “Let’s have dinner first, though.”
For you to agree he almost has to literally drag you outside of the study room the two of you had occupied, but he manages to bring you out by wrapping his arms around your shoulders and waddling his way out until the door closes and locks behind you. The two of you then make your way to the cafeteria just because you could not be bothered with making any food or asking for delivery.
While you eat, Johnny tells you he is almost sure you could not get the question because your brain was fried rather than being unable to do it. Although not knowing if it is true or not you are thankful that he says it, because it gives you a motivational boost.
Both because you are hungry and because you really need all the studying you can get, you hurry up eating— barely even tasting the food before you leave to get back to the study room.
When you are back both of you immediately go back to your seats, putting your phones on flight mode before abandoning them at the far end of the desk. Johnny takes your mechanical pencil and eraser, erasing your jotted answer before starting to re-read and rephrase the question for you. He writes down the answer step by step, making sure you truly understand everything and stopping when you need to get your head wrapped on some things.
And when he erases his writings so you can write the answer down, he gives you encouraging pats on your shoulder, letting his hand rest there as a reminder that he is there if you need to ask something.
At some point he places his chin on your shoulder as well to watch you. Not you writing your answer down, but you. “You’re being annoying right now.” You mumble, to which he chuckles slightly. “Am I?”
“You are,” Confirming the statement, you tap down at the desk. “Just look. I got the right answer this time.”
He does. The smile that spreads across his face soon after he does so makes you proud. “See, I told you it was only your overworked brain.”
With a roll of your eyes you thank him, before turning back to the many practice questions that awaited you. The questions start coming as a breeze for the first couple of hours as you gather help from your textbooks with your freshened mind. Johnny starts to play one of his many playlists with chill songs on it, reaching out for his phone to do it before also reaching out for his notebook and highlighters, returning to history out of the sheer fact that it would make him feel better if he studied while you were.
The music in the background provides a nice ambiance in the room, much more lighthearted and relaxed than how it has been for the whole study session so far. Johnny and you take turns leaving the room to walk around, partly to get some exercise and partly to delay the point where you would get sleepy.
The night seems to go by faster after you start studying for the second time. And surely after some time, you had to start leaving the study room not for short walks, but to wash your face in order to stay awake.
Letters slowly start to form a gibberish language in your mind, numbers becoming a jumble of weird lines and strokes. What really breaks all that you have left of wakefulness, though, is when Johnny starts softly humming to the songs on his never-ending playlist.
His voice is deep and strains when he is using such a low tone to hum to the songs, but it is still quite the attention catcher. You cannot help but start listening to him, and you certainly cannot help your hand that trails off of the practice questions. Within a few songs’ time, your eyes get droopy and your world gets droopy, too. But you honestly try to fight off the sleep.
Yet, sleep is much stronger than whatever is keeping you awake.
“I think I’m gonna take a nap,” The announcement comes as a surprise even to you, but you reach out for your bag and drag it until it is in front of you on the desk. “What’re you doing?” Johnny throws a soft yet questioning look at you even though it must be obvious what you are doing. “I’m gonna use it as a pillow.”
“Just lay your head on my arm,” He says as if it is nothing, and shrugs a little when you look at him with your own pair of questioning eyes. “My cardigan’s thick and soft enough to be comfortable for both you and me.”
You smile at him, and pull your bag full of books and binders aside. Reaching out for his left arm, you hold his hand lightly— even though he is fully capable of lifting his forearm to place it in front of you— and drag his arm to the space previously occupied by your bag. He returns to his notes, unbothered, and gets back to humming along to the songs.
When you place your head on his forearm you smile at the scent of his cardigan, the scent of the coffee he had had before you started studying still embedded into the fabric.
You shut your eyes that do not have the motivation to fight off the sweet invitation of sleep. And if anybody ever asked you, you would say you fell asleep before Johnny finished the line he was humming to.
And if anybody ever asked you, it was the one of the best (and deepest) sleeps you had; your face engulfed in him and his cardigan’s warmth, your arms closed around his forearm, hunched over the desk in a position that is surely going to ache your back— until there is a scratch at the top of your head and through your hair. “Hm?”
“An hour’s passed.” He whispers, his hand still in your hair. You draw his arm closer to you, nuzzling your face into the fabric. You were not the one with a test tomorrow, and you were surely not the one with a test tomorrow that you could ace with your eyes closed. “Gimme 15 minutes.”
You hear him laugh. “Okay, big baby.”
#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct x reader#nct johnny#johnny#johnny imagines#johnny x reader#nct#nct 127#mmmmm me like this one#mmmmmm this reminds me of someone i know in particular and my school#mmmmmm i'm making myself upset#yeah i also have a jaehyun fic that flopped so if you wanna check that out feel free to#mwah
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There’s been a miracle:
Bedroom furniture delivery day is Tuesday! A full SIX MONTHS to the day after I ordered it. And these people never called to let me know when it was going to be delayed past the new estimates they continually gave me. I ALWAYS had to call them. So I look forward to getting my furniture on Tuesday and never speaking to them again. I don’t even care that much about the delay. But they couldn’t be bothered to call me on their own when there were new delays, so I’m pretty fed up.
I spent the morning getting my bedroom cleaned up and ready for Furniture Day and I’m very excited! Then I came downstairs about an hour and a half ago to wash dishes and I got distracted looking behind my fridge to see if there’s a water hookup (like for when I buy a new fridge if I want a water/ice dispenser on the front) and now I’ve got a new fridge already picked out! I’m off to costco in a little while to see if it’s on display and to confirm I can get delivery/haul away where I’m at in semi-rural Northern California. I’m pretty sure I can, but better safe than sorry. The fridge in my house now was probably the original one put in (15 years ago) and it leaves quite a bit to be desired. Such as actually keeping things cold. It’s definitely the first thing that needs replacing.
It’s been a big day for homeowner Lacey!
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We’ll Be Home For Christmas 4.6
Title: We’ll be home for Christmas
Day Four – Five Billionaires and No Wives – Part 6 Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 2.3 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 3.3 | 3.4 | 3.5 | 4.1 | 4.2 | 4.3 | 4.4 | 4.5 | 4.6
Author: Gumnut
24 May 2020
Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS
Rating: Teen
Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.
Word count: 3495
Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Artist!Virgil, Minor various ships, mostly background. A little angst in this one along with a little minor sexual reference.
Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos I started this fic before we saw it.
Author’s note: For @scattergraph. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D
Wow, written all in one day. I’ve been rereading the fic and running out of it and wanting more. Unfortunately, for there to be more I had to write more. I checked my archive and the last bit went up on May 11 right before everything at work went to hell, so I’m guessing that was the cause of the delay of this bit. I hope it was worth waiting for. This fic is nearly finished. A few threads to tie up in the next chapter, which, depending on what the characters do (cos they’ve thrown me two curve balls in this ::glares at both Grandma and Virgil:: so who knows what else they will do). i hope you enjoy it.
Many thanks to @i-am-chidorixblossom @scribbles97 and @onereyofstarlight for reading through various bits, fielding my many wibblies, and for all their wonderful support.
Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.
-o-o-o-
Scott stared as his home crawled over the horizon. Lit from the west, the peaks of Tracy Island were sculpted in gold, the water surrounding her sparkling in the dying sun.
It was a beautiful sight.
Virgil shifted against him, snorting softly in sleep.
Scott had been out on the bow of the boat for hours. First talking to Virgil, working through some of the events of the day until his exhausted brother slowly tipped sideways, falling asleep despite the breeze and the soft toss of the boat.
Scott just wrapped an arm around him and held him while his brother slept.
His butt was numb from lack of circulation, but he didn’t care.
John had approached at one point and quietly handed him a tablet full of information about whales. It was full of data he didn’t understand and he desperately needed to talk to his genius brother about what it all meant.
But for the moment, he was content to listen to Virgil’s breathing, the wind and watch their home inch closer and closer.
He was aware of Gordon keeping an eye on both of them, the pilot adding more speed to the journey today than he had any other day. There had been relaxation, but all of that had disappeared with recent events.
Hell, it had disappeared the moment they had discovered the trapped calf.
Fire ignited in his belly at the thought. He needed to speak with Penelope and follow up on what had happened to those responsible.
His father’s desk lay waiting on the Island.
Relief and dread waited with it.
He closed his eyes and evened out his breathing. It had been such a relief to let go last night. Mel had met his energy with her own, her hands in his hair, a pardon on her lips. No ties, no obligation, just a moment to be himself, find comfort in her arms and let go.
He was ever so grateful. His brothers may laugh, but it was the only way he could truly release everything that built up day after day. Life was a challenge and he was willing to take it on, but everyone needed a moment.
Mel had given him that moment...and a little more.
Virgil shifted against him as Gordon turned the boat slightly and began to slow on approach.
Scott opened his eyes to watch Mateo shift to starboard. The bow dropped a little as their speed lessened, the background noise of the engine changing pitch.
Virgil muttered something and shifted again.
Scott held him that little bit tighter.
A Little Lightning arced around the smaller island that protected their caldera from the open ocean and the yacht entered the sheltered lagoon smoothly.
The petrel colony raised a ruckus and squawked like crazy as they motored past, Gordon cutting their speed to almost nothing as the yacht coasted over coral.
There were two docks on Tracy Island. One on either side of the villa. Gordon chose the one adjacent to Two’s runway for obvious reasons. It was harder to dock such a large vessel, but it would be easier to get Virgil onto land, and, via the hangars, up to the villa. The other dock, near the beach huts, required a hike up to the house that Virgil was in no shape to make. Scott had checked his brother’s incisions earlier in the day and they were well into healing, but...it had been a weird day and Virgil was still asleep.
Gordon nudged the yacht ever so slowly up to the little used dock. It had been designed for supply delivery early on in the venture, but once the runway had been built, it had been used for little other than the occasional Thunderbird Four testing regime and a little recreational boating.
Nothing as big as A Little Lightning.
Gordon had mentioned early on that they would likely use the inflatable when they reached home, but the aquanaut had obviously changed his mind.
Virgil was definitely the reason.
John darted past Scott and Virgil, docking pole in hand, turquoise eyes targeting both of them. He didn’t say anything, but the concerned frown shot at Scott said everything.
Ropes were launched at the wharf bollards and the engine dropped down to a bare rumble. Alan yelled an acknowledgement at the back of the boat and John held up a hand to signal to Gordon. A slight shift sideways and A Little Lightning nudged up against Tracy Island and was secured.
Gordon cut the engine and its absence was profound.
John turned and smiled at him.
They were home.
-o-o-o-
Soft fingers touched his cheek.
“Honey, it’s time to wake up.”
He screwed up his face. He was in that pleasant warm place just below consciousness and he didn’t want to leave it.
But his pillow rumbled just a little with quiet laughter. Cotton moved against his temple and an arm tightened gently around him.
“You’re going to have to be more direct than that, Grandma.”
Those words, said in his brother’s voice, and enough neurons came online to recognise that he was curled up on something hard, leaning against...the warm cotton shifted and a breath was drawn in. A heartbeat pulsed against his ear, slow and sure.
The whirr of a scanner made him frown.
Light flickered under his eyelids and he clenched his eyes shut.
“C’mon, Virgil, we’re home. You can’t sleep out here all night and my butt is going to drop off if it doesn’t get circulation soon.”
Another voice piped up. “And then you’ll have to face Mel for the loss of that perfect butt.”
“What do you know about Scott’s butt?” Higher pitched. Alan?
“Remember number twenty-nine? Or was it twenty-eight? The one that worked in that circus we saved from the flood? She wrote letters about it.”
His pillow shifted sharply. “What the hell, Gordon?”
“Hey, you’re the one who left your email open for all to see.”
“It is encrypted!”
“Only to those who don’t know the encryption code, Scotty.”
“Boys, keep it down. Give Virgil a chance to wake up properly.”
He found his mouth. “Too late.” A groan and he was pushing himself upright. Everything complained.
Everything. His gut, his back, the numb leg that had somehow been denied blood when he leant on it.
Several hands helped him sit up and he found himself blinking against the golden light of sunset.
Sunset?
What the hell?
“How long have I been asleep?”
“Long enough.” His eldest brother was standing up, stretching his limbs and obviously rubbing blood back into his extremities. “You’re heavy.” But the smile Scott sent him was fond and happy. “We’re home, Virg.”
John, Alan and Gordon were arrayed beyond Scott, but as he turned his head, two other presences made themselves known. Grandma was in front of him, scanner in hand, blue eyes frowning at him in concern.
And on the dock, beyond the railing, stood Kayo.
Her frown vanished the moment she realised he was looking at her and was replaced with a small smile. “Welcome home.”
It was addressed to all of them, but she was looking at him when she said it.
“Let’s get you off this boat, young man.”
Yes! He was home. His ‘bird’s runway stretched along the cliff above them and the whole purpose of the boat trip came home to rest in his heart. As he stood, Scott helping him to his feet, he turned to his brothers. “Thank you.” He could claim that his voice was rough from his half drowning a few hours ago. “Thank you for taking me home. You didn’t have to, but you did anyway.” Okay, now he was getting emotional. “Thank you.”
An arm slung about his shoulders. “Anytime, Virgil, anytime.” Scott’s eyes flashed almost green in the evening light.
Alan muttered something and darted past Gordon to wrap his arms around Virgil. “Don’t do that again.”
Virgil blinked. “Not planning on it.” He wasn’t sure whether Alan was referring to his appendix or the whale thing, but whatever. His arm came around his brother and held him tight.
John’s smile was soft, but full of enough to swell Virgil’s heart.
Gordon...
A moment and Virgil untangled himself from Scott and Alan, took those few steps to his fish brother and smothered him in a massive hug. As expected, Gordon squawked and struggled just enough to make his protest shown, but Virgil hung on.
“Thank you, Gordon. Best idea ever.”
Arms encircled his waist, but his brother didn’t answer.
The moment was broken by Grandma placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Virgil, I would like to do a full medscan. John reported that you’ve been rather active today.” Virgil shot a look at his younger brother. John just smiled a little more and shrugged.
It was to be expected. Virgil would have done the same thing under the circumstances.
He sighed and let Gordon go.
Russet brown stared up at him a moment before Gordon stepped aside and gestured Virgil towards the gangplank that connected A Little Lightning to the dock.
Scott materialised on one side and John on the other and he had to force himself not to roll his eyes in exasperation.
Between the two of them, they made sure he stepped securely onto solid ground, ghosted him up the hill to the runway and to one of the little runabouts they used to transport cargo about the Island. It was clear that he was the cargo.
Well, at least it wasn’t a hoverstretcher.
He let out a sigh as Scott drove him into Two’s hangar and his ‘bird loomed over him.
Home.
It was a matter of elevators and examinations after that. Grandma was very thorough. The word ‘pneumonia’ was bandied about as a possibility if he didn’t look after himself properly. Apparently, he had breathed in a little too much seawater.
Fortunately, his incisions were quite happy and well on the mend despite the two dunkings for the day. Grandma didn’t frown at him, but the firm line of her lips was enough to keep him quiet.
You did not mess around with Grandma regarding medical matters.
Hell, when cornering his brothers as a medic himself, often the only threat that kept them corralled was that he would bring in Grandma if they didn’t behave.
When Virgil was ill, there was no-one else. Grandma was always the one who looked after him. She always had.
And, in turn, he now looked after her.
“What happened out there, Virgil?” Her voice was soft. They were alone and his grandmother was putting away her instruments. She had run him through everything, even a brain scan. She was obviously concerned.
“I don’t know, Grandma.”
“John says you spoke to whales.”
He shook his head and let it drop. “I don’t know.”
A finger caught his chin and drew his head up to look into her eyes. “You keep yourself safe, Virgil. You hear me? You have family who need you. Family who love you.”
“I’m okay, Grandma.”
She stared at him a moment longer before letting out a breath and turning back to her instruments. “You’re off rescues for another week, but I suspect you knew that.”
He did, but part of him had hoped he could shorten it. One glance at Grandma and he knew he didn’t have a hope. “Yes, standard recovery period for an operation of this type.”
Blue eyes shot a suspicious glare at him, but he didn’t respond.
“Lots of bed rest. None of your heavy lifting. No gym until next week.”
Damn. “Yes, Grandma.”
She turned back and he was in her arms. “Welcome home, Virgil.”
He blinked and returned the hug. “I’m fine, Grandma.”
Those arms tightened just a fraction.
He frowned. “Grandma?”
She let him go and turned away. “You better go downstairs. Kayo has dinner ready for all of us. It’s Christmas Eve.” She straightened up and looked at him, her eyes saying something he couldn’t quite decipher. “We should celebrate as a family.”
“Okay.”
Her hand landed on his arm and squeezed gently before letting go. He took that as a dismissal, slid off the bed and grabbed his shirt. “Thank you, Grandma.”
She didn’t turn. “I’ll see you down there shortly.”
He frowned, but did as she asked and headed off to the comms room.
-o-o-o-
Scott stared at John and Gordon. “You think he is actually communicating with the whales.”
A pair of copper eyebrows rose. “We think so.”
“But Virgil told me himself that he doesn’t understand it.”
Eos’ voice was deceptively wise. “Commander, he may not understand consciously, but subconsciously.”
“Explain.” Scott glared at the simulacrum of spinning lights on the holoprojector.
“His brain is at least partly processing the information, enough to receive an impression of the content, but not enough to clarify it. He has processed enough to produce a vocalisation that connects with the whales despite the lack of range in his vocal cords. Humans cannot produce the sound required to emulate whale song without electronic enhancement. Virgil’s physical contact appears to have amplified his emissions enough for the whale to recognise his voice as a form of communication.” A graphic appeared on the ‘projector. A small portion was set aside and fit into the larger like a puzzle piece. “The whale was able to clarify his vocalisation into something that could be understood.”
“What did Virgil say?”
John answered him. “We don’t know.”
“We should ask him.” Gordon stood up. “And I think he should be part of this conversation.”
Scott bit back a retort. Every bone in his body wanted to protect Virgil from this.
But he knew he couldn’t.
Sagging, he sat down on the couch behind him and nodded.
Gordon stepped around the ‘projector and perched beside him. “Sam and I will find out more. I promise, Scott. This is a major breakthrough, you know that.”
Scott turned slowly to look at his little brother. “You saw what it did to him.”
“Do you trust me, Scott?” Russet brown bared his little brother’s soul.
He stared into those eyes. Little rapscallion Gordy, the prankster of the family. The ray of sunshine on moments so dark Scott feared his own survival. Did he trust Gordon? Trust him with Virgil’s life?
All the time.
“Yes, I do.”
Gordon swallowed. “Then trust me with this. I’ll keep him safe. I promise. We’ll work this out. Discover what it means. What exactly is going on.”
John cleared his throat. “Perhaps you should both speak to Virgil first?”
Scott turned to find his engineer brother standing by the kitchen stairs, staring at them.
-o-o-o-
“Virgil-“
“No!” His older brother threw his hands up and Gordon took a step back. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
So, of course, Scott took a step forward. “Vir-“
“No, Scott! Not now. Just leave it. I need to work this out for myself. I...I thank you for the information, John, Eos.” He nodded to the ‘projector. “Gordon, I understand the interest and I...empathise.” He sighed. “I just need time, guys, okay?”
“Okay.” It was parched and apparently his voice. The frown creasing Gordon’s forehead was deep enough to hurt. Why wasn’t Virgil letting him help?
His brother reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Just some time, Gords, please.”
“Okay.”
“Then I’ll come to you.” Eyes a deeper brown than his own were pleading for understanding. “I promise.”
“Okay.” Gordon swallowed and cleared his throat. “Well, in that case, I vote we go eat before Alan inhales everything.” It was a simple distraction, but it worked.
Virgil squeezed his shoulder, his expression flashing thanks before turning away. The tension in the man’s back was pulling his shirt tight.
Maybe he was right. Maybe they should wait.
A blink and another swallow and Gordon followed Virgil from the room, Scott and John behind him.
-o-o-o-
The evening was a quiet one. All five brothers were tired after the day’s events, even Virgil who, despite having slept a few hours in the morning and afternoon, still looked like he was going to fall on his face at any moment.
Even Grandma was more reserved than usual, her gaze landing on Virgil repeatedly, her eyes distant as if in thought.
It was unnerving.
Kayo served dinner. A buffet of Asian dishes accompanied by rice and noodles. Most were purchased, but she had also made her own stir fry, a family favourite with just the right amount of chilli and cilantro. An appropriate welcome back feast, but none of them had the energy to truly appreciate it as much as it deserved.
After dinner saw them stocking presents under the massive Christmas tree in the comms room. Alan made various comments, especially when Virgil lugged out what was likely a painting wrapped in several layers of wrapping paper.
The fact he lugged it by himself led to words from Scott and the present being confiscated. Virgil’s protest that it wasn’t heavy was followed up by John stepping between the two of them and declaring he was going to help Virgil with his load. The two of them disappeared upstairs and Gordon was left with a grumpy Scott.
The whole lack of spirit finally cracked the aquanaut and he grabbed some tinsel off the tree, wrapped it into a ball and threw it at Scott’s head.
The astonishment on his big brother’s face was worth it.
Scott carefully placed the painting-shaped present down beside the tree and turned to verbally retaliate only to have his face muffled by a lounge cushion thrown by Alan.
“Bullseye!”
Gordon idly noted Brains taking one look at the resultant expression on Scott’s face and, grabbing Max, making a beeline for the elevator.
“Alan!”
“Yes, Scott?”
Gordon threw another ball of tinsel, silvery strands fluttering in the air as it flew.
“Gordon!”
Another couch cushion whacked Scott in the face.”
“Ala-“
More tinsel to the head.
Hmm, this tree really did have a lot of tinsel on it, but just in case, Gordon darted in and grabbed two of the balls he had already thrown.
He was not surprised when the remaining tinsel ball retaliated and hit him between the eyes.
Alan was landed by a return cushion volley. Scott really was a good shot.
“Oh, you are going down, bro.” Alan was positively gleeful and before they knew it, cushions, tinsel, several Christmas baubles and a pile of tribbles were hurtling back and forth across the room.
Kayo stood to one side and just rolled her eyes. Grandma joined in and was the likely source of the tribbles.
When John and Virgil returned, it was to utter chaos and not a small amount of laughter. Both got tribbles stuffed down their shirts and tinsel bounced off their heads.
John protested loudly at the use of his tribble stash, but Grandma told him to lighten up...right before she bounced one off his nose.
What followed that was a free for all.
The night got better, much to Gordon’s relief. His brothers loosened up, a little alcohol was dragged out and moods mellowed.
Of course, Alan was the first to nod off, curled up beside Gordon. He was fast followed by Virgil who yet again fell asleep on Scott. The worry that appeared on Scott’s face only made Gordon’s heart sink.
Grandma called it then, sending them all off to bed.
Virgil was nudged awake enough for Scott and John to get him on his feet and guide him to his bed. Gordon shouldered Alan and dragged him to the elevator.
“Thans, Gords.”
“Not a problem, bro.” The elevator was taking forever to return.
Alan turned into Gordon’s shoulder and slumped against it, half snoring.
“C’mon, Allie.” The elevator arrived and he helped his little brother aboard. If there was one thing Alan had in common with Virgil it was his ability to sleep.
Some complaints about the boat still rocking and Gordon tumbled his little brother into his bed. Shoes off, covers on. Gordon sat down beside his sleeping brother.
It had been one hell of a trip and now it was over. It was less than a week since Virgil folded in his pilot’s seat, yet it seemed years ago. One boat, four days and five brothers.
Alan rolled over and snorted in his sleep.
Gordon reached out and placed his hand on his arm.
“I’m gonna getcha, John.” It was quiet and mumbled into Alan’s pillow, but it was enough to push Gordon to his feet.
Blimey.
A blink that lasted longer than it should have and Gordon realised he was exhausted. One more glance at his little brother who was now muttering something about space resources and was no doubt plotting his brother’s video game demise, and Gordon made his way to the door.
One boat, four days, five brothers...and tomorrow.
Gordon went to bed.
-o-o-o-
End Day Four.
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds#thunderbirds fanfiction#Virgil Tracy#Scott Tracy#John Tracy#Gordon Tracy#Alan Tracy#kermadec fic
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Dino Gear - Supercop
Read at AO3
That day turned out to be one of the worst days in Lena Luthor’s life. And she had a lot of days were people tried to kill her, including her mother and her bother, she was kidnapped more times than she was comfortable with and she did pretty much looked like a walking target to whatever shit the universe decided to throw her away, but, pushing all of that to the side, that was one of the worst days in her life.
She woke up late, which was a first in her life, after staying awake until very very late talking with Kara over texts. Her friend seemed bored and with insomnia and kept texting her the most random things for hours, going from asking her silly questions like her favourite color to sending pics of animals she found cute. And, for a reason she would like not to adress in the moment, Lena had stayed up with her until her friend finally fell asleep – or at least until she took more than five minutes to text her again. So when her alarm went off at 6am like usual, she didn’t heard it.
Jess saw her basically running to her office two hours after she was supposed to be there, but she was gracefull enough not to mention it while informing Lena of all the things she had pushed on her schedule. Because of her delay, Lena had even more meetings to attend in the afternoon and she had a board meeting and so many meetings that, by the time she exited the last one, she had lost count of which one that was.
She also hadn’t eaten nothing all day. Literally. She was late for work so she had to skip breakfest, she was in a meeting during lunch and another meeting after that. Lena spent all afternoon talking with stubborn, blockhead, white male, and by the time she realized she still had to put some solid food on her body it was already too late to ask Jess to grab her something.
To top all of that - because what more did she needed really? – she had to stay until late at her office, trying to finish some reports and working on some things she had promissed Winn she would take a look at. Not to mention that, in her rush to make everything on time, she didn’t had time to talk with Kara all day, even if she saw that her best friend had texted her more than once through the day. By the time she called her driver, Lena’s head was feeling twice it’s size.
She wanted nothing more than take her uncomfortable clothes off and go to bed. She had a terrible migraine, her body was tired and honestly her bed was just too inviting in the moment.
Lena had managed to take a quick shower and put her old National City University hoodie, and was on her way to pour some wine to herself, when there was a knock on the door. Her heart jumped against her chest at the sudden loud sound in her quiet apartment, but the panic quickly soothe when her brain started to work. There was only one person that would be allowed to go up by security without her being informed before.
What exactly Kara was doing on her door at 00:14am was beyond her, but Lena knew it was better ask her than keep asking herself instead. She sighed, putting down the wine bottle, and started making her way to the door. Lena loved her friend, she really did, but she wasn’t in the mood to entertain her that night. Her head hurt and she was tired, and it wasn’t even wednesday yet.
She took a deep breath before opening the door, ready to break Kara’s excited little heart, but then she had to stop short on her tracks when she took in whatever her friend was wearing.
Her hand instantly flew to her mouth to hide her laugh behind her palm, but it was already too late by the look on Kara’s face.
“Special delivery for miss Luthor!” Kara exclamed in her most cheerful tone, raising her hand that was holding a plastic bag to show her that she had, indeed, something with her.
Lena shook her head, her hand dropping back to the door handle, her smile almost too big to be comfortable. “Please, tell me this isn’t happening right now.” She said with a scoff.
Kara raised one eyebrow at her, but her smiley face was just too happy for it to stay like that for too long. “You like my dino gear, don’t you?” Her eyes moved up, clearly trying to look at the said clothing item, before coming back to stare at Lena with that bright glint on the blue orbs.
Lena looked at her friend from head to toe, still smiling, and quirked her eyebrows to what she saw. Kara’s bottom half was rather normal, just some old sneackers and a maybe too large grey hoodie pants with CatCo symbol on it, but her top half was something entirely different. She was using what had to be the ugliest sweater Lena had ever saw. It was a dark shade of blue, with a large green and yellow dinosaur on it, and it would have being an attrocity if she wasn’t looking so cute while wearing it. And, in her head, Kara was wearing a black cap with a green dinosaour being mounted by a green smiley alien, full with stars and planets around them and a fluffly coloured woolen ball on top. In the bottom, the phrase “Give me some space” was written in white and red, making everything even better.
Kara looked ridiculous, but, oh so cute. Especially with that easy smile of her and her face full of freckles around her nose that Lena could see thanks to the fact that her friend wasn’t wearing any make up.
“I heard you had a rough day.” Kara offered as an explanation, raising the bag again. “I thought I would show up to make you smile a little bit.” She wiggled her eyebrows and her cap moved along with it. “With kale to help me out.”
Lena couldn’t hold back anymore, she laughed openly now. “Jesus, Kara, you’re the best, I love you.” She shook her head again.
They hadn’t said it before, not even in a friendly way. They had said how much the other meant for each other, how much they cared, how far they would go for each other, but, for some reason, it felt different that time. Lena could hear in her own voice how blunt out honest she was when she spilled the words without thinking. She didn’t sounded like a thankful friend, no. She sounded like a in love fool, like her heart had just spit out of her mouth.
And apparently Kara had also realized it because all laugh and smile left her beautiful face when she stared back at Lena in shock. So Lena also stoped laughing, because clearly her friend was not amused anymore, and her heart started beating fast inside her chest, begging her to find a way to get out of the mess she dug herself and not ruin things for them, because having Kara as her friend was better than not having Kara at all.
“I, uh-“ Lena cleared her throat twice before she was able to speak again. “What’s in the bag?” She clinged visibly to her stupid question and clear attempt to find another thing to talk about.
But Kara wasn’t having it. “What did you just said?”
“What?” Not the best time to play dumb, Lena realized too late. Not the best way to get her out of that mess.
“You-“ Kara pointed at her with a shaking finger and wide eyes. “You said you- You said- You just...” Ok, so clearly she wasn’t the only one who had no idea what to say. “You said you love me.” Kara whispered the words almost in reverence.
Lena wanted to play dumb again, at least she would be able to buy her some time before having to answer the though questions, but she doubted that saying ‘No, I didn’t’ was going to sound any better than whatever crap she could come up with. Her brain was way too tired for that conversation to be happening.
So she went all the way around. “Yes, I did.” Lena crossed her arms in front of her chest, trying to embrace herself for the impact.
“Wow.” Kara whispered in awe while nodding along with it. “That’s some big news.”
“Kara, look, I’m sorry. I haven’t slept very well and I also didn’t eat anything all day, and I really want to go to bed, so...” It was the lamest excuse she ever gave anyone, but she couldn’t think straight when Kara was staring at her like that. It made her inside all mushy and warm, and it made her really nervous.
“I love you too.”
“What?”
“I love you too, Lena.” Kara repeated, her growing smile getting bigger and bigger by the second. “As like more than friends kind of love you.”
“You really do?” Lena never felt more nervous or hopefull in her entire life before and it showed on how low her voice became suddenly, the words barely audible for any human.
But Kara smiled at her again and, with a wink, said: “Well, I did used this thing in public, didn’t I?”
The CEO chuckled and shook her head. “To be fair, I think you would use it regardless.”
“That’s not the point here.” They shared a light moment where they both giggled like school girls about to kiss their crush, but suddenly Kara became very serious and she looked even more nervous than before.
“What?” It was ringing way too many bells inside her head and Lena didn’t liked it.
Kara’s eyes suddenly filled with tears and she looked down at her dirty sneakers so she wouldn’t have to see Lena’s reaction to what she was about to say. “I- Lena, I can’t do this, not without telling you the whole truth, it’s not fair with you and...”
“Kara.” Lena interrupted her gently. She hesitated only for a second before she reached out to grab Kara’s hand that wasn’t grasping the bag. The brunette coaxed her to come foward, but the blonde only followed her once she looked around and realized she was still literally standing in the hallway. “I think I know what...”
“I’m Supergirl.” Kara blurred out suddenly. She was still looking down, but after her outburst she looked up to meet the emerald eyes that made her feel so many things. Lena had raised her eyebrows, but she didn’t let go of her hand, so she took it as a good sign. “I’m Supergirl and I love you, Lena.” She stated, straightening her posture and stuffing her chest to give the impression that she was more confident than she really was.
Lena’s eyes softened and she took a step back, than another one, until she finally raised her other hand to push a stray of hair behind her ear, the touch almost making Kara combust in place. “I knew the first part, just for the record.” She claimed with a little amusement. “Quite hard to miss it. The rest is kind of surprising, not going to lie.”
“I really want to kiss you right now.”
“Kara, I don’t want you to take it the wrong way, really.” Lena paused and bit her bottom lip. For a second, the hero thought she was about to be rejected, but then she saw the corners of Lena’s mouth trembling slightly as she fought a smile. “But it’s really hard to take you serious when you’re wearing this hat and this sweater.”
Kara nodded and pretended to think for a second. “I can compromise with the hat, but I really like this sweater.”
Lena chuckled softly. “I think you look quite cute with it.” She raised both hands, using one to remove Kara’s Alien-Mounting-A-Dinosaur gear and the other one to brush the blonde curls away from her face. Her heart swell with love when Kara closed her eyes and leaned to her touch. “I will never say it again, so you better save this in your memory, but I did enjoyed the dino gear too. It made me smile.”
“That’s all I want.” Kara confessed as she leaned for their first kiss.
A week later, after Kara convinced Lena to a late walk through her block, people would see Lena using the dino gear while trying to convince Kara that she wasn’t cold enough to use the damn sweater.
#supergirl#supercorp#kara x lena#lena x kara#kara danvers#lena luthor#kara danvers x lena luthor#lena luthor x kara danvers#romance#love#cute#fluff#melissa benoist#katie mcgrath#meltie#jess#true love
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