#yes were red yes were black yes were pale im sure SOMEONE fits into the ashen one as well | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spiltscribbles · 4 years ago

Note

Im so excited!!!! Here’s a little “It’s always been you. You and only you.” sprinkled in with Green-Eyed Epiphany

~Notes: OMFG bubby!!!! You are so beyond adorable! Thank you So SO much for the sweetness!! I really hope you like this XS and fingers crossed this fits the promptXS <3 <3 <3

Prompt Smash Game | Send Me A Prompt💜 | A Reblog Is Like A Huge, Warm Hug!!!

~R: my mom’s working the night shift at the clinic👀👀

~S: Kinky😏

~S: I can be there in 15

~R: make it 20 and get Chinese x

~S: sometimes I think ur j using me for the food

~R: and bring henny😈

It’s seventeen minutes since Remus sent the last text when the front door of his modest ranch house begins to thump with a familiar wrapping that’s three quick knocks followed by two slower ones, and he has to wrestle down the eager grin from his face when he swings it open to find one of his closest friends standing at the threshold in that customary weathered, leather jacket that he found two summers ago when Remus had taken him thrifting for the first time, and an impish sort of smirk that definitely would look ridiculous on anyone else, but only makes Sirius all the more maddeningly attractive.

“What took so long?” Remus asks mildly, pulling him indoors by the sleeve and gesturing for him to set the goods on the kitchen counter once they cross the small foyer.

“You wound me, Lupin.” Sirius retorts, quick-silver eyes flashing before he pins him against the island and puts his hands on either side of his waistline with more gentleness than Remus would’ve expected before they began this whole sorted affair— Okay, maybe that’s the wrong word for it?

It’s not an affair, or tryst, or carrying on or whatever the fuck else Lily says when she’s teetering on the wrong edge of tipsy and thinks it’s her right to call Remus out on his bullshit— on his stupid, beyond obvious crush he’s been fostering for one of his closest friends since junior high.

It’s none of those things— It’s not nearly as dramatic.

It’s just— Just that yes, Remus has been harboring a tiny infatuation for Sirius ever since that first day of the seventh grade when he had moved to this tiny, coastal town after his parents divorce. But how could he have not? Sirius is hilarious, and a genius, and so gorgeous that sometimes it feels like his insides are twisting up whenever he glances over at him. And on that first day, he had just caught Remus’s eyes from across the library shelves before classes begun, and smiled in that uniquely electric way of his, and asked if Remus could put slime in a very specific locker, (Snape’s), for a very specific reason, (Because he kept following Lily around like a creep), on account to no one suspecting the new kid. And yeah— Remus was lost on him an embarrassing amount from then on.

Sure, it can be regarded as kinda pathetic on Remus’s end— kindling this nest of emotions so close to the chest— but also it’s not as if he’s been lovestruck by his crush, like it’s some sort of waterlogged scarf he’s got dragging him down. His attraction towards Sirius is like a soft melody that’s swelling in the backdrop of all their interactions, nothing overwhelming— not a flood plane, not yet at least. It’s warm, and it’s familiar, and it’s persistent like a flutter of a humming bird’s wings. And Remus doesn’t mind pining over someone as fantastical as Sirius Fucking Black.

Graciously, in some strike of incredible luck, Sirius never caught on to Remus’s silly feelings, not until that night when they were watching an old movie in Remus’s basement while James and Lily were celebrating an entire year together— save for all their sudden stops and just as speedy starts— and Peter was visiting his grandmother in Tampa Bay. It was the first time they had been alone together since Remus broke up with Caradoc for the final time, and Sirius just looked so fucking good in that casual, white v-neck and his skinny jeans that make him look like some echo of James Dean on his best day. And Remus isn’t sure who exactly moved forwards first, or how the fuck Meg Ryan wandering the Seattle streets was some sort of aphrodisiac, or why Sirius— who could have any guy he would ever want— was actually humoring him, but one second they’re lying down on the sofa— Remus caged between Sirius’s expanse and the cushions behind them— and the next he’s tasting PBR on Sirius’s lips, and has got a fist full of his dark hair, and is thrilling at the feeling of Sirius’s thigh between his legs. And yeah— it just happened like those sort of things are want to do, and by the end of it they were sticky and breathless and diffident in ways they never been around one another, in ways Remus reckons Sirius has never been around anyone.

But the next weekend, when Sirius’s latest sorta— but not really— boyfriend had canceled on their dinner plans, Sirius wandered over to Remus’s bedroom window and it was another tumbling of frenzied hands and loosen buckles and thrusting hips. And then it just became an easy release— a sort of poetry, an understanding in all but name.

And that’s fine. They don’t have to talk about it. Remus knows that Sirius isn’t the type to settle down with a partner, to go bowling for a date, or texting countless messages that amount to nothing at all at the end of the conversation, or putting up with another dude’s parents taking photos of them before leaving to prom or homecoming or whatever the fuck else. And Remus is sorta sick of the idea of love, of trying so hard only to end up heartbroken and eating a gallon of Chubby Bunny in his favorite sweats and cursing John Hughes for pretending Hollywood romances can happen to ordinary high schoolers.

So yeah— This thing they’ve fallen into with each other is good. They’re friends— best friends— and they have fun and they’re apparently really fucking good in bed together, and Sirius never looks at Remus with pity when he spots him gazing at his profile absentmindedly, and he doesn’t mind when Remus traces invisible designs against his skin when they’re soaking in the after glow, and he never treats him any different. Sirius still slings his arm around Remus’s shoulders when they walk down the halls, and he still buys him his favorite chocolates when he feels poorly, and he still faces Dorcas's disapproving wrath when he drags Remus out of the library to have a little mischief— whether it’s smoking a blunt in the abandoned skatepark in town or playing some stupid prank on those assholes in their year.

For all intent and purposes, they still behave the same they’ve always acted around one another, but just with the miraculous addition of mind-blowing and dulcetly ductile sex.

This is good, this is fun, this is completely untethered from the bull shit of romance.

And if Remus mouths against the juncture of Sirius’s neck a little too intensely— trying to pry off the memory of the hickey Sirius had been sporting after spending the weekend with Gideon Prewett— Well no one has to be any the wiser, and by the sound of Sirius’s hitched breaths, he seems not to mind even slightly.

“Except my apology?” Remus asks, more coy than he ordinarily acts as he drops his arms around Sirius’s neck, and leans on the balls of his feet to whisper against his temple.

“Oh, you’re such a bastard,” Sirius retorts, labored as all get out, kneading his fingers into Remus’s ass that’s only covered by the thin layer of his plaid pajama bottoms. “You are going to have to do a lot more for me to forgive the lip.”

Remus laughs in a stammering sort of way as Sirius tugs him along, walking backwards to his room that he’s become incredibly intimate with since the first time they did this three months ago.

“Sirius, the spring rolls— they’re gross if we have to heat them up again.”

“I’ll postmate us knew ones,” Sirius insists, covering Remus’s mouth with his own with fervor. “C’mon babe, do not tease me like this.”

Sirius must’ve caught his mistake, because he suddenly goes as red as Remus feels— The pet name was to close for comfort considering their strictly friends with benefits nature, but Remus is already half hard, and he really does not want to end this, so with a sly wink, he returns to nipping at Sirius’s jawline, rutting against him in a very unambiguous way. “Fine, if you really don’t think you’ll need the nourishment for your stamina?”

The words have their intended effect, and Sirius makes a small growl deep in his throat before practically tearing off Remus’s shirt, and dipping beneath the waistline of his pants, scooping him up and racing to the bed.

And they get lost in one another beneath the pale glow of Remus’s lamplight and the moon spilling through the window, relearning each others every patch of skin for minutes on end that wax and wane like the delta of ocean waves, unspooling into something tangible and tantalizing with every kiss punctuated with teeth that Sirius trails across Remus’s collarbone, and the way Remus palms greedy hands up and down Sirius’s back until he gets the hint and undresses.

“Well come on, you’re not an invalid, Lupin.” Sirius jeers and Remus chuckles as he follows suit until they’re both finally, blessedly nude. And with an easy assurance of them having done this more than a dozen times now, Remus crawls into his lap and kisses him straight on the mouth, preening how Sirius moans against him— canting up wantonly and grabbing at his hips with a sort of intensity that will probably leave bruises in the shape of the pads of his fingers, and Remus absolutely adores the idea of that, feels something hot and needy and desperate unfurl in his gut as he presses their mouths more forcefully together, going buzzed when he gets to relish in the sensation of their tongues running against one another, and the taste of the ridges on the roof of Sirius’s mouth, and the slide of the soft skin of his inner cheek— gasping when Sirius pulls away abruptly, panting an almost reverent, “Mother of God, Remus,” and tackles him flat on his back before they commence, with the addition of both their hard, leaking cocks thrusting against one another and Sirius’s hand in Remus’s hair pulling that bit more forcefully while his other one roams the dips and planes of his side— skirting against the divots of his stomach muscle before he wraps it around the pair of them and begins to pull in earnest, to the rhythm that Remus swears was strung from the heavens above.

“Oh— Oh, yeah— Sirius,” Remus breathes out in a haggard sort of way, words that he refuses to ever call a mewl even if they’re stretched out and crackle with emotion.

“Yes—, just say that again,” Sirius practically demands, his mouth completely covering his ear in a wet, hot heat— his teeth scraping against the soft shell. “Remus, baby, just say my name, tell me you want it.”

And God, Remus is feeling so heady— like he’s floating and he couldn’t possibly come back down— that he probably would’ve listened to anything Sirius asked of him, especially if he does that thing again, when he squeezes the slick length of them with a tad more force than they usually play at. “Sirius, Sirius. Sirius, please, I’m close,” Remus shrills in an unsteady staccato— his normally smooth tenner going pitchy and pleading, and he can feel his toes curling, can feel the eminent release coming— What he does not expect is to feel something poking at his entrance, didn’t expect to be struck dumb by the sensation of the tip of Sirius’s large, dry finger poking right there, right against the fluttering hole, while he’s still pumping them in tandem, and the second it hooks inside Remus goes a startling sort of static , sees blasts of white blotching his vision and his head thrown back and his dick spirting out heavily against Sirius’s deliciously defined torso.

And he’s just breathing heavily now, during the come down, can barely make out anything through the heavy weight around him, the one cushioning his head— but he does graciously feel Sirius’s cock fucking into his own hand against Remus’s thigh and then idly the feeling of his come splattering him, but then after that he can just barely hear the distant padding of feed against floorboards, followed by a wet washcloth being dabbed against his skin. So when he finally forces himself to focus, he sees Sirius cleaning himself off, wrapping it into the pair of joggers Remus was wearing earlier and tosses it to the corner of the room.

“Rude,” he scolds with no heat, shuffling closer to him when Sirius lies down besides him once more and circles an arm around his torso.

“THat’s what you get when you’re acting like a lazy fuck,” Sirius counters, smug as all get out while he threads a hand in Remus’s hair.

“Hmm, didn’t see that in the papers recently. Is it a new law?”

“Yeah, actually just past on the senate floor.”

“Interesting… Well considering that only one of us has a senator for a father, I really have to ask to see the power-point you shared with him to get this bill through the stalemate,” Remus’s head bounces against Sirius’s chest from the force of his laughter at the barb.

“Oh, stuff it, Lupin.”

Hiding his smile into Sirius’s skin, Remus does as told, and they both just lie there, as if everything’s gone suspended just for the pair of them, just so Remus can count out the beats of Sirius’s heart pulsing against his sternum, and can feel the way their legs tie into one another, and can feel Sirius mouthing against his temple, blowing his curls with every exhale.

And Remus thinks that he’d do anything to remember this exact moment for every single day from here on out.

But then the quiet is abruptly and permanently punctured by the sound of his phone chirping, and he has to breathe in deeply before separating from the warmth of Sirius, and fishes down for the device that’s still crammed into the side of his bed from where he had hidden it after that initial text.

“Is Dearborn still on your ass to try again?” Sirius asks, a bit stilted.

Remus wonders if he’s just imagining the tension twisted in the question, but reasons that Sirius’s never been Caradoc’s biggest fan, so he just shrugs it off— really doesn’t want to get into some stupid argument about his asshole of an ex when he’s still feeling so content. “Nah, ’s James. Still trying to force me to go to the homecoming dance with you guys.”

“Oh,” Sirius retorts, lips pinched while watching Remus redress. “You should go, Marls is pregaming and you know she always gets the good shit.”

Remus shakes his head while puttering over to find a new pair of sweats and a sweater. “Nah, just not feeling it this year— Erm, you’re taking Gid I assume.” He’s not sure why he asks it, supposes he’s always a glutton for some pain and shitty feelings to inspire his playlists habit, but also maybe it’s him trying to sober himself. Trying to remember that despite this— despite everything they just did and how easy it’s always been for them to fall into step with one another— Remus isn’t good enough to be seen with Sirius in the light of day. He’s probably not handsome enough or cool enough or something else that makes Sirius absolutely revolted from the thought. Probably that he’s beyond bookish, and looks painfully virginal and isn’t nearly as sly or snarky as his other conquests.

Truly, Remus should just be thankful that Sirius wants this at all, he shouldn’t be so crazed over the why nots of the situation— it’ll only kill him trying to be something he never could actually affect with any credence.

Schooling his features to something passably indifferent, Remus pivots to face him again, is startled when he finds Sirius still naked and staring at him with a burning sort of intensity in his storm cloud eyes.

“He hasn’t said anything, but I guess he’s assuming as much,” he finally says, running a hand through his overgrown fringe, that familiar twitch of the corner of his mouth grabbing Remus’s attention. The one that tells him Sirius is actually irritated about something he’s not letting himself say out loud.

“Erm, good? Gid’s a decent guy.” Remus mutters, head ducked once it gets to a point that he can’t stand Sirius looking at him like that— Not after how blissed out and ferocious he had been groping every inch of Remus only moments ago. “You guys are nice together.”

And it’s like the breath before the worst of storms when his words collapse between them, making the pregnant silence go suddenly suffocating.

“Right,” Sirius intones once Remus levels their gazes, hurriedly standing and collecting his own clothes, fracturing the moment completely. “Right. Whatever, yeah. I’ll go to the fucking dance with fucking Gideon Prewett. That’s good.”

“Sir—“

“No, it’s fine. You can just stay home, and mourn over that douchebag Dearborn some more, even though you ending it with that dick was the best decision you could’ve made, Remus, and I’m not even saying it just because I’m petty. He is a prick, and you need to finally get a clue how much better you deserve, damn it!”

Remus’s head feels like it’s swimming. Why is Sirius so angry all of a sudden? Does he not like Gideon? Why can’t he just cut it off like so many times before? And why the hell is he petty over Caradoc? The entire situation feels like someone’s just handed him a wedge of Swiss cheese and told him to knit it back together.

“What is up your ass?” He decides is an appropriate enough question for his floundering, and shutters back only slightly at how fuming Sirius looks when he rounds on him— clothes disheveled and fearsome glower heavy on his face.

“Whatever Remus, if you can’t see that Dearborn is bad news—“

“I’m not pining for Dearborn,” Remus interjects, really doesn’t feel like listening to one of Sirius’s ridiculous diatribes about him, not now. Not when he’s still so bewildered by everything else. “Why would you think that?”

The fire in Sirius’s eyes vanishes as quickly as someone blowing on a candle, and it’s his turn to gawk, gaping at Remus, shoulders dragged down and eyes wide. “Wait— You’re not?”

“No…. I haven’t even thought about him for weeks.”

“Oh.” Sirius looks contemplative for a moment, before the righteous anger that only he could ever wear with such conviction, melts over him once more. “All right, then what the fuck is this?”

Remus stiffens, feels his veins lace with ice, an his breath catch somewhere in his throat, really does not think he’s ready for this conversation. “This?”

“Yes, Remus, this!” Sirius demands, sounding harsh in comparison to the barely croak Remus had spoken with. “Listen I don’t care if you want me to wait some more, if you need to lick your wounds or whatever. But why are you like pushing me on other people? Why do you want me not to be around? why do you want me to go out with other dudes?”

Remus lies back on the chest of drawers now, feels beyond dazed. “What the hell are you talking about, Sirius?”

Sirius clenches his teeth right then, the hinge of his jaw going taught

before he skulks closer, not letting Remus drop his gaze. “Is it me? Is it that you just can’t see me that way? Are you just stringing me along or something? Because I really didn’t think that was your style, but if it’s that, then Remus—“

“Stringing you along?” Remus asks in a voice barely above a whisper, just needs to feel his lips forming the absolutely risible words, even if it makes it so something dark passes across Sirius’s beauteous features.

“Remus, I swear to God! Stop repeating everything I’m fucking saying!”

“Then start making some damn sense!” Remus snaps, suddenly heated as he straightens and pins him with a proper scowl. “What in holy hell are you going on about?”

“God! Do I have to spell it out!” Sirius barks, cutting the final step dividing them and grabbing for Remus’s shoulders with a tight squeeze. “I know you just wanted to fuck around with someone after Dearborn showed his extreme dickitude, and listen, I was so fucking ecstatic that you wanted me for it. But I can’t do this in-between shit anymore! I’m sorry, but I can’t! And I get if this is annoying, but I’ve been crazy for you for so long. And I just can’t keep myself at an arms length anymore, not now that we’ve really had each other, not after you let me actually touch and taste and fuck you and— Damn it, this isn’t coming out the way I wanted, all right! Damn it, maybe Evans was right and I should’ve made queue cards like some dumb ass— But then James pointed out how unromantic that was, and Marlene said—“

Gently, Remus puts his shaking fingers against Sirius’s lips, effectively killing off anything else he’s about to say. And slowly, everything is beginning to slot into place, and he’s so spiteful over how they’ve been such idiots this entire time— swears to put salt into Lily’s coffee next time he sees her.

“I didn’t know you actually were into me Sirius.”

Stunned, Sirius’s dark brows hike up to his hairline. “How the hell didn’t you know?” He demands against Remus’s fingers, thunderous and insulted looking.

“Because you never fucking said as much!” Remus defends himself, feels a mangled sort of laughter squirming out. “God, we’re idiots.”

“We’re?” Sirius asks, hesitant and red faced before Remus moves his hand to peck softly against his mouth.

“I’ve been half in love with you for years you absolute ass-wipe, it’s always been you! You and always you.” Remus tells him breathily, still fighting down the last remnants of his actual, god forsaken giggle— like he’s thirteen again and getting buzzed off his mom’s peach wine coolers. “I only never said anything because I never thought I’d have a chance with someone like you— Someone so— so— Someone so amazing.”

The smile Sirius favors him with right then is something absolutely incandescent, and his eyes shimmer with a very distinct sort of joy that Remus wonders if anyone besides him has ever witnessed. “Then you’re definitely the biggest idiot between us, Lupin.” Sirius declares, knocking their foreheads together, and lacing his hand into Remus’s own before squeezing meaningfully.

“Fuck off,” Remus snorts, presses forwards for another languorous kiss, not feeling in danger of being swallowed whole any more— finally letting himself drown and knowing that Sirius will be there to pull him back up no matter what.

“Oh, I could get used to this,” Sirius smirks, snakes his arms around Remus’s waste that bit tighter.

“Hmm, there is the problem that I usually don’t put out until at least the third or fourth date,” Remus says mildly.

“Pff, ‘s fine, Lupin,” Sirius insists, grinning beatifically. “I like you being a hussy for me!— Oof, careful with the merchandize, you were speaking some real exaltations about that part of my anatomy not too long ago.”

Moving his knee from the point at hand, Remus sticks out his tongue at him. “See if you ever get any ever again, Sirius Black.”

When Sirius laughs, it sounds like the strike of lightening against unmarked land, and the honey cloaked side of a knife’s edge, and like everything splendid Remus has ever known. And he thinks that yes, he could get used to this right back.

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #REMUSXSIRIUS #SIRIUSXREMUS #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #Spilt Ink

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softinkshadows · 4 years ago

Text

drunken wrong room encounters w adultrio (x female reader)

Disclaimer: contains some lime-y content! HISOKA

The elevator at Heaven’s Arena dinged softly as its doors opened to the 200th floor. Flushed with a giddy smile on your face, your heart was full from the night’s festivities. Today you scored your 4th win on the 200th floor, and took to a nearby bar afterwards to celebrate. Being one of the only female fighters on the floor, you were swarmed with many fans; you smiled to yourself remembering the cheers and ruckus from everyone at the bar, hands offering you yet another shot, loud hooting when you downed them all as you found yourself happily egged on to take one too many drinks. Thankfully the corridor was well-lit, if not you’d have trouble finding your way back to your room. You turned the door handle, going inside. Did I forget to turn off the bathroom light? you wondered absentmindedly, kicking off your shoes. The room smelled a little different - sweeter? There was a scent of damask rose, but you brushed it off. You hummed a small tune as you started to undress yourself for the night, stripping yourself of your pants and outershirts (a little dirtied from the fight earlier) and laying them over the armchair at the room desk, finally only clad in a fitted neoprene tank top and underwear. You sighed a little, steadying yourself with the desk in order to stand up straight when you felt a rush of heat behind you. Strong arms pinned your hands to the desk as you felt the immobilizing weight of another body leaning against you from behind, the scent of roses now wafting heavily close. In your disorientation you felt the texture of a soft bath towel against your butt. “Eh?? Who the hell -” your protests were cut short as the strong limbs flipped you around, maintaining their grip on your wrists. “My, my, it seems like someone went into the wrong room.” A voice purred. You were spun around to face none other than the strongest fighter at Heavens Arena. His striking red hair fell in a damp tangle around his face, still dripping wet from the shower. Your eyes followed the thin trickles of water, as it fell onto his bare, sculpted torso. “Hi-hisoka!” you gasped aloud both in shock at in the embarrassment of the man who was barely clothed and leaning over you on the desk. You felt your face flush with warmth, your head still spinning from the effect of alcohol. He moved closer, golden eyes glinting with mischief, until his face was barely inches away from yours. “I saw your fight earlier, you were.. good,” he emphasized the last word, his lips curling into a smirk. The slight suggestiveness, his piercing eyes, the proximity of his body were enough to make you more flustered, as a strange heat began to pool in your abdomen. “Wait- wh-what is thi- I’m gonna kill y-you,” you stammered incoherently. Hisoka leaned towards your ear.

“Would you like me to... stop?” he whispered, biting on your ear lobe. “A-ah!” you gasped, feeling a tinge of arousal creeping between your legs. He moved downwards to breathe lightly against your neck. “Yes...” he began, using his tongue to delicately trail your skin, travelling the length from your collarbone to your ear, “or no?” His tongue flicked your ear again. His fingers laced with yours, body pressing into you, the sensation of his tongue making you tremble as you felt the heat between your legs grow. “N-...Ye-..yes,” you struggled to form your words, your mind clouded with a feeling of confusion, irritation and pleasure, along with that heady scent of damask rose. “Very well.” You heard a chuckle before you felt the world spin a little. Everything was a blur; you being carried bridal style - the lights and airconditioning of the corridor - another door opening and closing - the softness and familiarity of your own bed. You felt exhaustion begin to wash over you, barely making out Hisoka’s chuckled words before he closed the door. “As for a fight... I’ll do you anytime. Come to me when you’re ready, or when you want your clothes back.” ILLUMI “Y/N, are you sure you don’t want me to walk you back to your room?” Leorio asked, being the gentleman that he was. It was the 287th Hunter Exam, and you managed to clear the 4th round. Now all the participants who passed were on the airship headed from Zevil Island back to the Hunter’s Association building, and you and Leorio had taken to celebrating with rounds of indulgent drinking. “NAH IM OKAY!” you exclaimed exuberantly, even though you were clearly wasted. “Thanks for, y-your hard work todayyyyyyy, Leoleo!” “It’s Leorio!!” he yelled back, irritated but stifling a laugh, before walking towards the other residential wing of the blimp. “Room 16...17...ah 18...?” you clambered around unsteadily, before finding the door knob. The room was dark save for a rectangular window on one wall, letting in some shafts of moonlight. The bed looked incredibly inviting after a long and tiring day, especially with the physical strain of the last exam round. White soft sheets and a thick fluffy duvet heaped on the large bed. At least there were some perks for getting this far, you thought. Standing by the side of the bed, you stretched your body in exhaustion and satisfaction. “Tsukaretaaaaa~ (trans: I’m so tired~~)” you breathed, removing all your clothes in one fell swoop, letting them fall noisily to the floor. You weren’t going to bother with a shower now, you could deal with that tomorrow. Now, you just needed some quality rest before you’d be raring to go for the last exam round the day after. You pulled the soft duvet up to your chin, ready to drift into deep sleep. Next to you, on the other side of the bed, something stirred. A soft, displeased voice grumbled, “Hisoka, what is it this time...” Someone got up and was now above you, legs on either side of your waist, forearms bent at right angles and pressed to the bed to hold themselves up. “I thought we agreed...” Illumi trailed off, looking down at the person he thought was in his bed, before realizing he had made a mistake. For a moment, he was stunned. “Huh?” “Haah?” You responded, in a drunken drawl. Through your flushed cheeks, and slightly blurred vision, you saw a beautiful man with deep raven-coloured eyes. Long black hair fell silkily down to the pillow, cascading like a veil over your head. You were vaguely aware of his arms on both sides of you, and the proximity of his body to yours, but it didn’t feel intrusive. There was almost a feline lightness to his features and limbs. You were certain that you’d never seen this man before, at least throughout the hunter exam, and you were so sure that you were dreaming. Illumi turned his head to look at the discarded clothes on the floor, before turning back to you. “Ah..” He then realized the state of you resting in his bed, and his eyes wavered a little, his heart leaping just a bit faster than usual. What should he do? How did years of assassin training not prepare him for this? At this point you had made a move to sit up slightly, the duvet falling a little further around you below your chest. “Um...” his nimble fingers picking up the duvet to cover your chest, a faint blush dusting his pale cheeks. Enjoying every moment of what you were certain was a dream, you reached up to gently twine your slender fingers in his black hair. “So soft....” you remarked as you felt the strands, your eyes dazzling with awe and inebriation. Your hands made your way to his face, and your fingers moved along his brows, nose, before resting on his cheeks. “So soft~~” you squished his cheeks gently, giggling a little. W-wh-what was that? In a flash, the man above you moved away, and your hands grasped only at air. You sulked out loud a little before falling finally into slumber, letting out a small snore. At the other end of the bed, Illumi was awake, staring at the wall with a strange tingle in his chest, his ears unmistakably red. CHROLLO You’d just about had it. Seething with anger, you pressed your floor button in the hotel lift, leaning back to the wall with your arms crossed. You knew you would have to meet unsavoury people in your job as a reporter, but nothing had readied you for tonight’s event. This gala was attended by the supremely, grossly overpaid upper class, another fundraising event to line the pockets of yet another private trust. The pitiful looks they gave you, their derogatory comments...! Thankfully as part of the job you had a suite in the hotel that hosted the event, and you exploited the complimentary flow of alcohol too... You noticed your suite door ajar, and caught a glimpse of a service cart. Hmph, at least there’s additional room service too, you thought, pushing the door open to enter. The hotel maid caught a glimpse of you, cheeks red from all the wine and champagne, stumbling a little into the suite. Her eyes glanced over towards the master bedroom and back at you, turning embarrassed as if having understood something, before leaving the room hurriedly.

“ANNOYING RICH PEOPLE!” you yelled to yourself, flinging your shoes near the doorway before collapsing on a large leather sofa. You looked out of the down to floor windows at the glimmering lights of the city, floating hazily before you. You felt one of your dress straps fall past your shoulders, and your black evening gown was already hitched up past your knees, but you didn’t really care. A sound of soft footsteps approached before you saw someone looking down at your lying figure. His black hair fell close to his shoulders, there was a funny cross tattoo on his forehead, his grey eyes piercing and inscrutable. Ah, you remembered him from the gala too, although he was alone most of the time, interacting only with a few select people. Now he had half unbuttoned the vest of his 3-piece suit, and was in the process of loosening his tie. His voice was gentle, but contained a trace of amusement. “Miss, I’m afraid you’re in the wrong room.” “NO YOU’RE IN THE WRONG ROOM!” you yelled in drunken stupor, not even making sense anymore. You sat up disheveled. “PEOPLE LIKE YOU ARE ALL THE SAME, LOOKING DOWN ON OTHERS, USING PEOPLE LIKE THEY ARE TOYS AND THEN THROWING THEM AWAY. DO YOU EVEN HAVE ANY HUMANITY?” you ranted, not realizing that he had taken a seat on the sofa near you. He propped his head up with one hand resting on the armrest, his eyes twinkling and he gazed at you. Even with his loosened tie, and a dress shirt tucked out, there was something alluring about him, drawing you deeper into an abyss. You couldn’t tell if it was dangerous or just seductive. You didn’t even hear the words you were saying. “AND DAMN YOU AND YOUR GOODLOOKING FACE.” He chuckled to himself, before looking back into your eyes with his steely grey ones. “And how shall people like me be punished?” he asked softly. You found yourself climbing into his lap, your tousled hair now falling a little out of your bun, you knees between his, as you leaned close to his face. You felt the heat of his body below yours. “LIKE THIS.” Without warning, you raised your hand, and gave his forehead a quick and powerful flick. He didn’t even blink, although his eyes registered some kind of shock. Then Chrollo burst out into a small laugh, running his fingers through his hair. So amusing, he thought to himself. Perhaps I can enjoy myself tonight.

Feeling a little mocked, you continued, spurred by embarrassment, “Y-YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS WITH PEOPLE LIKE YOU? NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU TRY, YOU’RE JUST... EMPTY!”

Before you knew it, suddenly you were on you back, and Chrollo’s hands gripped both of yours, pinning you down hard. Your words had struck a nerve. Surprised from the movement and his reaction, you were speechless, your cheeks now a little warmer when you realized the position you were in, your dress now hiked up almost to your waist. “Perhaps I can prove you wrong,” he whispered, leaning so close both your lips were almost touching. Chrollo knew, from all the women that threw themselves at him throughout the gala, that any of them would immediately take this chance now. He was craving a little release after all, and by this point, no one would refuse. Then, you stared at him, face red with a mixture of anger and embarrassment, and stuck out your tongue defiantly like a child. With your hands pinned above you, you looked away, pouting. S-so cute! One of Chrollo’s hands flew to shield his face momentarily to stifle a laugh, and a discernible blush covered his cheeks. He stood up from the sofa and straightened out his shirt, walking into the bedroom before returning with an extra duvet. By then, you had dozed off asleep, and he glanced at your weary form. Such an amusing, vulnerable creature. He chuckled, laying the duvet gently over you. “Sleep well tonight, my dear. I’ll be with you in the morning when you wake.” ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Notes: I wanted to write the last Chrollo-only one for the previous situation, but somehow this floated into my mind. I found myself internally screaming when writing the Illumi portion becos Hiso-Illu just dropped so casually I’m like... sometimes I’m glad I have this brain

#adultrio #adultrio x reader #hisoka morow #illumi zoldyck #chrollo lucilfer #hisoka morow x reader #illumi zoldyck x reader #chrollo lucilfer x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years ago

Text

Welcome To The Pack: Sing My Song

Part One

Summary- 6.2k Steve Rogers x You. Having you back makes the Alpha very happy, and has a hard time keeping his hands to himself. Which you don’t have any issues with that. Shuri continues her work with you, and making progress everyday, enough so Steve hopes to take you on a run through Wakanda. Bucky and his team are drawing in on Brock, but will they be able to take out the ex Alpha and his bitch for good? Warnings- Smut and Violence. Divider made by @firefly-graphics

A/N- Im breaking this into 2 parts. Its long and I feel like its just a lot to handle all to once. So next chapter will be posted soon. As always, Thank you for sticking with me and The Pack, I hope you all enjoy. As always feedback and your thoughts are encouraged, I’m always open to hearing what you all think and would like to see for them in the future. Happy Reading 🐺❤️

Chapter 8 / Pack Masterlist

You scanned over the crowd, but you still couldn’t see Steve. There were so many people passing mingling, and the room was huge, fit for a palace. You closed your eyes instead and tilted your head slightly to sort through scents, inhaling for him. It made you wish your Little Wolf was back, she would have honed right in on your Alpha. But you could do it on your own, Steve would stand out, woodsy pine and iron, it would stand out from so much of the panthers that the moment you found it, your body curved into it, craving to find the source. Your eyes slid open to look once more and that's when you saw him. His long powerful strides coming towards you, blue eyes roving all of you as if he hungered, all Alpha Male, all your Alpha Male. The white button up was stretched taut over his chest, and the black slacks, crisp, his hands were shoved in his pants pocket for now. Glancing up you could see his hair swept back from his forehead, and underneath his eyes were honed in on you as if stalking you down. In a way he was, as large as Steve was, he weaved through the people with one thing in mind. You. It was simple, and a fitting look for Steve as you felt your breath hitch a moment. His hand swept through his hair, and you could see that he still had a look of surprise on his face, as well as pleasure. Steve seemed to like you looking like this, and that alone made you bite your lip a bit shyly and glance down momentarily, but the moment he paused in front of you, his slight rumble from his chest drew your attention to his warm heated gaze all for you.

“Little One, you look beautiful.” His hands immediately slid along your side, and stepped in closer, your head tilting up to meet him.

“You really do like it? Natasha swore up and down that wearing blue would be the best choice.” Your fingers danced up the buttons of the white shirt while Steve circled an arm around you, there was music playing and the two of you started to barely sway while talking. Steve’s hand pressed against the small of your back, heated through the thin fabric of the dress, and you leaned in against him.

“She was right, reminds me of sitting out on the deck under the night sky when you're wearing this blue.” He assured you and grasped your chin lightly, kissing you deeply. “Come, we must mingle with the Panthers, I know Shuri has been waiting for you.” He nuzzled you gently before tucking you into his side. Already the Alpha felt calmer, more in control having you at his side. The Wolf preened being able to show off the Little One at his side, and Steve had to agree that it did something to him to be escorting you around.

The night proceeded, and although the function was formal, Steve couldn't seem to keep his hands off you, letting it slide from the small of your back to the curve of your ass, pulling you aside onto the open balconies to steal nipping kisses. You were sure that there was at least a red mark on your neck from where he couldn't help himself, the lash of his tongue and a touch of his teeth making you whimper excitedly while you two were just out of sight. Steve hissed in your ear. “I can't wait to get you back upstairs, make you all mine where I don't have to share you with anyone else.”

You would tug on his shirt with a whimper, and brush your own lips against his ear. “Still have to play guest Alpha.” And you would lead him back inside, your hand swallowed in his, together getting lost in the crowd, going back to dancing with one another and being introduced to members of the king's guard and other leaders of the tribes following the King. Steve currently got caught up in proper military techniques when you split a way to go to the bar, opting to switch from the liquor they had been serving you to ice water. Tipping your head back and drinking deeply, the ice cold water cleared the parch from your throat when you heard Natasha sidle up to you. Her pale cheeks flushed red from dancing, and her lipstick slightly smudged.

“Been having a good time Nat?” you smirk, and she winks at you.

“Just as much as you have been. I've seen you disappearing with Steve every chance you two can get. Plus your lipstick is smudged. More than mine I'm sure.” Natasha pulled out a compact from a wrist bag and handed it over. Grabbing a napkin off the bar, you used a dab of water to clean yourself up.

“You were right, with this dress, he can't help himself.” You admitted quietly to Natasha so no passersby were aware of their conversation. “I don't know how much longer he's going to want to stay.”

“Then don't.” Natasha turned around to keep an eye on the crowd, Smirking as she caught the eye of someone. “Speaking of the devil, and he shall appear. Hey Rogers, looking for someone?” she grinned teasing at the Alpha as his hand slid up your back and cupped the back of your neck, his fingers massaging the column loosely.

“Not you, but there was a panther over on the other side of the room, wondering where you disappeared to.” Steve motioned over his shoulder with his free thumb, and Natasha finished off the last of her drink at the bar. “Then I shall go, I had promised him I wouldn't be long.” She leaned over, pecking your cheek with a grin. “Enjoy your afterparty Y/N.” Before Steve could shoo her away, she disappeared from sight, and you turned towards Steve, sipping from what was left of your glass of water. “Thirsty Alpha?” you held up the glass and he groaned.

“I am thirsty, but not for water.” He pulled away the glass from your hold and pulled you in for a deep kiss, taking your breath away. Pulling away before he got too carried away, Steve dipped his nose in against your neck, growling possessively against your pulse when you started to arch into his body, the whisk of fabric between you two reminding you both that you were not back home.

You and Steve put in some more effort to mingle with the others, but once you nudged against Steve's shoulder about an hour later, whispering into his ear that you were tired, Steve nodded while placing a kiss against your temple “Give me a moment to excuse us.” He left you for a moment at a table to bid T’Challa a good night, and thank the queen for her hospitality. When he returned to the table, offering his arm to you, you grasped it lightly and moved to a stand. “You ready Little One to go up?”

“Yes Alpha” You stifled a bit of a yawn, that made Steve chuckle and together you headed for the elevator to the top floors.

Back in the room, Steve was quick to pin you up against the door once it shut behind you, his mouth heavy and demanding on your neck. It had been torture for Steve to wait to be alone with you after T’Challa brought up the idea of future children. It made him heated thinking about it, wanting to bury inside you, watching you come undone all for him. Add that dress that clung to all your curves he was becoming familiar with, well it made him left with a hard on that was driving him crazy.

You tilted your head back to let him inhale you and leave his own scent, his beard rough against your flesh while burning a trail in that way that made your knees shake and your body want more. Your fingers nimbly tug at his shirt until buttons popped across the floor and you pressed hands against the muscular wall of his chest, and around to his bare back, digging your nails into the muscles jerking in response. “Steve, you feel so good.” you panted his name and he lifted his head up enough to look at you. “Get me out of the dress.” You flipped around so he could undo the ties and he tried. Fuck he tried. But there was just so much, and Natasha tied it so tight, his fingers wouldn't cooperate in just this moment. Giving one frustrated growl, Steve yanked hard once and the fabric ripped, making you gasp.

“STEVE! This was Shuri’s dress.” You giggled softly, and he drew it off, his hands grasping against the globes of your ass through your panties, making him growl in a teasing manner as he pulled your ass back into him.

“You tore off my buttons.” He hissed against the back of your neck while pressing his groin into you, clearly able to feel the outline of his cock through the fabric of his slacks, making you tilt your head to look at your Alpha over your shoulder. “I will buy her a new dress.”

“You should probably replace the shirt as well, right? We did borrow it for tonight.” You giggled softly. Steve gave a sharp laugh, amused with your attitude and he gave a sharp nip to your neck which made you yelp with a laugh as his arm circled around you to lift you, bringing you to the bed. He let you bounce on the mattress while he worked on getting his pants and boxers off with a sense of urgency. You twisted and laid on your back, watching Steve while you pressed your hands against your breasts and arched into your hold as you teased your nipples through the fabric of your bra, saying his name again. “Mmmhh, Steve.”

Finally ditching the last of it, he grabbed your ankles and dragged you down the bed a bit. “Little One, I don't think so. Only one allowed to touch you, is me. Only one to get you off is me.” You gave a playful pout as his shoulders parted your thighs open till you spread them. Giving a inhale against your clothed core and running his tongue over your soaking cotton panties, you wriggled as another rush of wetness filled you. “Fuck you smell so good, just like sex.” growling out as his fingers found the elastic band holding it all together and snapped it sharply, making you yelp at the sting while he peeled the wet cloth away from you.

“We are all about destroying all the clothes today Alpha?” You lifted your head to look at him, biting on your lip as he dragged his tongue along the red mark the snap of the band had caused.

“When you look and taste this good, you don't need them Little One.” His eyes lust blown, lips wet and bright red where he had dragged them against your skin. Your gaze followed him as his tongue buried into your folds while his hands pressed against the back of your thighs, folding you back.

“Oh Fuck!” You cried out, feeling your body stretch tight with the way he folded you and his tongue tease your sensitive cunt while he groaned and growled just enough to vibrate through you. A tug at your clit had you snapping your back and twisting to find something to grasp and Steve angled a forearm against the back of your knees to keep you open for him. Fingers soon started to stretch you open, adding to the full sensation he was demanding from you. At first your hands sought to grip the sheets, but it wasn't useful to tug on them. Instead you pushed your fingers into his hair, pulling harshly and rocking your hips to grind yourself against his face for more. Steve’s beard burned your thighs and sensitive folds roughly, causing you to cry out once in a while. But he didn't stop till you were locking around his digits, rush of your juices escaping to coat his tongue and lower jaw. He wouldn’t stop though, if anything when you came, he doubled his efforts, his mouth and fingers working you through it to the end when you collapsed back against the mattress.

“Steve you gotta stop for a moment.” you tugged gentler on his hair, trying to get him to lift his head. But his eyes lifted and you shuddered from his look. Steve had no plans on stopping yet.

Fingers twisted to stroke your walls, and just the motion made you want to do just as he asked for. He nipped the back of your highs he had held back, worked down to sink his teeth in plump ass cheeks enough to leave a playful imprint before going back to tease and suck on your clit.

The Alpha had you coming once again, locking around his fingers, and he nuzzled against you while lapping your essence with satisfaction. “So good Little One.” His beard dragged a moment along the back of your thighs, leaving a trail of yourself in its wake. It was only then that Steve let your legs fall back and his hands framed your hips to slide you up the bed, pressing kisses and gentle bites to your fluttering stomach till he had you where he wanted you. Steve pushed himself up your body to drag that soaked beard along your skin, biting just hard enough to make you jump slightly, whining his name.

“Alpha”

He rumbled from his chest in pleasure hearing you call him Alpha, his hands palming your breasts through your bra, and working your bra down enough to expose your breasts. “Yes Little One?” He asked before he claimed a nipple, sucking and tugging on it, pressing a finger back into your heat, spreading slick and teasing your spot only his long fingers could reach. He was bringing you high again, rather quickly as you never came back down from before. Your whine turns needy, your fingers grasping at anything, his back, his shoulders, his hair. None of them could quite save you, not when he was looking at you while swirling the tongue over your nipple until they were hard peaks, so sensitive that you were arching into it over and over “You're going to make me cum again.”

A particular hard suck made you shudder as he smirked. “That's the goal Little One. Your not leaving till I’ve had my fill and I fuck you good. Seeing you dolled up like that made the Wolf hungry.” He promised, before switching to the other, and his weight across your body kept you in place while you came again all over his hand that was pumping and grinding your cunt.

“Steve, oh I need a breath.” you said in a gasp, your hands fisting in your hair as you tried to drag air into your lungs. But he didnt give in yet. Sliding up the rest of your body, his lips interlaced against yours, tongue that was warm and still tasted of your taint took control, and at this point, you just hung on, trying to draw air where you could. Only when you were gasping for air against his lips did he lift away from you, taking a lingering look at you.

Steve’s eyes were like caresses all on their own, taking his own sharp inhale to enhance the moment before his gaze fell back to yours and a smile ghosted his lips. “You look beautiful tonight, especially right now, all dazed and breathless Little One.” His hands eased along your hips and twisted you to your stomach, lifting your waist up so your ass was raised above you, his palms cupping your curved globes and letting his fingers sink in. It was no secret that Steve loved seeing you in this position, and truth be told it was one of your favorites as well. It reminded you of your heat with Steve having you this way, and you felt him for days afterwards. His marks would be left on your hips, and every time you caught sight of them in the mirror following that heat, you were excited, turned on knowing he couldn't contain himself, having sent him into a rut. Here you took a breath, drawing it deep and humming in satisfaction when he leaned over you to place hungry kisses against the back of your neck.

“One day when you're ready, I'm going to give you the bite Little One, I will take away the memories of these scars. Of those hands.” His nose traced the back of your neck, dropping your head to let the sensation fill you. “These will be the only ones to trace your skin, hold your body still. The only one to love you like this.”

How badly you wanted just what he said, curling your fingers into the pillows you were pressed against and took a dragging breath. You wanted to tell him to do it, you wanted it, you only wanted his bite to be the one that mattered on your body. But you didn't want to do it without your Little Wolf, the bond belonged to both of you.

“You promise?” You whined, shivering wherever his hands traced you, and his mouth laid claim to the curve where your neck met your shoulder. “When the time is right?”

“As long as you will have me Little One.” He growled as his cock pressed against your cunt, and so easily stretched you open for him, your head was thrown back and he wrapped a hand around the front of your throat while he thrusted himself in further. The stretch, it felt so good that tears formed in the corner of your eyes and you arched back to meet him, pressing yourself to accept all of him. Steve set the pace, rutting behind you with a slap of hips against your ass, and shared grunts and groans between you. You were pressing your chest into the mattress till he pulled you up to your elbows, shifting your angle and tilting his hips to grind into you, you gasped when he pressed against your spot.

“Again Steve- fuck- right there, fuck!”

“Such a dirty mouth on you Little One.” be licked along your neck and you whimpered when he obliged, now aiming just for that spot over and over till you were crying rather loudly in pleasure, tears streaming down your face and sobs of incoherent words falling from you. Your cunt squeezing and flexing around him for relief, to feel him spill in you.

“Fuck, your right there.” He hissed out from clenched teeth, and his hand slipped around to press against your lower stomach to feel his cock drive into you, swelling and pulsing as he pressed down making you whimper once more at the sensation of how full you were. Steve could have came right there hearing you whimper at him like that, knowing he was taking you apart just to bring you back together. It was then he let his hands fall lower between your thighs pressing and rolling your clit, making you buck underneath him.

“Alpha, Oh-!” you cried out, and Steve just growled in response, a loud animalistic sound ripping from him.

Your nails dug into the pillows until you pressed a knuckle into your mouth, biting down. The rush, it was fast coming, those coils in your belly snapping one by one till you locked around him, flooding him and half collapsing if it wasn't for his hold on your throat. “So good Little One.” Steve grunted in your ear, and moaning softly to let him know you heard, his thrusts started to slow, groaning as he dragged his cock through your swollen cunt. His breaths heavily against the back of your neck and his chest pressed hotly against your back .

Steve's hands grasped your hips and straightened to chase his own rush, sure to fill you with his own seed, the drive to fuck a child in you made both him and the wolf happy, and he let those images drive his hips forward till he started to tilt over the edge, with several hard thrusts that pushed you hard into the mattress beneath you, the air from your lungs escaping in a harsh gasp. Steve's release painted you with his seed, pushing it deep to the womb. “Fuck Little One, I’m never going to get enough of you.“ He groaned as he sank to drape over your back and his weight kept you pinned there for a moment as he came back to you. Nuzzling your neck, he wasn't able to move away, the knot still buried deep, but he could relieve the pressure on your back.

“I'm gonna roll us a bit.” He huffed against your shoulder and you whined as he tipped you and him to your sides, spooning behind you now while you still were catching your breath.

Your face was pressed into the pillow for a few moments, until you tilted your head to breath, drawing in the sex filled air, heavy with the scent of your sweaty satisfied bodies. You could feel the rasp of Steve's chest against your back, his hands pressed to your hip keeping you drawn back against him while the feeling of his knot was still holding you to him. Your hand reached back for his, weaving your fingers through his and bringing it to wrap around your midsection.

“Alpha?” You said softly, and you could feel him nuzzle the back of your neck, scenting you as he hummed in response.

“Are you okay Little One?” he shifted enough so that he could kiss your shoulder. Gentleness compared to his mouth before on you.

“Yes, I am fine.” You tilted your head to look at him over your shoulder, your fingers squeezing with his just a bit. Your Little Wolf would have been so proud, and how you wished she could have been with you for this. “I love you Steve Rogers, Alpha. My Alpha”

Steve's eyes widened, although he had felt this for you well before Pierce, or what he felt was love, it was so very different this time then it was before with his ex, he had never wanted to push you into feeling the same way. But hearing those words fall so easily from you, he knew what it was. You were quick though to press your fingers against his mouth before he could say anything.

“Dont, you don't have to say it back. You don't have to Steve.” Your eyes flickered over his before you settled back down, Steve gave an open mouthed kiss to your neck, his tongue pressing against the thrum of your pulse, just barely grazing his teeth against the very spot he would give you the bite once you say you were ready for it.

“Y/N, Little One, I love you too, my Omega.” You shivered a bit hearing him call you Omega, his omega. It was a term honored for someone truly special to an Alpha. You could feel your heart almost ache hearing him.

Steve never pulled out, you ended up drifting to sleep like that, your Alpha wrapped around you, inside you, your head cradled on his bicep. His other arm was splayed against your stomach as he held you close to him, his nose buried in your hair. Both of you are satisfied and at ease. The dreams that night, Steves Wolf continued howling for his Little Wolf, and you saw pale flashes of fur in your mind and barely audible howls back to him, or were those just his echos?

Days turned into a week, and daily Steve would bring you to Shuri’s lab, then back to the room to rest as you would be tired. Her technology was fascinating to Steve, Him and Natasha would watch Shuri work from just outside her lab. Steve didn't want to be far from you, and Natasha was keeping an eye on her Alpha. When Shuri got to work, large images would be portrayed before her, and it didn't take long for both the wolves watching to realize that they were seeing an image of your mind, the electrical current of your thoughts and memories, your brain telling your body what to do. Shuri chased each one with intense concentration till she would isolate it, figure out what the charge was for and right the issue. Each day a little more would happen. One day at lunch with Steve and Natasha, you suddenly grasped Steve’s forearm in surprise. “I saw her, she wouldn't answer me, but I saw her.” You would say, your eyes snapping shut to seek her out. Natasha paused mid bite with her food, and Steve turned towards you.

His hands cupped your face and a soft rumbling demand escaped. “Open your eyes.” They sprang open for him to search them, sure that the Little Wolf would make herself known to him soon. A spark of yellow, a soft howl for his Wolf. Anything, but nothing yet. “She will be back soon, a little more everyday.” Steve assured you afterwards.

And it happened again, Steve was gentle in his love making that night. His hands clasped against yours that were pressed on either side of your head, rolling himself in and out of you as you withered beneath him with soft cries and moans. Chanting his name in that soft whisper the closer you were about to come for him like it was a way to keep yourself from falling apart beneath him.

He flushed kisses down your neck and chest. Keeping his thrusts slow and deep, letting you feel that stretch and drag of his cock through your channel. It was an afternoon of lazy lovemaking for you both. No desire to reach an end, but enjoying the feeling of each other. Your legs ached with tension when they locked around his hips, the rest of your body stiffening underneath him while arching your chest into his. You head tilted back into the pillows and instead of your passionate cry, you howled instead. It started out in a soft tone and rose sharply till you collapsed underneath him, your eyes opening to show hints of yellow. You were too dazed to even know what happened, and Steve didn’t say anything while you were like this. He dropped his head to yours, catching your lips to kiss you while he found his own ending, lowering himself to keep you secure between him and the mattress while you clung to him.

Afterwards you were laying against his chest, his hand sliding up and down your back, and your breathing telling him you were asleep. Steve thought back on that intimate moment, and how you had let yourself go to your wilder side.

<She’s close. I can smell her coming back.> The Wolf said excitedly, his muzzle lifting to smell for her. <It will be the Full Moon here soon, she will want to run.>

Steve's head dropped against your head, inhaling deeply. Sure enough you smelled like you always did to him, soft honeysuckle and fresh ferns, but there was that other distinct scent. You. You and Your Wolf. She was coming back.

Just a few more days. Your right. Just in time for the Full Moon. We will speak about it to T’Challa.

When Steve did bring it up with the Panther, he was more than understanding, as his people used the Full Moon to do their own gathering. “Of course, if she is ready, You, Natasha and Y/N feel free to go anywhere in Wakanda. No one will stop you from your Run.”

Elated with this news, Steve was sure to thank him profusely, and go tell Natasha. A knock on her door and she opened it, ushering him into her room. You were curled up on her couch, currently using a phone to talk to Sara.

“Just here and there. Steve said he noticed her the other night. I’m hoping for it any day now. I really do miss her.” Catching Steve’s scent, and hearing him greet Natasha, you turned back to your phone call. “In fact he’s here right now. Would you like to talk to him?” You questioned while unfolding from your spot, and approaching him. His arm held out so you could tuck into him while handing him the phone. “It's Sara, she was just checking in on us.”

Pressing the phone to his ear, he could hear his friend's sleepy voice. “Hey Alpha, Y/N tells me you all are really doing good in Wakanda.”

“Yes, we are. I know Natasha’s been enjoying the extra sun for sure.” His gaze turning to the red wolf, who now was sporting a tan, she grinned and nodded, speaking a bit louder. “I might just stay, there's this one Panther Sara, who is just… whew!”

Steve scowled at her while you laughed, hiding your face in his side, and Natasha had no shame in her Cheshire Grin.

“You would fit right in here, you're basically a feline now Romanoff.” Steve replied with a shrug, feigning he wouldn't care, but both you and Nat knew better.

Sara on the other end was howling with laughter, Sam could be heard in the background. “Go back to sleep!” A shuffle sounded, and a click of the door signaled she left the room to Sam.

“How’s Sam liking you two being the stand ins?” Steve turned it back to the conversation.

“Oh he grumbles and complains, but he's just fine. You know Sam. We have this place running just fine till you and Y/N come home.”

“And Bucky, Clint, Wanda and Pietro?” Steve questioned, almost hesitant. He hadn't heard anything from Bucky since he arrived, and had hoped Sara at least had. But the sound of her voice was soft.

“No Steve, nothing. I have left several messages. To be honest, I'm getting worried about them.”

Steve and the Wolf didn't like that, a slight rumble brushing through the Wolf in worry for his packmates. Torn between wanting to go back to find the group, and making sure you had everything you needed to bring back your Little Wolf left him unsettled. “I don't expect to be here much longer, if you don't hear from one of them in a few days, send out a call to the packs nearby. Maybe one of them has seen the group.”

Natasha sat on edge of the couch, near you listening intently. Once Steve hung up, she got up.

“Let me go home. You two are fine without me now.”

Steve hesitated and you shrugged at him softly from behind Natasha. It seemed like a good idea, as he had said before, they shouldn't be here too much longer. and the Alpha nodded. “Starks jet is still here, go and see if they are okay. If Brock did something to any of them… “ He led off in a growl and Natasha nodded, going to gather her stuff. You pushed off the couch and went to Steve, rubbing at his rumbling chest and looking up at him.

“I'm sure they are okay Alpha.” you said, and he nodded, letting his hands ease along your back, the simple move making him relax, regain his calm.

“I'm sure they are just busy on the trail.”

Busy was right, Bucky watched out front of where they found Brock and Alanna, holed up. A series of trails finally led them to here, in this suburban looking area where every house looked exactly the same. The last place Brock would have thought they would look for him, seeing how he hated people as much as he did. It was exactly what Bucky suspected him to do.

<Clint and Wanda are out back, Pietro with us. It's probably the best time to storm the place. Most of the neighborhood is at work.> The White Wolf cautious to his surroundings, as vigilant as his human counterpart. The beast craved to be more hidden, out of sight. Right now Bucky was leaning against the door of the car with a pair of binoculars, scoping the place out for any sign of movement. Any sign of Cassandra still being alive.

I hate to go in when nobody is there, we will just blow our cover and they will be gone again. I can smell them easily, but I can't tell if anyone is inside.

There was a slight crackle to Bucky's earpiece. “Barnes, we just had a curtain move upstairs and Alanna looked out. She’s at least there, and I doubt she would stay all alone.” Clint's voice came over. Pietro looked at Bucky expectantly, waiting for him to make the decision.

<He’s in there. Rumlow is a son of a bitch, but he's untrusting of anyone, including a bitch he claimed as his. He won't leave Alanna alone with Cassandra. He knows Alanna is a jealous bitch.> Bucky pondered the White Wolf’s words a moment and then responded to Clint. “You and Wanda go in the back, we will go in the front. Watch yourselves.”

Pietro and Bucky left the van, quick to go across the street. Bucky heard a loud bang of a door, and his foot also connected to the front door, ramming it in as they entered. Hoping for an element of surprise, expecting it actually. What they weren't expecting was several smoke bombs to go off, their senses overwhelmed with the burning smoke. Clint tried to get up higher, above it while rushing up the stairs, a boot connected to his chest to push him back down. A masked Rumlow leaping over the bannister and landing in front of Bucky. “Fuck, good to see you again Barnes.” He laughed muffled into his mask while he went after the White Wolf, who was still coughing and trying to catch his breath. He was able to match Brock's throws, blocking them, and giving off his own while he wheezed in more of the gas.

From behind Alanna went for Wanda, who was trying to summon enough of a breeze to dislodge the gas, red sparks shooting around her, but a swing connected behind the woman's head before she even knew anything hit her, and Wanda was down. Pietro was doubled over coughing when he happened to notice Wanda collapse nearby and made his way to his sister. He leaned down next to her to slide his arms underneath her to bring her out of the house, when Alanna caught him unaware as well, Pietro collapsing next to Wanda. Alanna was quick to pull out two sinister looking collars from her back pockets, and latched them around each person's neck while calling out. “two out of four Brock!”

“Get the fucking archer!” He snarled as he blocked Bucky again while the two men moved crashing around the room. Both of them tripping over living room furniture and trying to get the upper hand against the other. Bucky faltered for a second, hearing that two of his team were already taken out. Brock took that moment to send him sprawling back to crash into a bookcase, sending its contents scattering.

Alanna paid no heed to who was getting the upper hand between Brock and Bucky. She had her order from her Alpha, and that sent her scrambling to get to the staircase, and up the stairs to take care of Clint. Looking up she didn't see any sign of him, and fear of where he might be made her and her wolf hesitate in a cower for a second. She knew she wouldn't be a match for him. Not single handed. Smirking she turned back to Wanda and Pietro, who were now collared, and starting to come around. “Sobaki.” Alanna called them dogs in Russian, and they both turned their attention to her, eyes lowered and vacant as they stared ahead, waiting for her command.

“Ahh, that's better. Go get Clint and put this on him.” She handed Wanda another collar, and barked out. “NOW!”

Without hesitation, both the siblings went racing up the stairs, and Alanna could turn her attention to Brock and Bucky, who were both evenly matched. But Bucky was starting to get the upper hand, placing more hits to Brock, instead of blocking. Taking advantage of his opponent getting tired, using his speed and size to back him up, leaving him no way to escape. “Where is she?” Bucky screamed his question as he started to corner Brock, his teeth bared at the ex alpha.

Brock spit blood off to the side while dragging his forearm across his mouth. His whole demeanor changed from a scowl to a red stained grin, his face going hard and cold as he squared his shoulders, a smirk sliding in place. “Cassandra your sweet little village whore? Is that who you're talking about?” Bucky closed the gap between the two, a hand flipping a knife out from a holster at his side, and pressing the blade to Brock’s bobbing adam’s apple.

“You tell me where she is Rumlow, and I might kill you quickly.” Bucky threatened.

#alpha steve x you #alpha steve #welcome to the pack #the pack #steve rogers au #steve rogers #amber writes #sweater writes #werewolf Steve #werewolf au #marvel fanfic #marvel #shapeshifter steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #bucky barnes #tchalla #shuri #brock rumlow

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babyboyblasty · 3 years ago

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CHAPTER 10:

"You look nice, Deku" Uraraka smiled, her hands held behind her back as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet in a childish manner, looking at her green haired friend. "Is there anyone in particular you're trying to impress?" she gave him a knowing look that Izuku stuttered and blushed to.

"No! O-of course not" he immediately denied and averted his eyes when that only seemed to make Uraraka's smirk widen. Izuku knew he was a terrible liar and Uraraka could be very scary sometimes. "But um, hypothetically speaking.. if I /were/ trying to impress someone- which I'm not- but hypothetically speaking do you think they'll.. you know. Be impressed? Hypothetically."

Uraraka looked her friend up and down. Izuku's fashion sense has definitely improved since the beginning of their first year. Both Tsuyu and herself had made sure to teach Deku and Todoroki a thing or two about dressing themselves since they were completely clueless sometimes. Midoriya was wearing brown, cuffed corduroy pants with a forest green oversized short sleeve button up, a lighter green long sleeve underneath that to create layers. The red shoes were never going away though and Uraraka gave up in trying to get him to wear another pair of shoes. He looked good and Uraraka noticed how his hair was a bit neater too so he obviously put a bit of extra effort into trying to style his curls. In fact, looking around the common room it seemed that Deku wasn't the only one who put a little extra effort into their appearance today. Half the boys there looked like they were going off to a party instead of a casual class outing. Even Iida looked like he was trying out a new hairstyle. No glasses either.

"Umm, Uraraka-san?" Izuku waved his hand in front of the girl's face to get her attention. She zoned out for a bit there and she blinked, turning to face him again.

"Oh, right! Well, /hypothetically speaking/ right?" she smiled and he nodded, "I think they'll be very impressed." Deku beamed and her eyes shifted to Todoroki who was just arriving downstairs. "Oh, look! There's Todoroki-kun. Let's go talk" she grabbed Deku's hand in hers and took him with her. He looked very good! Todoroki's aesthetic was more of a simplistic/classy style with neutral colors. This time he decided to switch it up and was wearing a white t-shirt with an unbuttoned, loose fitting pale blue and white striped dress shirt over that. He had black jeans and white sneakers too. He looked very good. "Oooo~ is there anyone /you're/ trying to impress, Todoroki-kun?" Ochako teased.

"Yes."

Ochako didn't expect such a direct answer but giggled anyway at her blunt friend. Deku on the other hand didn't find it as funny.

"Is Bakugou here yet?" Shoto changed the subject and looked around the common room but didn't spot the explosion quirk user anywhere. He felt a little disappointed.

"No, Kacchan isn't here. Neither is Kirishima-kun" Izuku really tried to keep the bitterness out of his tone. He knew that they were best friends but did they really have to be glued at the hip 24/7? Deku doesn't like the way he starts to feel when he thinks of those two together but he can't help it.

"Oh" Shoto mumbled. There was an awkward silence where no one said anything for a few seconds until Uraraka couldn't stand it and broke it.

"So how are you feeling, Todoroki-kun? Are you still tired or are you feeling a bit better from earlier?" Ochako questioned. That got Izuku's attention and he turned to Todoroki with a curious expression. Was he sick? Todoroki didn't mention anything to him today. He wondered why he didn't tell him.

"I feel better, thank you. I'm excited to be going out with my friends" he smiled briefly and Izuku returned it. After that things started to go back to normal as they talked about what stores they wanted to go to and if they had anything in particular they wanted to buy. The common room was filled with brief conversation before the 'ding' of the elevator was heard and everyone turned to look at a nervous Kirishima standing on the far opposite side of a bored looking Bakugou. Izuku felt a knot form in his throat and Todoroki felt his heart skip a beat, their faces heating up a little at what girl Kacchan was wearing. He looked good. Hell, even if he was in his normal body and wore that he'd look good.

"You're here!" Mina rushed forward to hug her two friends in a crushing hug which Kirishima gladly returned. The girls may or may not be feeling smug at how everyone reacted to seeing Bakugou. Yeah, they did that.

"I said I would go with you extras, didn't I? Now let go, pinky" Bakugou groaned. She smiled wide before stepping back.

"This'll be so much fun!" Mina jumped up and down.

"Everyone please form a single file line for attendance! As class president I must make sure everyone is accounted for before we vacate school grounds" Iida made sure to grab everyone's attention by speaking loud and clear as well as waving his arms about. Where he pulled the clipboard from no one knows but Iida started to check off names in the class roster to submit to Aizawa sensei once they come back in a few hours. "Alright. Everyone is here. We can go now" he nodded in confirmation.

The class had to take the bus to go to the mall so Iida stayed by the door until everyone was inside before going in himself. Bakugou was planning to sit with Kirishima but the redhead as soon as he was in the bus went and sat beside Sero instead. Katsuki was confused since they always sit together and even Sero was looking between the pair in confusion. "You don't mind, right Bakubro?" Kirishima awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. Bakugou just shrugged and moved on to find an empty seat to which Kirishima let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

"What was that?" Sero questioned once Bakugou was out of earshot.

"What was what?" Kirishima turned to him.

"That. You always sit with Bakugou so why all of a sudden did you decide to sit next to me? I don't mind but I was a little caught off guard, man. You know, you've been acting weird ever since the night we played games in my room. Is everything cool?" Sero had an idea of what was happening but he wanted to hear it from Kiri himself.

"Yeah, everything's good. I just need to sort some things out for myself first" he explained and Sero nodded, leaving it at that. Kirishima appreciated that about Sero. He knew if it was Mina or Kaminari they wouldn't stop pestering him about it. Kirishima just wanted some time to hopefully figure out why he was all of a sudden feeling so weird around Katsuki.

On the other end of the bus, towards the back, Bakugou found an empty seat. Everyone else seemed to be already sitting with someone else but he didn't really mind it. Once seated, Bakugou put his elbow up on the edge of the window and looked outside. He felt someone slightly tap his shoulder though and looked up to a shy Koda. 'May I sit here?' he signed and Bakugou raised an eyebrow. He rolled his eyes and signed back 'go for it' and Koda smiled a little, quickly sitting down beside Bakugou. Aizawa did mention that because of his quirk, he may experience hearing loss in the future if he didn't take the proper precautions so Bakugou has been taking JSL classes from Koda since the beginning of their second year and developed a somewhat mutual understanding with the guy. He really wasn't all that bad, just a little quiet. And while they weren't friends friends, Bakugou knew that if he ever needed a quiet place to study or just hang out for a bit without talking, he could go to Koda's room. The same went for Bakugou. If Koda ever wanted to spar or wanted pointers to help in improving his fighting skills, Bakugou is available.

Now that everyone had a seat, the bus began to move. The ride was going to take approximately fifteen to twenty minutes so he just wanted to use the break to relax. Bakugou could tell Koda wanted to say something based on the way he would look at him every few minutes but then look away though. "What is it?" he finally asked a little less than halfway into the trip and Koda shook his head. "I know you want to say something, now what is it?"

Koda looked hesitant at first but then signed 'how are you feeling?' with a sincere look. Maybe if it was someone else Bakugou would have told them off for getting into his business but Koda was someone who earned his respect and admiration throughout their time together in UA and who he saw as an equal.

"Why do you ask?" he asked instead, a bit defensive, and Koda responded by signing 'this is a big change and I was just wondering how you were doing.' Bakugou shrugged. "It isn't something I can't handle. Besides, today is the last day of the quirk so I should be back to normal by tomorrow morning" Bakugou mumbled, adding in a "thanks" as an afterthought. Honestly speaking, Koda has been the only one who's asked him how he felt about this whole quirk situation. The rest of his classmates all just seemed to be having fun with it and while he didn't mind, it was nice to be asked.

'You're always welcome to come hang out with me and my bunny if you ever need quiet time,' Koda offered. 'He told me he misses the angry blonde boy with the warm hands" he joked. Bakugou smirked a little with a "tch, sure whatever. Tell 'im I miss the furball too" leaving his lips. After that Bakugou and Koda fell into a comfortable silence where Bakugou closed his eyes to rest for the few minutes they had left on the bus ride.

Everyone else in class 3-A never thought they'd see the day where they all wished they were in Koda's place. The anivoice boy was sitting perfectly still so as to not wake the pretty blonde that had leaned his head on the other's shoulder sometime along the trip and was now sleeping peacefully on him.

[word count: 1775]

( this fan art isn't in correlation with the story chapter but oH MY GOD LOOK HOW PRETTY GIRL BAKUGOU IS- 😩)

#bakubowl #fanfic #boku no hero academia #bakugou x everyone #bnha #gender bender #temporary fem!bakugou #fem!bakugou #bakugou centric #BAKUBOOBS!?!

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askmyboys · 3 years ago

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I’d call these more, my own interpretations instead of just OCs

I’ll tell you how this happened tho, i was literally just comin back from a l o n g ass road trip listenin to the musical and my tired lil brain started thinkin bout these boys and i was like ...what if i just,, made my o w n versions of em? What if I just,, and then boom, out popped well, this-

| Names: Henry Jekyll and Edward Hyde

| Nicknames: Jekyll doesn’t much care for nicknames but Hyde calls him Jek, Hen or Hen-Hen, or Henny which he REALLY hates. For the other, it’s either Ed or just simply Hyde ...Jekyll has given him many ‘nicknames’ mostly they are hateful ones tbh.

| Genders: Henry goes by he/him and Hyde goes by he/him and it/its

| Ages: Unknown but they are both adults

| Heights: Jekyll is 5’7” and Hyde is like 6��6” for sure (even tho they inhabit the same body, fuck it, im makin the rules ..andchangingthemfromtheogthing but i say height changes when Hyde’s in control)

| Species/Races: Henry’s a human ofc and Hyde? Honestly, idk what this thing is, all i can tell you is he’s stinky

| Eye Colors: Jekyll’s eyes are a Baby Blue color and Hyde’s eyes are Blood Red (ooh e d g y man)

| Hair Colors: Jekyll’s hair is honestly a messy curly undercut and the color of it is a dark brown and he has gray on the sides meanwhile Hyde’s hair is Black and in a spiked quiff style and he also has gray on the sides

| Skin Colors/Body Types: Jek’s a BIT pale but Hyde’s a much more- his skin is definitely more so a Whitish Gray kinda color so it’s definitely more noticeable than Jek’s skin if you look close enough at that (things do have to change when a certain one is in control of the body, can’t be EXACTLY the same or else it might give away that their the same person hehe) and their body types don’t really change- Jek’s body type is skinny (nothing TOO bad ofc, just a tad bit) if Hyde had his own body he’d definitely be a more average kinda bulkier build.

| Appearances: Okay first things first- they both have circle beards EXCEPT Hyde’s is a LOT more scruffier (he also has thicker sideburns btw!) and a BIT more grown out than Jek’s which is trimmed a bit more and groomed perfectly.

Jekyll usually has the typical lab coat on and a baby blue turtleneck underneath it, he also has blue pants that he wears with it as well and some oxford shoes that match the outfit, he also wears circle glasses as well (they help him see a lot better p much whereas when Hyde’s in control he doesn't really need em actually) Henry has a GOOD amount of scars all over his body, whether it be by accident, inflicted on purpose, or something more… It’s partially why he keeps his turtleneck on mostly and the lab coat helps as well- he’s ashamed of the scars and he tries to hide them especially so no one will worry about him, also for some more minor details- he wears a black watch on his wrist as well (he has no piercings or nothin like that) that’s p much it for Jek tbh, his features are p much 100% human so uh yeye

Now onto Hyde’s outfit- And yes, keep in mind- he’s still kinda,, an entity or whatever the fuck he is inside Henry’s body essentially but he DOES change his clothes when going out- his main one for going out is usually a black cloak he wears around himself (the outfit underneath is a black suit vest with a long dark red tie (his shirt underneath the suit vest is a dark red long sleeved shirt), he also wears black pants, and dark red oxford shoes, and of course he’s got a black top hat on (the band on it is red, definitely keeping a black n red themed appearance here aint he?) (his other outfits, hm I can leave up to the imagination tbh this is just for when he’s travelling around and so other people don’t spot him nearly as easily, especially when it’s n i g h t t i m e…) he’ll wear whatever the fuck he wants, and it doesn’t have to be fancy in the s l i g h t e s t- he has a variety of options.

He also has pointed ears, razor sharp teeth (got them bear trap teeth but not only that, he’s got a lot more s e c r e t teefs than that ;) he’s a lot more monstrous on the inside than the outside i’ll say that much, Jek’s n Hyde’s anatomy does change and transform depending on who gains control ...honestly it probs hurt to have your body transform and shift like that ouchie) he also has multiple tongues, he has claws that he painted black and red for the a e s t h e t i c s ya know- and hell at this point he might as well have tentacles ...He might- but I mean if you really wanna know, fuck around and find out for yourself and fuck it- he also has a dark red devil style tail since he wanna act like fuckin Satan himself smh

...I made him a lot more monstrous than originally planned but eh its fitting- bc this is Jek’s body even with a LOT of changes in these regards, he’s got the same scars n such as that, he also wears black and red spiral gauges in his ears (I should also say, he can technically hide these features to make himself appear more human, i didnt originally intend on giving him any actual monstrous features except maybe sharp teeth, claws, n the pointed ears but here we are, he still gotta not arouse suspicion around him too much tho) also his eyes have dark circles around them, not because he’s a tired man he’s just a fucking- hellish bastard who loves to look intimidating.

| Personalities: Let’s uhh start off with Jekyll because he’s better and nicer and not nasty and gross n smelly looking- He’s kind, sweet, compassionate, caring, honestly wouldn’t hurt a fly himself- could never willingly hurt someone! A sweet babey man! He’s very intelligent- I mean,, he IS a Doctor after all, he takes pride in his work but it’s not that overbearing narcissistic type pride, he’s just proud of the breakthroughs he’s made ...Granted, there is one “breakthrough” he wished he could take back .. -glancing slowly at Hyde in the reflection of the mirror- ahem- but he’s always been pretty outgoing but a lot has changed since, that abomination came into his life, sure he still tries his best to be a good person, he tries his very damnedest to find some sorta way to separate or better yet a way to destroy this evil vile beast that plagues his and everyone else’s lives! He’d rather destroy Hyde than separate from him because even then, it's still back to square one only with worse damage since he’d be of his own free will now.

He shuts himself away in his Lab a LOT, as much as he can anyways to avoid going out and risking something more happening to anyone else, of course…

There is no avoiding the outside world forever, he needs things to eat and drink, he needs things to keep his body functioning and not to mention not going outside could drive him, well, more insane than he already feels he is- He just tries to be as quick as he can about it before the other takes control or tries to, Jek definitely has a lotta anxieties and fears, and ya know at this point I mean,, hell- the man’s got trauma- Sometimes he wonders if any of this is actually real, if he had just gone insane and was just imagining all this, sometimes his head hurt because of all the thoughts and potential scenarios along with their outcomes plagued his mind, he feels a lot of things he never thought he’d feel towards anyone, he feels anger and hatred toward Hyde but in a way aside from feeling so negatively toward the other, he can’t help but admire the way Hyde wishes to just simply l i v e, and even before this beast became apart of him… He was always anxious deep down and almost scared to take that jump when needed.

But Hyde? Hyde doesn’t seem to even c a r e! That thing lives it’s life without any care whatsoever, he doesn’t have any anxieties or fears at all it seems! In a way, Henry might even be a lil envious toward the other’s carefree attitude and that he’s free of anxieties and fears ...H-He still doesn’t want the other around, he still wishes to destroy Hyde of course, even with the envy and maybe a slight bit of admiration he has his morals and principals, and if Hyde continues to exist or w o r s e gets his own body it could prove v e r y perilous.

Now onto… Eugh, Hyde- The bastard man himself- He’s stinky- an evil bastard who really needs just a good punch in the face (god don't do it yourself tho, he’ll probs eat ur entire arm) Hyde’s absolutely disgusting, will do ANYTHING to get what he desires, he can be narcissistic in some regards, VERY prideful and greedy in many ways, he isn’t above committing murder like really, was he EVER above it? If he wanted, he’d literally murder you not even for a bag of corn chips but literally just one, psh- selling you to satan for one? Bah that’s amateur’s work! He’s somehow a minor inconvenience who can commit REALLY nasty and horrible atrocities at the same time if he feels like it, if he finds out something annoys you or REALLY pisses you off he’s going to keep doing it, he will literally try driving you insane just for the fun of it, really at this point it doesn’t seem like he HAS much of a goal but to just l i v e and cause chaos, destruction, and mayhem wherever he goes, he despises Jekyll in many ways, one being for trying to destroy him first and foremost but also Henny is just s o fucking weak, such a weak man with far too many anxieties, fears, etc- He’d be SO much better of a man if he’d simply let Hyde take control and STAY in control!

It’d make everything a lot easier, then Jek wouldn’t have to worry about ANYTHING ever again! No more of that pathetic nonsense! If it were possible, Hyde would absolutely l o v e to have his own body, separate from Jekyll, that way he could have his own life separate from that pathetic weakling’s! But… Even then, Jekyll and Hyde are one, in many ways they are absolutely apart of one another, two sides of the same coin, even with their MAJOR differences in personality and Hyde almost seeming like an entirely different entity just merely possessing Jekyll, after all, Hyde will admit it himself, he spawned from deep within Jekyll’s mind, he’s tried to get the other to see time and time again that he’s always been apart of the other deep down, Jek’s always had a more mad and evil side to him! Even if the other will deny this and take the denial to his grave, Hyde always persists in trying to get the other to see the truth in front of his eyes!

Aside from that tho, Hyde is just generally a dick and loves to mess with Jek and terrify him sometimes for literally no reason, hell he could be bored one day and decide “Hey Henny, fuck you, you suck” he loves to start drama, he loves to cause problems on purpose- Both of them would give anything to separate from each other, even if Hyde knows the truth deep down bout the both of them, even if he were always originally a part of Jekyll, it didn’t matter, that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to get his own body, away from that pathetic coward of a man!

| Side Facts: Jekyll rarely ever gets to relax or any free time, he’s too worried to give himself that in fear he’ll lose control, he’s almost CONSTANTLY fighting to keep control over the other, even though he knows it's physically impossible to do so, after all, he can’t stay awake forever, sure that doesn’t stop him from trying to stay awake as long as he can before his body practically forces him to pass out and he’s MUCH weaker than he used to be, I mean hell, given how long Jekyll seems to have been around, fighting SO much and almost EVERY single day has practically worn his body down but whenever there is an opportunity for any “free” time he usually spends it trying to figure out an antidote or a way to get rid of Hyde (I will say, before Hyde REALLY started doing bastardous n horrendous things, Jek would still get annoyed with him bc he was always that way but he actually, I’d say tolerated him more so than he does by now) and Hyde even- well, he still disliked Henry IMMENSELY so, but he definitely wasn’t as bad or as awful as he is to the other now, it was more so I tolerate you and we dont have to seriously fight or struggle with each other for control and back then Jek would even sometimes let Hyde have control.

But then… A serious incident (I wont name what exactly) but a serious incident that happened caused the two to absolutely despise each other (i didnt say up there, yes, Hyde absolutely despises Jekyll but there is some heavily hidden admiration in regards to the other’s determination, his persistence, and even somewhat of his creativity, Jekyll despite being an annoying nuisance in Hyde’s way, he does have some admirable things about him) but anyway- ever since that incident occurred, Jek has tried almost EVERYTHING he knew of to get rid of Hyde, even if separation from his body would still be bad bc that could mean Hyde would obtain his own body honestly? I believe Jekyll would still take that opportunity if he were given it, if he needed, he’d try and find someway to stop Hyde’s evil, maybe it’d be easier even if the other had his own body, he didn’t know, he just wishes he could be free from all this torment and agony like gosh damn give this man a b r e a k. Give him some fruit gummies and an appy juice carton and leave him be!

When Hyde is in control he wastes little time in finding things to do, being able to be out, to see the world, the world ripe for chaos and destruction, he wastes little time in getting straight to work with whatever his devious lil mind wants to think of- also for more monstrous purposes, back up there, I was p vague with the mention of teeth on his insides- p much teeth going down his throat and hell who knows, the bastard probably has teeth on the inside of his stomach at this rate- Another not so fun fact, this man can unhinge his jaw! Yaaay so u can see sharp teefs! ...He does have to kinda set his jaw back in place though bc god forbid Jek takes control then.

Smh imagine taking back control of your body only to have a fucking dislocated j a w wouldn’t that be hellish?

Hyde rarely ever does this for a few reasons- he only does it if he’s in the mood for just takin a big chomp outta someone (big chompy) just, just please- lock this thing away- or kill it, it's a menace to society and deserves nothing good- two more things btw, tbh I genuinely wasnt even considering inhuman features at first but ya know, I compromised- he has them he just chooses to hide them more often and speaking of, while Hyde says he’s always been apart of Jekyll (well this version I made anyway) that deep down their two sides of the same coin, can you really believe him? I mean, I’m not going to spoil it and tell ya anything in that regard, but who knows, who knows what Hyde REALLY is, whether or not he’s always been apart deep down inside of Jek or just some form of entity that spawned via that wonderful little formula.

And the final thing is, their voices are p much based on the musical ones' voices- Hyde’s is that deeper n raspier kinda voice while Jek’s is much softer and ya know POLITE sounding.

#my own versions #im not gonna tag them as OCs or anything like that #so they get an entirely different tag #jekyll and hyde #we have one himbo doctor who honestly shoulda known better smh and then we have one bastard #who needs to be put on a fucking leash

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theultimatefanficwriter · 5 years ago

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Tamer of My Heart-Gundham Tanaka x Reader

Requested by Crystie1234 on Wattpad

Trigger warning: Angst, abuse

You never fit in anywhere. At any school you went to you could never make any friends. You were always bullied and made an outcast. Your only solace was the animals that would flock to you. You always felt happier around them, as if you could speak to and understand them. This only led to more teasing, people calling you a 'Disney Princess' or saying that your only friends are animals.

Home life wasn't any better.

Your parents hated that you couldn't make friends, and only got angrier when they noticed you spending time with animals. They said they just wanted a 'normal daughter.' One that could make a single friend, and that wasn't spending time with 'those disgusting pests' everyday. But as the years went on, your love for animals never wavered, much to your parents' disappointment.

Soon they became violent.

You had been accepted into Hope's Peak as the Ultimate Animal Tamer. You tried to be happy, but your father's words were still ringing in your head.

"Oh, they let you in such a prestigious school for something as worthless as that? Hmph. At least you might possibly be useful for once."

You clutched your arms tightly before wincing and letting go. You looked down at your bruised arms before rolling your sleeves down. With a sigh you looked up at Hope's Peak Academy. Here you could get away from your family, and could hopefully make some friends.

Though you weren't holding your breath on that one.

You quietly filed into your classroom that would be part of your home for a long while. You glanced around and noticed you were the last to arrive. All of the desks were filled except for one beside a boy wearing a black coat and a long purple scarf. You noticed he had one grey eye and a red one, as well as a...a scar over his grey eye. You gulped as you slowly made your way to sit beside the intimidating student.

As you took your seat, he turned to look at you. His eyes narrowed as he inspected you, and you suddenly felt very small. "Hmph. Yet another weak mortal." The boy beside you scoffed, crossing his arms. "Is there not a single being of higher power here?"

You tilted your head in confusion, his speech going over your head. You opened your mouth to attempt to answer him when you noticed a small, furry head popping out of his scarf. Your eyes lit up as the hamster crawled up and out onto it's master's shoulder. "Oh, he's so cute!" You couldn't stop yourself from gushing.

The boy huffed at you. "Jum-P is not 'cute'! He is one of my fearsome Dark Devas of Destruction!" He pulled an extravagant pose. "He will assist me in taking over this mortal realm!"

You glanced at the boy before looking back at the hamster, a soft smile on your face. "So your name is Jum-P, huh?" You spoke to the animal quietly. "That's such a nice name! You sure are a wonderful little..." You scrunched your eyebrows and looked back at the pale skinned boy for a moment before returning your gaze. "Dark Deva, aren't you?" The tan hamster let out a happy little sound before scampering down his master's arm and hopping onto your hand.

"Jum-P!" The boy exclaimed in shock. He looked up to you with wide eyes. "Im-impossible! You managed to command one of my Devas to do your bidding!" He leaned forwards towards you, squinting his eyes. "You must be from the underworld! What rank of demon are you?"

You looked up from Jum-P, the smile on your face turning into a confused frown. "T-the underworld?" You repeated.

The boy nodded. "Of course! You speak the language of the hellbeasts! You are not a mere mortal after all!"

"I-I'm just really good with animals." You informed him quietly. "I'm the Ultimate Animal Tamer."

The strange student beside you grinned. "Ah, now I see! Yes, we are indeed from the same ilk!" He pulled another of those strange poses. "These mortals call me the Ultimate Breeder!"

Your eyes widened. Someone else with an animal related talent?! "Th-that's so cool!" You complimented him. "Oh, my name's Y/N L/N, by the way."

The breeder smirked. "You may call me Gundham Tanaka!" He held his hand out, allowing Jum-P to make his way back to him. "I do believe the two of us will make an unstoppable team, Lady Y/N."

You blushed slightly at being called Lady. "I...I think so too, Gundham." You smiled at him, the first genuine smile you had given another human in...forever.

Class went by rather quickly. It was just introductions, and you learned that your class was full of a number of...interesting people. Such as the princess of a foreign country, the head of the yakuza, a well known swords woman, a rather pervy chef, a mean dancer girl, and a very apologetic and clumsy nurse. At least you wouldn't get bored easily.

At the end of class, everyone packed up and went to leave, yourself included. However as you made your way to the door, someone stepped in front of you, blocking your path. You glanced up, and saw it was Gundham. "Oh, h-hi, Gundham." You greeted him meekly.

"Tamer of Hellbeasts." He returned the greeting. "I would like to request your company in my afternoon activities." He raised his scarf to cover his face slightly. "That is, of course, if you have no prior engagements."

You couldn't hide your surprised expression. Someone was actually asking you to hang out with them? "N-no, I don't have any plans." You told him. "Hanging out sounds fun."

The breeder smiled. "Excellent! Then let us be away!" With a flourish of his jacket, Gundham turned around and exited through the door. You couldn't help but smile as you watched him leave. You didn't know what it was about this flamboyant man, but he made you feel...safe.

You gathered your belongings and quickly followed him. "So, where are we going?" You asked as you rejoined him.

He had been leaning against the wall waiting for you. When you spoke to him, he pushed against the wall and turned to you, a grin on his face. "We shall be headed to the lair of a fierce phoenix I had discovered while traversing this plane with my Four Dark Devas of Destruction." Gundham told you.

You tilted your head. "A...phoenix?" You questioned.

The breeder nodded. "Yes, and a beautiful one at that. It appeared to be injured, and though I attempted to ease it's pain, it would not allow me to approach it, no matter what bonding spell I attempted to cast." He shook his head. "Truly a powerful beast indeed." Gundham turned to look at you, a small grin on his face. "That is why I was hoping that you would join me and use your wondrous ability of taming forbidden creatures to assist the fallen phoenix."

You smiled sweetly. "Of course, Gundham. I'd be glad to help you." You assured him. You still weren't sure exactly what animal you were agreeing to help him with, but if it was injured you wouldn't feel right leaving it on it's own.

The pale skinned man smiled brightly at you as he continued to lead you to your destination. "Thank you, benevolent dark tamer."

You felt your cheeks flush slightly as you continued to follow him. You had never had someone say such kind words to you before. You were used to people bullying you for your talent, not complimenting you on it. You watched Gundham as he strode ahead confidentially, a large smirk on his face as he opened the doors to the outside of the school.

He held them open for you, and waited until you left the building before closing them behind him. "After you, Dark Lady." He said with a smile before taking the lead once more.

It was only a few more minutes until the two of you came to a stop. Gundham had led you into the woods, and though that did put you a bit on edge since you barely knew this person, your unease quickly vanished when you noticed a falcon lying on the ground and nursing it's wing. You covered your mouth and slowly approached it. The falcon noticed you and raised it's uninjured wings at you threateningly, as well as screeching at you angrily.

"Hey, it's ok, little one." You assured the bird quietly. "We're just here to help." You looked to it's wing sadly. "Oh no, what happened to your wing? Can I help you?" You held a hand out as you slowly crept closer, crouch down a foot or two away from the falcon. "Please let me help."

The bird glared you down as it's eyes looked straight through you. Eventually, it lowered it's wing and slowly walked over to your hand. When it got within distance, you allowed it to brush it's head against you first before carefully petting it. "I'm going to touch your wing now, ok, buddy?" You warned the bird. "I promise I'm not trying to hurt you." You gently grabbed the hurt wing and spread it. You used your other hand and softly ran it across the wing. The falcon cried out and you released it. "I see." You said softly. You held your arm out and waited for the falcon to climb onto your arm before you stood. You inwardly sighed in relief that the bird managed to avoid your hidden bruises.

You turned to Gundham, who was staring at you in awe. "My, I knew your powers were great, but I could never have predicted you were as powerful as this!" He breathed out. He looked to the falcon and reached a hand out, causing the falcon to squawk angrily.

"No, it's alright! He's a friend!" You soothed it, petting its head gently. The bird glanced to you before looking back to Gundham. It calmed back down allowing the breeder to pet it as well.

"I am truly impressed with your skills, Dark Tamer." Gundham said, stepping back and grinning at you. "I had thought I was the master of all beasts, but you seem to be even stronger than I."

You once again felt yourself blush. "It's really not that impressive, Gundham. I'm sure you could've done the same thing if you kept at it."

The breeder frowned. "You doubt what I say?" He took a step towards you. "It is very rare I label another as more powerful than myself. I would not do so if I did not believe it to be true."

You chuckled nervously. "You've barely known me a day, Gundham." You pointed out. "There's no way you could know that much about me."

The dark god narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms as he looked you up and down. "Very well, then you leave me little choice." You looked up at him worriedly when he said that. "I must stay at your side and get to know you, so that you will have no excuse when I tell you how strong your abilities truly are."

You blinked. "Are...are you asking to be my...friend?" You asked quietly.

Gundham's face turned red and he pulled his scarf up. "I...yes. That is what I am requesting."

You stared at him as you processed his words. He...wanted to be your friend? Really? You smiled and nodded. "Of course, Gundham. I'd love to be your friend."

The breeder brightened up at your response. "Wonderful news!" His eyes went down to the falcon. "Now, could you tell what had befallen the phoenix?"

You nodded. "Yeah. His wing is broken. It'll need some time to heal." You informed him. "It should take less than a month."

Gundham nodded. "I see. Well, the beast should reside at your realm for it's resting period, of course. Even if you have made him ease at my presence, I do believe you are the right one to care for him."

You nodded. "I can do that. Hope's Peak probably has the right tools I need. I can just bring them to my room." You glanced up to Gundham. "But...you'll help me with him, right?"

The god of ice smirked and nodded, pulling another pose. "But of course! What type of Dark Prince would I be if I left such a powerful demoness alone on this mission!?"

You shook your head. "I told you, I'm not powerful." You muttered.

Your new friend sighed. "Very well. I shall refrain from such comments for the time." He turned on his heel and began to retrace his steps back to Hope's Peak. You followed, the falcon continuing to perch on your arm.

You got the necessary equipment from the academy and set everything up to help Silv-R, as Gundham had started to call the falcon, heal. The two of you worked on this little 'project' for three weeks, and continued to grow closer.

And you felt yourself falling for the flamboyant breeder.

Finally it was the day to release Silv-R, and you were both saddened at this fact. You and Gundham stood in the same spot you had found the falcon, looking sadly at the bird as he stood perched on your arm once again.

"It is a sad day today, Tamer of Hellbeasts." Gundham said solemnly.

You nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it is." You muttered, giving the falcon a pet on the head. "But keeping a found falcon as a pet is illegal in Japan. We gotta let him go."

Your friend sighed sadly. "Very well. Let us get this over with then."

You smiled sadly as you looked at Silv-R. You held your arm up. "You can go now, Silv-R. Go home, buddy!" The falcon hesitated at first, giving you a look. But eventually he flapped his wings and took flight. He squawked at you and Gundham as he flew a circle around your heads once before flying off into the trees. You sighed sadly and hung your head. You've treated and released animals before, but every time it hurt. You always got attached too quickly.

Suddenly you felt a hand gently intertwine with your own. You glanced over and saw Gundham looking away from you, hiding under his scarf. "G-Gundham!" You stammered in surprise. "Your...poisoned skin!" Gundham had gone on multiple times how he could never touch a mortal due to his poisoned blood. If he did, they would turn to ash.

"Y-you are not a mere mortal." He muttered. "Your power is more than efficient to keep yourself safe from my poisoned veins, as is evident from the fact you are still standing."

You felt your cheeks heat up, as they always did around Gundham. "B-but why are you holding my hand?"

He cleared his throat. "You seemed distressed due to the departure of Silv-R. So I was...attempting to comfort you." He looked down at your still held hands. "You have yet to pull away, so I assume this did in fact...comfort you?"

You paused for a moment before nodding. "Y-yeah. Thank you...Gundham."

The two of you stood there in awkward silence until he finally turned, pulling his hand from yours. "We should return." He stated. He glanced back at you. "If you wish, would you like to come to my realm? Just to, as the mortals say, 'hang out'."

You nodded, smiling softly. "Yeah. That sounds fun, Gundham." He nodded in return as he led you to his room.

The two of you got there with no issue. He placed his hamsters into their cage before sitting on his bed. You stood in the middle of his awkwardly for a moment before he chuckled. "Do not be afraid, Dark Lady." He told you, giving one of his signature grins. He pat the bed beside him. "Here, sit beside me." You looked at him for a minute before nodding and slowly doing so. The air was filled with an awkward silence for a while until Gundham broke it. "I have a confession to make, Dark Tamer." He began, glancing at you. "I may not have been completely truthful with my reasons for asking you here."

You looked up at him. "Oh? There's a reason other then hanging out?" You asked him.

He nodded. "Indeed. You see, Tamer of Hellbeasts, I have noticed something about you that I cannot help but compare to myself." He glanced down at your arms, which were covered by your long sleeves. "You and I both hide away a secret from the world."

You narrowed your brow in confusion until Gundham lifted his arms up, reminding you of the ever present bandages around his arms. "O-oh. It's nothing, Gundham. I just really like long sleeved shirts."

The breeder narrowed his eyes. "Forgive me for doubting you, demoness, but I find that hard to believe. The weather is most humid, and I have indeed noticed your perspiration during our training classes. Surely if the heat is bothering someone to such a degree they would remove such cumbersome garments, yes?" He looked you in the eyes, his own soft. "Then why do you not?"

You bit your lip, and you crossed your arms, gripping them lightly. "I...I don't want to talk about it, Gundham." You whispered.

Gundham looked like he wanted to insist, but he sighed. "Very well. I will not pursue this topic further."

You smiled at him gratefully. "Thank you."

The animal lover nodded before silence filled the room once more for a short while. "There was...one last reason for my invitation." He said quietly.

You raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. "Another? You don't need so many reasons to hang out with me, Gundham." You joked, already feeling better. Gundham just had that effect on you.

The dark overlord chuckled. "Well there has been quite a lot of things on my mind as of late." Gundham's face suddenly turned a light shade of pink, and he pulled his scarf up as he turned his face away from you. "Or, more accurately, a singular subject has been continuously returning itself to my thoughts."

You tilted your head. "And what is that?" You asked. "Is everything alright?"

He nodded, his cheeks turning red now. "Yes, I am well. However I do believe someone has cast a hex upon me."

You giggled to yourself. You found Gundham's way of speaking adorable. "What type of hex, Gundham?"

The breeder cleared his throat. "A...a love curse."

You were silent for a moment. Why did you feel a sudden pain in your heart. "A...love curse?" You repeated. When he nodded, you continued. "Do you know who...cast it?"

He nodded again. "I am most certain I know the culprit." He took a deep breath as he pulled his scarf down and turned to look at you. His face was a dark red at this point. "I...I believe it was you, dearest tamer."

Your eyes widened. "Wh-what?" You stammered. "You...are you saying you have...a crush on me?"

Gundham nodded, his face still beet red. "I-indeed." He muttered. "I have felt myself falling deeper into this curse every second I am around you." He looked you in the eyes, and your breath hitched when you saw the amount of care that was in them. "No other being has ever shown the same amount of passion in beasts as I have, and the amount you have very nearly surpasses my own. Not to mention you do not find my...abnormalities off-putting. You do not ostracize or look down upon me for my mannerisms. Instead, you encourage me. I have never felt more comfortable around another then I do when around you."

As the breeder spoke, you just stared at him, your eyes still wide. Was this really true? Did someone actually have a crush on you? Did Gundham have a crush on you?! You knew you yourself had begun to fall for him. You found him extremely cute, both in appearances and in the way he acted. And having another animal lover made you really happy. But...how could he like you back.

No. It had to be a trick. Nobody liked you. Nobody could possibly like you, especially not someone you have a crush on.

You shook your head frantically at Gundham. "Stop. Please, just stop." You begged. "I...I don't know who put you up to this, but please, stop. I know you don't actually like me, so please. Don't."

Gundham's eyes narrowed in confusion. "I beg your pardon, Dark Tamer, but I do not understand. The words I speak are the truth, not lies or some petty mortal dare." He reached a hand out for your own. "I truly care deeply for you."

You jerked away from him, scooting further down the bed. You shook your head harder. "No. No you don't! No one does. No one ever could, let alone you!"

The pale skinned boy blinked at that. "What do you mean by that, Y/N?" He questioned.

You pulled at your hair. "I should have known from the start this was a setup. Some stupid dare. No one has ever been my friend before, so why would you have wanted to be? And now that I've grown close to you and formed a crush on you, you tell me you like me back?" Your hands went back to your arms. "No. It's a trick."

Gundham's eyes widened this time at your confession. "You...you return my affections?!"

You opened your mouth to respond as you gripped your arms tighter, but all that came out was a pained yelp. You inwardly cursed. You thought the bruises would have faded by now, but some of the particularly nasty ones were still pretty apparent. Your head quickly shot over to Gundham, who was looking at your arms. "I...I-"

"I demand to see your arms."

You bit your lip and shook your head. "N-no. It's nothing, Gundham, really-"

"Silence!" The breeder growled, causing you to jump. He had never taken such a threatening tone with you, and it caused you to stiffen, bringing back memories of your home life. Gundham moved closer to you as he reached for your arms. You couldn't resist, frozen still from the terrible memories. Gundham gently grabbed your right arms and carefully rolled your sleeve up. You closed your eyes tightly as he did so, so you didn't see his reaction, only heard the soft gasp. Then you felt him grab your other arm and roll that sleeve up as well. This time you heard a growl, and him mutter "I will destroy the fiend who dare do this to you."

You felt tears begin to well up in your still closed eyes, so you turned you head away. You let out a soft whimper, trying your hardest not to cry. Suddenly you felt a hand on your cheek, gently turning your face back around. You opened your eyes, and saw Gundham staring intently into your eyes, a serious expression on his face. "I-I'm sorry-" You began, but were cut off by him smashing his lips against yours.

You squeaked in surprise, barely having time to respond before he pulled away. "Silence." He repeated, this time in a more gentle tone. "You have no reason to apologize, dearest one." He ran the hand not cupping your cheek through your hair. "Tell me, who is the fool who dared to harm you?"

You shook your head. "I-I can't tell you." You whispered. "It...it's not a big deal, anyway."

"It most certainly is a 'big deal'!" The breeder exclaimed. "Someone has been inflicting pain upon you! I must know who it is that I must send to the Nine Hells of Pandemonium!"

Your eyes widened and you shook your head quickly. "N-no! You can't hurt them!"

Gundham narrowed his eyes. "So it is not one individual, but multiple." He mused. "And from your pleas it can be assumed they are beings you have been groomed to trust." He was quiet for a moment before snarling. "Is it safe to assume the ones who assault you are none other than your own parents?"

You flinched, before slowly nodding. "But they only do it so I know how useless both me and my talent are, and that I can't do anything right. They don't want me to get my hopes up." You pulled away from Gundham. "Which is how I know you don't actually care about me. There's no way you could. I'm worthless."

Gundham stared at you with wide eyes as you spoke. He was completely speechless. "Y/N..." He whispered, looking up to your eyes. "That isn't true. You aren't worthless." Your eyes shot open wide as well when you noticed Gundham wasn't speaking in his usual way. He'd been doing it since you met, so you had honestly been starting to think it was something he couldn't help. Your thoughts were interrupted as he continued. "You are the most amazing, talented, and beautiful girl I have ever seen. Honest. Watching you play with my hamsters, and seeing how you handled the falcon...it made me so happy. My heart fluttered seeing someone else care so deeply for animals. And you are so kind. Other people make fun of the way I usually talk, or avoid me because of it. But you play along. You don't mind." He smiled up at you. "I am being completely sincere when I say this. I really like you. I think I may even love you."

You felt your heart melt at his words, tears begin to slowly fall from your eyes. "But...but my parents said-"

"Your parents are wrong." Gundham cut you off. "I don't know why they treat you like that, but they shouldn't. It's wrong, and you don't deserve it. You deserve love and care." He gently cupped your face again and moved his face closer to yours. "I want to be the one to give it to you."

Your heart beat wildly in your chest. You so desperately wanted to believe Gundham's words. You wanted to believe you were worthy of love, that someone could love you. That Gundham loved you. "How do I know you're telling the truth?" You whispered, your hands slowly reaching up to cling to his scarf. "How do I know you aren't lying to me for a joke or for a dare?"

Gundham smiled lovingly as he leaned even closer to you. "Allow me to prove it to you." He murmured before connecting your lips again in a soft and sweet kiss. He placed a hand on your hip and gently pulled you closer to him before wrapping that arm around you, trapping you protectively against his chest.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you melted into the kiss, your hands gripping his scarf tighter. You whimpered softly into the kiss as he deepened the kiss, lightly nibbling on your lip. Eventually he pulled apart, allowing you both to breathe. As you caught your breath, you placed your arms around Gundham's neck and buried your head into his neck allowing your tears to flow freely now. "I...I love you so much, Gundham!" You cried out. "I always feel so safe around you, I was just so scared it was a lie. I was scared to trust you."

Gundham smiled softly as he rubbed your back, placing a light kiss on your forehead. "My goddess, believe me when I say this." You giggled as Gundham spoke with his normal mannerisms. He gently took your chin in his and lifted it up. "I will forever keep you safe. No one will ever harm you again as long as I am on this mortal plane. Am I understood?"

You smiled up at him and nodded. "Yes, Gundham." You answered.

He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "You are the most exquisite being to ever grace this world. No mortal could ever dream of coming close."

You blushed as you leaned up and kissed him. "Thank you, Gundham." You whispered. "For everything."

The overlord chuckled and brushed your cheek with the back of his hand. "No need to thank me, my princess. I would gladly traverse the Nine Hells if it meant your happiness would be assured."

You smiled widely at his comment, and for the first time in forever, you believed someone genuinely loved you.

#danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa gundham #gundham tanaka #reader #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #request #angst

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kpopcotton · 5 years ago

Text

Simply Soft ~ NCT 127 ver.

a/n ~ here is the final version of simply soft.. i hope you like it!!

• Prompt: johnny. just johnny. • Genre: platonic fluff, bullet point scenario, nct member!reader • Warning(s): strong desire to be a part of nct • Reader Gender: gender-neutral

==≎==

Taeil

ok google, what does soft mean?

never have you seen taeil so whipped for someone

always supporting you and looking at you with the biggest heart eyes

haechan pretends to get jealous and petty whenever taeil shows you more attention than him

you have competitions sometimes

but besides that,

you show taeil so much love and he has so much to give in return

he’s not the best at expressing his love, but you know he cares through the little things

like when he cleans up after you

or gives you firm hugs that last tens of minutes at a time when you aren’t feeling the best

or lets you rest in his bed if you fall asleep during the haechan movie nights you crash

he finds you so precious and never wants to see you sad

his favorite time to hang out with you is right after the two of you get home from a busy day

doesn’t matter what you both did, he’ll make sure to find you at the dorms

most of the time he just gives you the look which means he’s picked out some snacks and is ready when you are

to him, there is nothing better than taking a shower and then inviting you to put on face masks and dance to music

lets you pick the playlist

but, he’s very picky about what kind of music it is

either gives you one of his hoodies or steals one of yours

you both get comfy clothes on

and then apply skincare before picking a face mask and putting them on each other

lots of cute selfies that will never be shared but always treasured

in conclusion, taeil loves relaxing with you

“oh! oh, this is the song! quick, come dance!”

==≎==

Johnny

are you ready for another...

johnny’s communication center?

probably not

you’ve only gotten to appear in one of johnny’s youtube videos which was like a 40-second debut

rip y/n

however, contrary to popular belief, you do spend time with him

he’s like the best big brother in the world, even if he’s younger than you

brings you to clothing stores, coffee shops, bookstores, ikea

any place you can buy things really

his favorite places to go with you are clothing stores

forces you to try on clothes that are in his style just to see how they look on you

whines when you try to get him to wear your style of clothing

says your fashion sense is terrible and sad

but wears the clothes anyway to see your reaction

loves seeing you smile

sometimes you go through johnny’s fashion evaluation

either horrendous combinations or luxury styles

there is no in-between

in the case of horrendous combinations (which happened at a thrift store in chicago):

he had you put on a sparkly rainbow bikini top that left little to the imagination, khakis, a lumberjack flannel around your neck, a bandana around your head, sunglasses that had to be at the tip of your nose, and thigh-high, high heeled boots

you had never felt more out of place and uncomfortable in your life

but johnny loved it every second of it

you made sure to get him back though

you gave him a neon blue lacy bralette, a puke green and brown sweater that you forced him to tie into a crop top, jean shorts that were too short with leggings underneath, knee-high socks with laces pulled over the leggings, and strappy sandals

he pretended to model the outfit for you confidently but his bright red neck and cheeks gave it away that he was embarrassed

in the case of luxury items (which was in some uptown, expensive store in japan):

johnny somehow managed to pick out an outfit that accentuated all of your best features with a color that made you feel confident and sexy

you felt you had never looked better

you returned the favor of course and gave him a suit that was definitely a perfect fit and it was obviously red because when does johnny not look good in red

“damn, y/n, look at us! we are the visuals of nct no doubt!”

==≎==

Taeyong

duality.

never have you seen a more confusing duo in kpop history

aeygo to the maxxxx

charisma to that maxxxx

it’s like a metronome how fast you two change when you’re together

the power.

neither soft stans nor hard stans can handle it

the twitter timeline is a dangerous place

fans could be cooing at you both and having heart pains while commenting about how babie you two are

but then die because the next picture is you in all black with a harness doing a questionably 18+ pose with taeyong who’s probably got his signature crop top on

n e ways, let us move on

taeyong adores you so much and it honestly makes him so flustered when you spend time with him

he loves, loves, loves when you take him out

he doesn’t leave the dorm much unless it’s for work

invite him to join you anywhere and he’ll instantly agree with so much enthusiasm, it’ll make you want to give him the world (though he deserves it)

he enjoys the little things

like walking down the street and bumping shoulders every so often while you guys talk about your days

or holding hands while crossing the street to make sure the other is safe

if you go somewhere to eat and offer a bite to him, he’ll melt

do anything for him and he’ll melt, really

one time you held the door for him and he had heart eyes the rest of the night

another time, you complimented his taste in fashion while you took a few pictures of him for instagram and he couldn’t stop smiling

how can he be so precious?

always tries to impress you with a surprise while you are out

he might spoil his new solo track or pay for a meal if you stop anywhere to eat, but that’s when he’s feeling extra

one time he surprised you with a tight hug and a genuine thank you that actually made you cry

“baby, please... spend some time.. with me?”

==≎==

Yuta

you and yuta are like two peas in a pod

like peanut butter and jelly

like strawberries and chocolate

like french fries and burgers

like fish and chips

sorry, i’ll stop with food pairs im kinda hungry right now

anyways, you get it

yuta feels lost when you aren’t around. you are his best friend, his other half (winwin who?)

yuta without you just feels... wrong

nct’s instragram is full of the pictures you guys take when you go on adventures together, which is very often

it’s his favorite thing to do with you; traveling and exploring

you pull up a map on your phone and go buck wild

you’ve both found some pretty cool places and some amazing views

you found a hidden cove somewhere off the coast in california but you guys got in trouble later that day because no one could find you

turns out you guys had wandered a lot farther than you thought

the pictures you showed the group made up for it

they were gorgeous candids of the both of you, laughing and smiling together

one was a timed one where you were both jumping

all of these photos and videos were posted to instagram which made a lot of people happy just to see yuta and you so happy in your elements

sometimes, you guys force mark to join you which takes some convincing because you two are always trouble

mark wouldn’t admit it in a million years, but those moments he shares with the two of you are where he has the most fun

he never knew two people could love each other platonically as much as the two of you do

however, he wants to barf whenever you guys call each other sappy pet names because, ew, third wheeling

“where should we go today, honey?”

==≎==

Doyoung

my birthday twin, let’s get it

how do i even begin to explain how much this boy cares?

you are the third member on his “favorite member” list

now, don’t get petty when he says you’re third

the story of how you got demoted from first is a bit funny in hindsight, jeno (who’s in first) takes the liberty of making fun of you for it whenever you hang out

jungwoo (who owns second) always tries to stand up for you though

you were messing around with taeyong on top of a set-piece while shooting a music video

doyoung had scolded you and told you to stop or else you would get hurt

you decided to laugh off his warning because you “weren’t that clumsy”

turns out you were

taeyong did something cool (when does he not?) and you wanted to try it, so after he told you how to do it a few times, you did

you fell

not very far, only a couple feet, but you landed on your back

the sound was so loud that it startled everyone

doyoung had a heart attack

he thought you died

you had the wind knocked out of you and your back was a little sore, but other than that you were fine

at least ten people swarmed you

including taeyong who was apologizing like crazy

doyoung was right there, lifting you up and already giving you an earful about how he told you to be cautious

once people were sure you were fine and didn’t have a concussion, they left you alone

doyoung doesn’t like much physical affection, but he’ll put that aside to smother you against his chest and harshly reprimand you

he’s a mom friend and will always be

will never tell you, but he prizes the moments when you get sick or hurt

sounds sadistic, and maybe it is, but he loves when you are a helpless baby and he has to take care of you

always scolding you for compromising your health, but doesn’t stop pampering you

tells the other members off when they try to help him

makes you soup when you are sick and gets you anything you ask for without complaint

if you get hurt, he’s right there with some form of first aid

and since i know you’re wondering: yes, he will cuddle you if you ask.

“come to me when you need help, you dumb baby.”

==≎==

Jaehyun

jung jaehyun is the definition of boyfriend material

when you two get together, the aesthetic blogs pale in comparison

everything the two of you do together is an aesthetic, really

golden hour selfies on rooftops where your skin glows and your eyes look the most beautiful

candids on the streets of the city where you're illuminated by the street signs

coffee shop pictures where you look so perfectly in your element sipping coffee and looking out the window

snapshots of “date nights” where you stay in to watch movies or kdramas with popcorn, candy, and a bottle of wine

couple’s outfits where you pose like models while someone takes your photo

you guys do it all

honestly, the biggest ship in all of nct is you and jaehyun

fanfiction writers are jealous no doubt because how the hell can the two of you live out their writings so flawlessly

some people use the pictures the two of you take as templates for their mood boards or “nct as boyfriends” projects

you both probably started a vlog series on the nct youtube account

however, the time you guys spend together is strictly platonic, no matter how badly people want you two to “just date”

neither of you tries anything romantic because blegh, disgusting, i’ve known this person for so long they are literally my best friend, my sibling, a family member i’ve never had but always wanted

sure, jaehyun’s ears turn red whenever you guys dress up in similar outfits but it’s because of people’s reactions

if you see a picture with jaehyun shy next to you, it’s probably because johnny is screaming behind the scenes about how good the two of you look

speaking of johnny, he’s the hype man

also, sort of, maybe, kinda the reason you guys do so much aesthetic stuff

he says you guys are too good looking not to “bless the world with your visuals”

to sum this up, jaehyun treasures you and does the most with you

“what are you wearing today? we should match since it’s our friend-iversary!”

==≎==

WinWin

see wayv ver.

==≎==

Jungwoo

i love him with all my heart and i really miss him right now

it’s real soft hours up in here

not a single moment where you aren’t giving each other all the love you can muster

big comfy sweaters with sweater paws

love confessions every hour

always telling you he loves you and that you are his

treats you like royalty while also babying you into next week

he’s honestly the sweetest person on the planet and he can’t handle himself around you because dang, you really be out here existing and stuff

looking that good

since he’s so affectionate, i see him cuddling you like there’s no tomorrow

will build a pillow fort for you

honestly, he will do anything for you as long as you say please

not afraid to kiss you either. don’t matter where or when, he’s ready

some would say it’s his favorite thing to do

your cheek looking extra squishy that day? his lips have claimed that territory

your forehead exposed? kiss.

your neck easily accessible? smooch.

your hand in his? peck.

your lips in a pout? he better hold himself back because he’s about ready to risk it all just to give you a kith

the other members try not to seem too surprised every time you accept his lips on your skin

they freak out whenever it happens to them, or get super flustered

they don’t know how you handle his affection so well

you say it’s a talent when they ask you

a.k.a. you treasure all the affection he gives you because he is literally the best boy and you would die for him

he worships you on the daily (lucky)

he says his heart beats irregularly whenever you are around because he loves you that much

it was actually scientifically proven during a tv show when you had to make other members’ heart rates fluctuate with aegyo

you hadn’t started doing anything yet, but just by looking at you his heart did a boom boom and everyone freaked out

holds the title of the member with the best hair second-biggest ship in all of nct and of course, it’s with you

fans have so many videos of jungwoo hanging off of you and being clingy

always talking about you like you put the stars in the sky

you know that video when jungwoo was giving mark “the look”? it’s like that with you but at least ten times worse and all the time because you are his baby, his world, his favorite member

always has to comment about what you two did that day

never ever forgets to talk about how much he cares about you

“yeah, y/n and i are close. i love them with all my heart. they are perfect!”

==≎==

Mark

see dreamies ver

==≎==

Haechan

see dreamies ver

157 notes · View notes

varian-the-unstable-alchemist · 4 years ago

Text

Dont ask for context. I just wanted to post this so its in one place to share-

Regular text was written by me, and italicized text was written by @purple-steven ‘s mun

---

Varian groaned, his mouth was dry and it felt as though his head was splitting open. He went to rub his eyes before he realized.... right. He was tied to a chair. At least it was a chair this time. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was better than being hung from the ceiling by his wrists, which was what he had woken up to last time. He didn't try to struggle. He knew it wouldn't help. He held his eyes closed, mentally assessing his body. He was mildly disappointed to find he still only had on a thin tank top that was far too big for him, the same worn trousers, and a small tight-fitting metal collar. Everything else had been taken from him. His gloves, his boots, his goggles, even his binder. Gone. He didn't know how long he's been here, but by how long his once sleek, but now matted and tangled hair had grown he could tell it had been at least two months. Anger had long since bled into despair and he held little hopes that he would ever be released. That he would ever see his friends again. His brothers and sister. He should just forget them, he wasn't going to see them again. He only hoped they weren't still looking for him.

Everything ached, but the lack of open wounds was proof enough that he had died again. After a few moments of deep breaths, which felt like he was inhaling shards of glass, he opened his eyes. He was met with the same dark stone room that his eyes had long since become accustomed to the light level of. Andrew was sitting in the corner of the room. His emerald eyes shining in the darkness. a smile slipped onto his face when he saw the ravenette was awake. Varian had no energy to react at all, so he just gazed at him with empty eyes. Eyes that had been glazed over with hopelessness since he realized there was nothing he could do or say to make Andrew let him go.

"Good morning sleeping beauty" Andrew whispered as he steadily made his way towards the bound alchemist. Time had no meaning anymore. It could be morning, it could be night, he didn't know.

"What should we do with you today?" Andrew continued when Varian gave no reaction. "Maybe I could give you a treat and take you outside...? Leaving you in the ocean to drown a couple times could be fun..."

Varian knew Andrew was only playing with him. He already knew exactly what he was going to do with him. He always did. Andrew reached up and took his face in his palm with a gentleness that didn't fit the situation. Varian instinctively tensed at his touch but resisted the urge to jerk away, knowing it would only result in pain. "I think we're going to do something a little different today... Im sure you miss your friends, right?"

Varian didnt respond, but he repressed a whimper of pain as Andrew's grip started to tighten.

"Right?"

" ...y-yes..." Varian rasped.

Andrew smirked, releasing him and starting to walk towards the door on the far side of the room. "Well, how about we send them a message?"

Varian looked after him and he entered it and came out with a video camera. Varian's breath caught as he started setting it up in front of him and he realized what he was planning, a look of fear breaking through the wall that had been built to protect himself. The video camera was old, the kind that used a VHS tape. Well, to him it was new, as he was from the past, but it was old compared to the kind of technology this current time period has. He shook himself out of that train of thought. He needed to get himself out of the habit of analyzing everything he sees. Alarms went off in his head as soon as Andrew turned it on, setting it on top of something that was about on his head level.

---

There was a package left outside the library. Nothing special, just a brown cardboard box with a red ribbon wrapped around it. There didnt seem to be anyone around, and it was probably left there sometime that night

Lav was still searching for Varian, he's so worried, he hasn't been able to catch any leads or anything... He hasn't even been sleeping well, he was going out for fresh air. But he noticed the package. He grabbed it, opening it quickly, he's got a bad feeling. Mysterious packaging is always a bad sign.

Inside was a folded piece of blue clothing, after further inspection, it was obvious that this was varian's hoodie. It was ripped in places and bloodstained. Underneath the hoodie was what looked like a cassette tape, where there's supposed to be a label, there was just a smiley face that looked like it had been drawn with blood by a finger.

Lav was... Staring at it, shaking, racing to the living room and pushing in the tape, turning it on. He needed to know what had happened, he needed to know where they were.

The video started, and a dark room flickered into view. In the center was Varian, tied to a wooden chair with thick ropes that look old and worn. He was pale and dangerously thin, his once beautiful blue eyes were clouded over and he was trembling visibly, despite the low quality of the recording. He was wearing a black collar around his neck, there were dark purple bruises blossoming on his wrists where he was tied too tight than necessary and his hair was quite a bit longer and hung in clumps around his face. The tank top he was wearing was thin and far too big for him. He looked cold. He gazed at the camera with a look of despair and fear, tears starting to form in the corner of his eyes.

Lav was shocked at the sight, he wasn't sure how to react. He was mad, he was sad, he was feeling the weight of guilt. He had let this happen. He had died, and he didn't stop Andrew. He was close to the TV, far too close than he should've been, and he was scared. Scared for what was to come.

"Something wrong?" Someone out of frame asked, and varian's eyes flicked from the camera to a point slightly above and to the left. "I thought you would be happy to be given a chance to talk to your friends again... hmm... that reminds me. who should I give this to? What about the hybrid you call your "older brother"? I bet he would love a chance to hear from you again..." It was obvious that whoever it was was smirking, just from his tone.

Varian opened his mouth for a moment before he hoarsely whispered, "...lav..." at a volume so low it was only barely picked up on the tape, his eyes going out of focus for a moment.

"VARIAN!" He was shouting, banging at the TV. God, what was he doing? He knew he couldn't get to him, he was too late, he needed to search for something, anything that would help him get there. But he couldn't look away from the sight. He felt sick, watching what he felt was a younger brother of his being this bruised and battered. He wanted to help. He needed to help, he's let this happen for so long...

The voice chuckled and stepped into view, walking over to stand sightly to the side and behind varian. He was immediately recognizable as Andrew. He twirled a dagger between his fingers as varian started at the camera in fear, frozen, not knowing what to do. Andrew leaned down next to varian's ear at the same time he raised the dagger to varian's neck, pressing the cold blade against his pale skin and whispering just loud enough for it to pick up on tape.

"Nothing to say? Not even a hello? Come now, dont be rude...."

Varian visibly swallowed before repressing a sob and choking out, ".. H-hello lav..." His voice was raspy and hoarse.

Lav was shaking the TV, unaware of the tears that were streaming down his face, coughing with the tears choking him. He could only watch, trembling with anger towards Andrew.

Andrew smiled in satisfaction and drew the knife away. Only to drive it into the flesh on his right lower arm, smiling wider as varian let out a strangled scream, tears streaming down his face as he instinctively tried to jerk away. Anderw gripped his upper right arm in one hand and his jaw with the other, forcing him to look at the camera. "Go on, ask for help. Beg for him to find you, tell him where you are so he can come to your rescue. You know this is the only way he'll hear you. I'll reward you with a quick death this time...."

"Varian, please, hang on, please... Tell me, tell me..." Lav was desperate, looking at him in the eye, trembling more the more he stared. He could see the pain in his eyes, he could see the tears well up, he let this happen...

Varian was trembling harder now, the dagger still protruding from his arm and the hopelessness and despair visible in his eyes. He closed his eyes and shook his head to the best of his ability, but cried out again when Andrew tightened his grip. Starting to yell what andrew wanted, just for a bit of relief "aAAAAHH! I-I dont know where I am! L-Lav.. im scared..." he choked on his words. "p-please.. p-please help me, please I-"

Andrew drew the knife out of his arm and plunged the bloody dagger into varian's gut. Varian's eyes widened for a few seconds before he gagged, doubling over in pain as tears streaked down his face, his body shaking feebly. Blood dripped from his mouth as he looked up at the camera one last time with an expression of agony. "...l-lav... please... help me...."

Lav didn't know how, he didn't know, he had to find him. But there was nothing, only darkness and a chair, a bloody one too. He needed to find him, he had to do something, he needed to find him at any cost. And he needed to kill Andrew. He had to, otherwise he'd be doing this forever. He just stared, he felt overwhelmed with guilt and anger, his hands clenched in to fists as his eyes stayed fixated on the sight. God, he felt sick.

The broken alchemist let out one last sob before his energy drained and he slumped forward against the ropes. After a few seconds, his ragged breaths followed. Andrew slowly pulled the knife from varian's body, brushing his hair out of his eyes and smearing varian's blood on his face. He stepped towards the camera, obscuring varian from view.

"You wont find him. This I can guarantee" He whispered before the screen flickered to black.

Lav just... Stared. He's not sure what to feel. Andrew... god, he... he should've been stronger, he shouldn't have let this happen. Now, he had to make this right. It's his fault after all. He knew was he had to find him. No matter what it takes.

4 notes · View notes

crewhonk · 6 years ago

Text

Sunshine

Cop!Bucky X Reader

In which your best friend, Maria Rambeau goes into labour on your couch and the freeway has other plans to get you to the hospital

Warnings: Swearing, Traffic, labouring mother, fluff, cop!beefy!bucky, im suffering from intense baby fever this is pretty self indulgent, GREYS ANATOMY SPOILERS

Words: 3.5K

@nomadsgrogers i tagged you now you have to name yours and seb’s first daughter after me

Your knuckles were white with the grip you had on the steering wheels of your Jeep, the engine purring louder as you pressed your sneakered foot harder on the gas and passed several cars very illegally. You could feel the sweat beading at your temples and you heart pounding in your ears, blood rushing to them in a roar not loud enough to block out the screaming from your passenger side seat.

Maria Rambeau had come over to your house earlier that day— something not uncommon from one of your best friends, and you greeted her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek and a whispered hello to her swollen stomach. You, Maria and Carol, had served in the Airforce in your late teens and early twenties both you and Maria had left to pursue goals which were just a little closer to Earth. She had curled up on your couch, barely hiding her discomfort as you handed her an iced tea— made just the way she liked. She had just been about to lift the glass to her lips when there was a sound of rushing water and she doubled over, pain electrocuting her body so deep it felt like the marrow in her bones was frying.

You had immediately busted into action, quelling your tears of fear as you sprinted to your room for a change of clothes that may fit the very pregnant and soaked woman on your couch while yelling at her to time the spaces between her contractions.

So, you were in the jeep now, racing down the freeway and drumming your fingers over the steering wheel, shushing Maria as she tried once again to apologize for ruining your couch.

“Maria if you apologize once more I’m going to steal the birth certificate and change the name to dark roast coffee. Stop, I can get a new couch.” You bit, clenching your jaw as you swept back into the lane you were supposed to be. You thought you saw a flash of a middle finger but you genuinely couldn’t care less as the screaming woman in your car took precedence over all else.

“Did you call Carol, yet?” You asked, trying to attempt to take your friends mind off the pain rocketing through her body.

“Yeah, when you were in the bedroom. I think she screamed and swore and I’m pretty sure she said she was on her way to Brooklyn General. You know how she gets when she’s excited.” Maria smiled tiredly as the pressure lifted from her stomach. She sat back and patted the swell of her belly and looked down at it fondly. “You better calm down in there, soldier. Mama needs to get to the hospital before you meet her.”

“Yeah, and I already gotta get my couch replaced, I can’t afford to get the bloodstains out of the car.” You joked, winking over to Maria.

“I’m sorry!” She cried, laughing before gasping as the felt another contraction build in her stomach. Instead of replying you just laughed and pressed your foot harder to the gas.

___________________________

It was another five minutes of speeding down the highway when you merged onto the freeway and found yourself at your first problem.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god this is not normal!” Maria pressed her forehead against the dash and you looked over worriedly before placing your hand on her back and rubbing it in soothing circular motions.

“I’m pretty sure it is.” You hummed, noticing the there were a lot of red tail lights ahead and slowed down the jeep, flinching when you heard a low moan erupt from somewhere in Maria’s throat.

“Shut up yes it is.” She growled, biting her forearm to stifle her keens of pain. There was a moment of silence before the contraction passed and she looked over at you, eyes tired and regretful “Sorry for saying that.”

“Stop apologizing. You’re literally in labour. You could say anything and I wouldn’t be offended.” You hummed, brows furrowing as you tried to see if you could fit in the space between the cars and the blockade to see if you could bypass the traffic.

Nope.

“No, no, no. What is this traffic, are you kidding me?” Maria cried when she looked up. You pressed your lips together and pulled over as far to the side as possible. You clicked the seatbelt and looked at Maria very seriously.

“Do. Not. Leave. This car.” You said, pointing your finger in her face. Maria looked like she would like nothing more than to bite it clean off. Instead of giving your best friend the satisfaction, you opened the door and stepped out of the car.

“Y/N. Bitch! Where the fuck are you— OWWWW!” She keened and you hesitated to leave her alone. Instead of doing so, you kicked on a car door beside you and alerted the car of young adults to your presence. The driver smiled politely and turned down the music before rolling down the window and smiling.

“What’s up, Miss?” He was cute. Young, innocent, perfect for guarding a labouring soon-to-be mother.

“Y/N. Call me Y/N, please.” You dug in your bag and pulled out your wallet, giving them each as much cash as you could before asking them; “Would you mind watching my very best, labouring friend while I go and see if I can get us a ride to the hospital, please?” You begged. His eyes widened and he looked at his round friend and beautiful, but very nerdy friend before stuttering out an affirmation.

“Great, her name is Maria. I’ll be back in five minutes.” You rushed before beginning the short jog up to the front of the jam. There were a few police cars guarding the wreckage and you winced at the sight of crushed metal before running to the nearest cop car and leaning forward to rest your hand on your need and catching your breath.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” A grumbly voice sounded above you and you shot up, hands on your back and a tired smile on your face. All was very well until your eyes landed on his beautiful, gorgeous, almost offensive face. His hair was hidden with a combination of black police hat and bun, a light sprinkling of scruff on his strong jaw and crooked nose between two very intense eyes. There was a gap in his eyebrow due to a scar and his rough appearance had your knees weak.

“I— um. Yeah. I’m fine. How— how are you?” You tried to smirk and lean against the cruiser, remembering why you were there before straightening up.

“I’m fine?” He replied, a smirk on his face and eyes thoroughly amused. Sure, he had been flirted with on the job before, but not in this situation and most certainly not by someone who took his very breath away. “What can I help you with?”

Right.

“I— I have a friend back there and she is trying to stop herself from pushing a watermelon-sized human out of a space which is not watermelon sized.” You blushed as if you were in fifth grade and just hearing about the works of childbirth for the first time again. God, why did the first cop that helped her need to be a walking Adonis? A very, very amused Adonis. No way it was legal to wear a uniform that seemed to be ripping at the seams trying to keep muscles on muscles at bay.

“Jesus.” He swore, looking around and seeing that all of his coworkers were busy. “I— okay, where is she?”

_________________________

You and officer James “Bucky” Barnes, as you learned his name was, jogged back t your parked car, all three teenagers had since piled into the jeep and were trying their very best to quell the pain Maria felt shaking her to her very soul. The tiny kid looked as if he was going to explode if Maria squeezed his hand any tighter. At the sight of you, each teenager relaxed into their seats and smiled at you when you pulled open the passenger side door.

“Hey, soldier.” You smiled, wiping Maria’s curly bangs from her forehead. She looked up slowly, as if in a daze and offered you a weak smile.

“Did you know these kids are going to graduate top of their class at Midtown?” She hummed, looking back fondly at them. The pain was making her delirious and you blinked stupidly as you heard Maria’s giggles turn into a low moan of pain.

“Hey, Maria, shhh. You’re okay, you’re safe.” You pulled her head to rest in the crook of her neck and looked back at Officer Barnes who looked a little too pale to be normal. She clutched your sides, pulling your shirt up to dig her nails into the soft skin of your waist, crying low not the safe crook of your neck. He knew right now really wasn’t the best time, but he’d be damned if the sight of your waist covered in long, dark claw marks make some of the blood drain from his brain to his stomach.

Once the contraction passed, you pulled her chin so she would look at you and you spoke very slowly. The gentleness and care you showed for the people in your life made Bucky’s heart swell and he had to very much remind himself that he was, in fact, at work.

“This if Officer Barnes. He’s going to take us to the hospital, okay?” You hummed, staking her hair and smiling softly when she leaned into your touch. Seeing this side of Maira was rare, but you were living for every minute of it.

“M’kay.” You took her hand and helped her down from the car, the teens taking the hint and exiting the car, all but the small boy climbing into the old beater. Maria’s knees buckled once she tried to put weight on them, and Bucky acted swiftly, catching her and stopping her into his arms as if she weren’t a heavily pregnant woman, and, at the very most, just a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Fuck.

The boy walked to stand next to you as Officer Barnes began walking away, in the same state shock as you were right now.

“He’s like, a real-life Hollywood superhero, huh?” He muttered, patting you on the shoulder. You nodded before turning to him and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done today. You’re a good kid— whoever raised you did a bang-up job.” You smiled, and he flushed bright red, sheepishly looking down at his feet briefly before pulling his phone from his back pocket.

“I— would it be okay if I gave you my number? I just— I wanna know what happens.” You blinked before a wide smile spread across your face, handing him your own phone and waiting for him to give it back. When he did you looked at the name and smiled.

“I’m sure she’d love to see the brave young man that held her hand in the freeway, Peter. I’ll be in touch, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

_______________________

You had all piled into the cop car quickly, Officer Barnes going to inform his Captain that he was going to take two women to the hospital before helping you both into the hard plastic seats of the back. You buckled Maria in as she went through another contraction and nodded at Officer Barnes that he was good to go.

“You buckle up, too, Doll. Need you safe.” His gaze through the rearview mirror was intense and he didn’t miss the way you flushed pink at the nickname. He bookmarked that one to use again— there was no way he wouldn’t be seeing you after this day.

The car pulled out, sirens and lights blaring as Bucky pulled out of the middle of the freeway, engine roaring as he sped his way to the hospital bay doors. Maria's contraction subsided and she slimed over to you, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers together.

“You’re a real life genius, you know that? In another life, I’m pretty sure you were a superhero.” You rolled your eyes at her compliment and physical affection, smiling widely and letting your eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, meeting those same blue, intense eyes once more. He seemed to smile at MAria’s comment, agreeing with her.

“I cannot wait to tell the little baby that this is how she got her way to the hospital.” You laughed, placing your hand on her belly and rubbing. Maria hummed.

“She’ll be sick of it by the time we tell it at her graduation.” Maria laughed, and you heard Bucky let out an amused huff of air through his nose.

“And her wedding.”

“And her wedding.” She replied, eyes welling up with tears. “This is really happening, isn’t it?”

“You’re gonna be a mama.” You whispered, a new kind of excitement in your eyes.

“And you’re gonna be a godmother.” She replied, the same excitement lacing her tone. Bucky’s heart damn well swelled in the front seat at the interaction. There was a pause before Maria jut her chin in the officer's direction.

“I’m pretty close to revoking Sam’s title as Godfather and giving it to this guy. He’s the real hero of the day.” She smirked, winking at you and wiggling her eyebrows.

“I don’t think he or Riley would be too happy about that— you know how much they want a little one in their house.” You laughed, nudging her shoulder but keeping her close.

“Oh, I’m sure they can wait for the next one. I’m pretty sure I’m in a little bit love with this guy.” Maria smiled at the bashful laugh she pulled from the officer. The warm smile and flustered pink on his cheeks making his hard exterior nothing more than a soft teddy bear. Or a street mutt that everyone adores.

“Me too.” You agreed quietly, winking at the man and blushing when he wiggled his eyebrows. Before you could get caught in your own feelings once more, Maria began rocking back and forth, breathing heavily and clutching your shoulder tightly as another contraction ripped her in half.

Bucky pressed his foot harder on the gas.

____________________

The cop car careened into the ER bay, and a very familiar face runs out, worry deep get in his brow at the sight of two of his closest friends in the back of a cop car. Tony Stark meets the car as it stops, opening the door to see Maria Rambeau keening in pain and you with tired, worried eyes. He nods towards the familiar officer and pulls Maria from the car and into a wheelchair. Bruce runs outside at the sight of two familiar faces and immediately starts asking questions.

“What the hell happened?” He half-shouts, meeting you and looking back at Maria who is now surrounded but the best team of doctors. Helen Cho breaks through the crowd with a smile and a wink and immediately sweeps her up further into the hospital.

“She came over and went into labour all over my couch and then we got stuck in traffic and I managed to find this Officer to help us.” You rushed, eyes darting anxiously to see if you could see Maria or Carol or anyone at all. Bruce looks back at Officer Barnes and smiles, jutting out a hand for Barnes to shake.

“Thank you, Officer. Maria is one of our people, and you helping her and Y/N means more than you know.” Bucky blushed and smiled, stepping away and watching as Bruce turned to walk back into his ER.

“Thank you, for everything, Officer.” You say, voice quiet. The toll of the day has already made your shoulders slouch and your blinks slow, but you know you have so many more hours to go before baby is here. There was no way that you would be missing your Godbaby’s birth.

“Bucky. Please, it’s Bucky.” He smiled, leaning casually on his car and crossing his arms. You lick your lips at the sight of the bulging muscles, and he subtly flexes at your reaction to him.

“You tell all the girls to call you Bucky or somethin’?” You joke, swaying up on your tip toes and back down.

‘Only the pretty ones who care too much about their pregnant friends screaming in my backseat.” He said, his voice low and rumbly and making your core tighten. You flush and your eyes dart around the ambulance bay nervously before settling back on him.

“I uh— I should go. Make sure her wife is okay, and everything.” You say, voice sad and regretful and you relish in the way his shoulders drop in disappointment.

“Yeah, you should. I’ll see you around, though okay?” He asks, watching you start to back away to the sliding doors. You smirk.

“I’ll drive a little bit faster these days then. Maybe you can give me a ticket or somethin’.” You smile and he threw his head back to let out a roaring laugh that echoes against the buildings around you. God, what you would give to drown in that sound.

“I’ll be lookin’ forward to it, Doll.” His voice is low and you can feel your face heat up under his intense stare and nickname.

“Me too, Officer.”

_____________________

It’s almost six hours later when Monica Lawson Danvers-Rambeau is brought into the world, Carol on the left side of Maria and you on the right. Monica is six pounds, 9 ounces of pure squealing baby and she is immediately the centre of the group's lives. The first baby to be born in the friend group warrants a few life-altering feelings one would think.

It’s almost midnight, and you’re curled up in one of the armchairs pressed into the corner by the window, Monica asleep in your arms. Her eyelids flutter with her very first dream and your heart feels like it's going to explode with love when you let one gentle knuckle brush her cheek as light as a feather. You could have stared at her forever, and would have too if it wasn’t for the son knock from the open door only a few feet away.

Officer Barnes stands there, a grey sweater and dark jeans adorning his body, his hair loose and tucked behind his ears and he has a pair of sunglasses to keep the rest of the strands from falling into his face. There's a large, colourful bouquet of tulips and sunflowers and babies breath in his arms and you nod your head to the table beside the bed holding the sleeping wives. You stand and walk over to him, Monica making a tiny, squeaking noise in your arms before settling back in, nuzzling her face deeper into your chest. Bucky’s heart swells at the sight.

“How’re you?” He mumbles, eyes never leaving Monica. To think she was inside his car only a few hours ago trying to escape blew his mind. She was so quiet. So peaceful now.

“I’m the best I’ve been in a long time.” You replied honestly. Life had always given you a rough hand, but this-this made everything worth it.

“That’s great to hear.” He whispered, leaning against the doorframe. You turn your head to yawn and your eyes look impossibly heavy.

“This is little Monica. You probably saved her life, you know. You got us here safe and sound. Thank you, Officer Barnes.” You hum, smiling softly, and Bucky can feel his heart rate double in pace. He clenches his jaw nervously before looking at you hopefully. The sight of his puppy dog eyes peeking through his long, dark lashes has your knees weak.

“What d’you say I wait around for as long as you need and I drive you home. We can stop at some 24-hour diner and get coffee and breakfast— I haven’t eaten in a few hours and I would like to see you some more.”

You sucked in a breath through your nose and let it out of your mouth quickly. God, he really went for the kill, didn’t he? You’d be lying to yourself if you said coffee and a beautiful date didn’t sound like the best thing in the world right now.

“The nurses are due to check up on us in a few minutes if you want to wait? I don’t wanna just leave them.” You mumble, blushing, nervous gaze softening when you look at the little pink bundle in your arms.

“She loves you already.” He smiles, gently brushing one long, thick finger over the small tuft of curly hair. She looked so much like her mother.

You smile up at him— a smile of mischief and confidence. “Well, what’s not to love, huh?”

Buckys eyes flick up to your own and your breath catches at the intensity of his stare. His moist, plump lips are turned into a small smile when he says “I can’t find anything that anyone wouldn’t.”

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half-anidiot · 4 years ago

Text

if you wanna cry make sure they never see it

im pretty proud of this so im gonna post it

title taken from boys will be bugs by cavetown; isabelle and james belong to @chinchinashi

word count: 3,528

content warning - transphobia, dysphoria, manipulation, brief racism, implied child abuse

Kieran sighed as they pulled a tank top over their binder - layer number one for the day. She hadn’t even arrived yet and their stomach was already rolling, something akin to wasps angrily whipping around in their midsection. The feeling was too violent and fierce for the delicate touch of butterfly wings, but the heavy buzz and vibration of wasps’ furiously flapping wings as they zipped to and fro like tiny yellow bullets fit almost too well. A white button up that was donned slowly (as if the more Kieran dragged their feet the more time it would take for Her to get here) was layer number two. Kieran inhaled slowly in an attempt to quell both their nerves and the heat of rage that flowed through their veins before exhaling as they began to button the shirt. With shaky hands, they moved upward, trying to quiet the one very loud thought that thrummed through their mind:

She shouldn’t be anywhere near James.

A shudder shook through Kieran’s body as they reached the top button, leaving it undone as not to choke themself. After everything James had been through by Her hand, Kieran would rather eat bugs (yes you heard them right) than have to look Her in the eye and feign politeness. As they tugged a loose black sweatshirt over their head (layer three), Kieran allowed themself to indulge in a fantasy that involved Kieran decking Her before kicking Her out of their apartment. The image of James crying popped into their head and quickly crumbled the thought to dust that Kieran begrudgingly blew away.

Finally, after tugging on a pair of black jeans, they walked out of the room with a hand running down their face like it was trying to drain all of the swirling thoughts running frantically through Kieran’s brain with it. They traversed down the hallway, socked feet carefully avoiding the creaky floorboard right outside of the bedroom door. Kieran stopped in front of where a framed picture of James and Kieran at a carnival hung on the wall painted the lightest shade of grey. It was exploding with colors - cotton candy pink, the bright green of neon signs, and the bustling, blurred forms of walking people wearing purple, blue, and ketchup red. One of their friends had managed to catch the exact second James jumped onto Kieran’s back. A grin the size of Texas was painted across James’s features, and Kieran could practically hear the laugh echoing from the picture. Kieran, on the other hand, was trying to keep their snow cone from falling to the ground beneath them as their mouth hung open in surprise. It was the perfect picture, filled with happiness and excitement that even the snapshot conveyed perfectly.

A frown tilted the edges of Kieran’s mouth downwards.

Even just letting Her into the house felt like it would taint any joy that it contained.

“Kieran?”

They blinked out of the reverie they had wrapped themself into at James’s call of their name before continuing towards the living room. Kieran tucked their hands into their pockets as they reached the end of the hall, watching as James moved the jar that contained Fred, the evil little bugger, from where it usually rested on the living room coffee table. James looked up at their entrance, face breaking out into a smile.

“Hey, Kier,” he chirped happily, eyes twinkling with a golden glow, “Where do you think I should put Fred?”

Kieran’s nose wrinkled in distaste, scrunching up the freckles that were splattered across their face like paint. “I think he belongs in a fire, personally.”

James frowned, a pout pulling out his bottom lip and yanking at the strings of Kieran’s heart. As he carefully placed Fred’s jar on the small table (really more of a stool) that held the key bowl next to the entrance, he said, “That’s mean. Fred has done nothing to you.”

“He exists,” they muttered under their breath as they walked over to the beige couch and flopped down gracelessly. Kieran’s mind began whirring again, gears spinning as their thoughts went into overdrive about what could happen today.

James came over and threw himself into their lap, prompting Kieran to, without thinking really, pull their hands from the confines of their jeans and wrap around his smaller form to cradle him to their chest. James snuggled in comfortably, resting his cheek on their shoulder. “I can see you thinking, Kieran, but you don’t have to worry! What could possibly go wrong?”

Kieran frowned, fighting back the sharp words that longed to claw themselves up and out of their throat. They could not, however, hold back one last attempt to get James to change his mind. “James, I...I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

James lifted his head up to look into Kieran’s dark eyes, a small frown of his own falling upon his lips. “I love her, Kieran. I want her to meet you.”

That was when the doorbell rang.

James lit up, an excited “I’ll get it” leaving his mouth as he scampered off of Kieran’s legs to run to the door. Kieran exhaled shakily, standing to follow behind him. The door was tugged open and James laughed, a joyous sound that was so at odds from what Kieran was feeling that it almost hurt to hear.

There She stood in all her dark glory. Tall. Lanky. All limbs and pale, scarred skin stretched tightly over bones that seemed to jut out in some places. Her face was a mask of rage that seemed permanently etched into her features, worn in by the winds of time and framed by heat damaged black hair and split ends that went well past Her chest. She was rough where James was soft, shadowed where he was bright - such a sharp contrast from the person Kieran had come to love so dearly that they were shocked at the relation the two held.

Isabelle Morales was the kind of person mothers would usher their children away from, warn them not to talk to, and give side-eyed glances as they passed by. Isabelle Morales was at their doorstep and Kieran had never wanted someone gone as much as they had her.

“Mom!”

“Hello dear,” James’s mother purred, a smile sharp as knives and dripping with malicious intent gracing her face. A moment passed and the smile slipped slightly, turning into something that, somehow, was even more dangerous than before. “Well, are we just going to stand here, or am I allowed inside?”

Kieran wanted to say “no, you’re not” and slam the door shut in her face, but instead they numbly stepped to the side with James, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady themself. Isabelle stepped in, carrying a cloud of noxious hate and fury with her. Kieran had to hold in a shudder. She studied their apartment with a sneer half forming on her lips, pulling at the thin sleeves of the white shawl she wore over a simple black dress.

“Well this is rather...nice. Almost too nice.”

Kieran could see the furrow forming on James’s brow from the corner of their vision and began to talk before he could say the thought Kieran knew he was thinking: how could anything be too nice?

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms. Morales,” Kieran said smoothly, holding out a hand that, by some miracle, they managed to keep from trembling.

Isabelle stared at the offered hand distastefully before dragging her gaze up and down Kieran in a way that made their skin crawl. The feeling of her eyes on them was like ants scurrying across their body, tiny feet taking them through crevices and into cracks where no one should have been looking. They would burrow their way in through pores and discover secrets that Kieran had long since repressed so that not even they could find them.

“Ah, yes...you.” The disgust that she was able to pack into those three words practically knocked Kieran over. This woman’s voice alone was toxic, but the inflections so subtly placed to convey every ounce of her opinion, yet leave just enough room for doubt was what really boggled your mind. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit feminine looking?”

The question hit Kieran like a slap to the face. It was an offhanded comment, one that, in normal situations, wouldn’t have affected her target as much (Kieran had heard the unsaid “for a boy” she had not tagged onto the end of her sentence) as it currently was. But for Kieran, someone who had spent the majority of their life discouraging any sort of label related to “female” to be branded upon them, it would have been kinder if Isabelle had simply hit him.

Not that anything about the woman in front of them was kind.

Her thoughts were like barbed wire - twisted, sharp, and cutting at anyone who came anywhere near them. They caught at Kieran’s skin and ripped at it, pulling back the flesh to reveal the fear and insecurities beneath. Kieran’s hand started to tremble where it lay on James’s back, and he gave them a look of concern before his attention was stolen by his mother’s presumptuous question of, “Well, are you going to show me around or am I to just stand here?”

“Oh,” James chirped, the brightness that usually painted every word he spoke dimming at the end of the syllable before it picked back up again. “Sure!”

“Shoes,” Kieran said quietly, mouth barely moving. If Isabelle wanted to poke her nose where it did not belong, the very least she could do was respect the house rules and remove her shoes before walking inside.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Could you take your shoes off please? We don’t want to track dirt all over the house.”

“And why,” Isabelle began, voice tilting up in cruel amusement, “Would I do that?” A mockery of a grin slid onto her face as she flashed her teeth at Kieran. Her expression promised danger and was edged with something so vicious Kieran felt a shiver run down their spine. Something cold and scaly stretched from where it was curled up in their stomach and the urge to puke crawled its way up their throat. “That’s one of those Asian traditions right? Sorry, but I’m not Chinese. I don’t follow those.”

Kieran felt that old anger from their highschool years rise from where it was slumbering in their mind. Kieran wasn’t even Chinese for God’s sake. “It-it’s not a matter of tradition, I just don’t want di - ”

Isabelle waved a dismissive hand. “James can clean it up later anyway, not that big of a deal.”

Practically choking on their breath, Kieran blinked twice in horror before croakily demanding, “Excuse me?”

James placed one small hand on their arm, a smile that did not reach his eyes drawn across his face in tight lines. The smile was tearing at the edges - too wide, too full, too fake for it to fit on James’s delicate features properly. “It’s okay, Kieran. I can do it.”

“I just-it’s not a matter of whether you can do it or not J - ”

“Darling,” Isabelle interrupted, eyes glued onto Kieran’s, as if simply looking into them would reveal the secrets that they buried deep beneath the inky surface. “A tour?”

James nodded vigorously, stepping away from Kieran’s touch to lead his mother into the house. Her heels clicked against the wooden floor of their apartment. The sound echoed through Kieran’s head as they followed the pair around quietly. Nothing Isabelle said was terribly bad, just sarcastically scathing (“oh how quaint” and “well, that’s...nice” being the two most prominent phrases) until they reached the hallway and came across the picture Kieran had been studying earlier.

“Well now, this just won’t do,” Isabelle said brightly, as if her next sentence was to help them. “James, you look far too happy in this picture.”

Kieran whipped their head up from where they had been studying their feet in time to catch James’s expression stuttering on his face. “What...too happy?” The bewilderment that was heavy in every word made Kieran’s heart ache.

“It’s not good for you to be that happy, or have you forgotten that?”

James’s smile slid right off of his face and fell to the floor where it shattered into a million pieces. Kieran could see the shards lying on the ground in front of his feet, and the pure sorrow that James held on his innocent face had them shaking. “No, mom,” he said in timid, quiet acceptance, “I remember.”

“Good,” Isabelle said in a voice so sickly sweet, Kieran could practically taste it on their tongue. “I would hate for you to have conveniently forgotten everything I taught you when you were younger. Or maybe,” she said, turning to eye Kieran with a gaze hot enough to melt steel, “Your boyfriend taught you otherwise?”

James gave a soft, hesitant giggle, innocently announcing, “Kieran’s not a boy.”

For the first time that night, Kieran saw confusion make its way slowly into the glare that Isabelle seemed to permanently hold on her face. “A girl?”

“No, Kieran isn’t a girl or a boy.”

Kieran felt the floor drop out from underneath them as Isabelle’s fake smile turned into a sneer of pure and utter disgust. The scaly thing in Kieran’s stomach began to laugh, knowing as much as they did on what was coming next. “So what, she’s an abomination? What kind of twisted thing did you drag in, James?”

Their thoughts began to shift, going from slow murmurings of anger to the high pitched whines of self loathing and panic. Their thoughts gouged into their mind like jagged metal, leaving behind bleeding gashes until their psyche was weeping and screaming for help. This wasn’t happening - Kieran was supposed to be past this. Kieran wasn’t supposed to have to deal with this ever again.

“Disgusting freak. I can’t believe you let her touch you James.”

Kieran stood there, silent, eyes shifting to James to see if he would do something - anything in their defense. James opened and closed his mouth, looking like a fish out of water before stammering, “No, mom, Kieran is-I-I...they’re - ”

Isabelle purred in a low, malice filled tone, “James, you really have forgotten everything. What did I tell you when you were younger? I know what’s best for you. I know what’s right.”

“But - ”

“James,” she snapped, voice losing any pretense of being caring or worried for James in an instant.

He stopped, eyes turning downcast. Kieran felt their heart crack, not even bothering to fight back the wave of hopelessness that crashed over their head and pulled them deep beneath the surface of old memories. Years old waves of hatred slammed into them with enough force that their chest practically caved in.

“Sorry, mom.”

Kieran shriveled up where they were standing shoulders hunching inward to protect them from the onslaught they knew was coming.

Dinner came with a brutality that turned Kieran practically mute. The tremors that had shook their body had long since stilled, anxiety being replaced by a heavy weight that was slowly hammering them into the ground. They hadn’t even opened their mouth since the hallway. Instead, Kieran sat there and took every verbal blow Isabelle threw their way, not having the nerve to even look at James despite the worried glances they could feel him throwing their way.

“I mean, God, James,” Isabelle, shoving a bite of the pasta Kieran had made earlier into her mouth, said with such a self assured air that even Kieran was beginning to believe the shit she spewed, “What are you even doing with this thing? She isn’t good for you, putting thoughts in your head that something like her is okay. She’s out of her mind.”

Kieran poked at a noodle on their plate, waiting until she left and they could go hide in the bathroom to have a breakdown. Shadows wrapped around their head and whispered in their ears things they believed they had long since left behind. They hissed in low tones, parroting what Isabelle whipped at them with a sick glee flooding every horrible syllable.

“Do you even realize how much you’re hurting me by staying with her?” She scoffed, not looking like she was in pain at all. “Don’t eat. It’s too good for you. You make me sick James.”

Kieran snapped their head up, watching as James set his fork down with a gentle click of metal against ceramic. He didn’t look upset, or even surprised, just accepting and sad - like he absorbed every word she spat and turned them inwards. They realized with a start that James believed her.

“Get out of my house,” they told her quietly, not missing the amusement that glinted in the lone eye she turned on them. It was gold like Jame’s, but there was an undercurrent of dust that ran through it, dimming the would be bright color into something rusty and burned through with decades of damage.

“Excuse me?”

“Get out of my house,” Kieran snarled quietly, ignoring James’s small noise of protest. There were tears turning his honey eyes cloudy and all Kieran could think was to get her out before she made them spill over onto his cheeks.

Isabelle laughed. “This is ridiculous, James. She thinks you actually deserve to eat - ”

“Out,” Kieran shouted, standing up and shoving their chair back. It screeched against the floor in protest, the whine ringing in their ears as they watched Isabelle slowly rise, still chuckling. “Get out before I call the police.”

“Do you see how aggressive she is? You should come back and live with me darling. It would be so much better for you.”

Kieran practically saw red as they grabbed her arm and began to drag her out of the house forcibly. Her protests and growls were overpowered by James screaming. His hands fruitlessly tugged at Kieran’s free hand, begging them to let her go, that she didn’t know what she was talking about, that she was sick.

“Kieran, Kieran please,” he sobbed, the sound stabbing Kieran’s soul over and over, tearing gaping holes into what was already damaged. “It’s my fault she doesn’t know any better! Kieran, please! She’s sick, it’s my fault, please!”

With water beginning to line their eyes, Kieran ignored him, ignored Isabelle, ignored everything but the grip they had on a thin arm that managed to put up more of a fight than they had been expecting. The noises of the scene swirled around their head like a tornado of shrieks and threats and pleas, tearing up every coherent thought Kieran had but to get her out. They reached the front door, and with one final shove, Kieran pushed Isabelle out. They took one second to absorb the offense and rage painted across her face in streaks of bruise purple, frostbite blue, and blistered red before slamming the door in her face.

James threw himself towards the wooden barrier behind Kieran, but they stepped into his path, catching his flying body and holding him against their chest. He cried, he begged, he screamed, clawing at Kieran's arms to get them to let him go to his mom, but Kieran held steady. It didn't matter that there were tears carving craters in their cheeks, it didn't matter that they were breathing so fast the room was beginning to spin - all that mattered was keeping James safe and happy.

That was all that had ever mattered.

Eventually, James tired himself out and wilted against Kieran's chest, broken whimpers leaving his lips every few seconds. The sounds ripped Kieran's heart out of their chest and threw it on the ground where it fractured into tiny pieces that could be crushed underfoot. They held James as they slid down the door, cradling him against their chest before tucking their face between his shoulder and his neck. Kieran felt and heard James gasp at the wetness that fell onto the warm skin, but did not have a chance to question it before Kieran inhaled raggedly.

And sobbed.

The noises forced their way up Kieran's throat, ugly, wet, and broken. It had been over ten years since Kieran had last cried in front of anyone, and they had not planned on breaking that streak. But with James in their arms, making such hurt noises and knowing they were the cause, it was too much. The flimsy dam Kieran had holding back their emotions broke, and everything came flooding in with a vicious vengeance from being repressed.

Kieran had been falling down that endless spiral all night, getting lost in the void of hate, disgust, and fear. All they had really wanted was for someone to pull them free.

James's hands were dancing along Kieran's shoulders and back in a panicked tango, distressed whispers of, "I'm sorry, I love you" flitting from his lips nonstop. Kieran just cried and cried, the unspoken thought crossing their mind more than once:

If you really loved me, why did you just watch?

#cried twice while writing this #yell at chi for me will ya #this aint happy folks #tw transphobia #tw dysphoria #tw manipulation #tw implied abuse #tw racism #angst #poor kieran #poor james #hurt no comfort #chi's SUPPOSED to write the comfort for this #but add pain she must :(

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theincompetentgenius · 5 years ago

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Hello can I get a match-up for Ikesen and Ikerev? I'm 5 feet 4 inches. My hair is light brown and medium. I have a pale skin. I have black eyes and Im tiny. Im an Introvert but I smile a lot. I dont like sweet stuff and I really like sour and spicy things. I become a blush mess when someone compliments me or when anything related to romance happens. I'm a little bit sarcastic but I choose my words carefully so I wont hurt anyone and they'll understand the joke and I'm pretty shy uwu thx

Aww you sound so adorable! You literally radiate uwu energy and I absolutely stan. Anywho, let’s get on with the matchup!

Ikemen Revolution

I’d pair you with.................. Fenrir Godspeed!

Yes, I know I’m being unoriginal because I went straight for the introvert x extrovert and never looked back. I’m sorry, but Fenrir is absolutely PERFECT. For a minute, I had Sirius pop into my mind. I mean, it would be so cute that he would take care of you. The two of you would plant flowers together, shower each other in compliments, and so on. But alas, I can’t separate you from Fenrir.

Immediately, Fenrir will start talking to you and that’s because he talks to everyone! He’s not afraid to start a conversation and it more than happy to show you the ropes around the Cradle. Almost immediately, the two of you would become really good friends.

Fenrir notices that you’re not the most extroverted, so he’ll always help you get involved in different events and meet new people! He’ll drag you across the Cradle, where the two of you can have the most fun. If you’re feeling overwhelmed or uncomfortable, Fenrir will happily leave and find something that you like.

Once you feel more comfortable around him, I can totally see the sarcastic canons coming in. He does so many stupid things that you have to throw a sarcastic comment. When you first do, he blinks in surprise as a wide grin spreads on his face. In retaliation, he’ll start chasing you around to give you a good noogie (do people even say that lmao EW). Now, it’s become a chain reaction: you say something sarcastic and Fenrir chases you around.

When Fenrir catches you in his arms, your head is against his chest. His accelerated heartbeat sends a jolt through your’s and your face turns bright red. Of course, our dense Ace of Spades would assume you were tired of running around. He’d ruffle your hair and let you go from his crushing embrace.

Although Fenrir is wild, he’s also a gentleman. He’ll be complimenting you every day about your outfit, your appearance, your attitude, and almost everything thing else about you. As your cheeks flush red from his kind words, he’ll throw in a compliment about your rosy cheeks as well. Good luck not being a stuttered mess after that.

Other Possibilities: Sirius Oswald, Edgar Bright

Ikemen Sengoku

I’d pair you with...................... Kenshin Uesugi!

Not going to lie, Masamune was the first person that popped into my head. Becoming a blushy mess when someone compliments you? Oh boy, you’d be as red as a tomato every day because Masamune would flirt with you nonstop. But its not like you’re completely powerless as you’d throw in some sarcastic comment to put him in his place. However, I spent some more time thinking and realized that Kenshin would be a better fit and I’ll explain why.

You must be wondering, you’re matching an introvert with a non-introvert? What’s going on? Are you alright, theincompetentgenius? Well, normally I HATE deviating from that trope, but Kenshin is my exception. Although you’re quiet, you’re not submissive and fearful. You’re not annoying and loud, but you can hold your ground when confronted. He respects that.

To be honest, you remind him of his bunnies. You’re small, petite, and super cute-- perfect to capture in a wooden cell. He’ll definitely have the urge to keep you all to himself, but I think you can change his mind without making him mad.

Although they don’t mention Kenshin’s spice tolerance, they do note that he’s a major fan of pickled plums! The two of you can eat them together as he washes them down with his sake. I’m not sure if you’ve reached the legal age of drinking (in the US, it's 21) or how much you can tolerate it, but expect to get somewhat tipsy or at least have a drink with him.

You’re the only person who can throw sarcastic comments at Kenshin without having a dagger at your throat. Actually, you’re the only person who Kenshin would NOT stab, so Sasuke likes to hide behind you whenever he wants to approach Kenshin (especially when Kenshin feels stabby).

Kenshin LOVES to spoil you. Although you insist that you don’t want anything, he notices when your eyes linger on that beautiful necklace or the ornate earrings. He’ll come back to the shop and buy all of them just for you. Some might say it’s expensive and excessive, but Kenshin could never place a monetary value on your love. He loves you too much.

Another Possibility: Masaume Date

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danurso · 6 years ago

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Monster AU Part 1

(Got this idea stuck on my head for a while now, just taking it out of my system)

“Miss...are you sure about this?” The guard asked again, it was the third time he asked that, but judging by the situation none of them could blame him.

“Yes, we’re sure.” Weiss spoke firmly, not letting her voice quiver even in that situation.

“We don’t have other choice, we need to do this.” Blake followed in her calm tone, but no matter how calm she sounded it for sure didn’t matched how she was feeling right now.

“Just give us a few minutes and come back to take us out.” Ruby’s tone was composed, even if they could feel the fear slipping a bit from her voice.

The guard sighed in defeat and pressed an code, opening a thick steel door of the most secure cell prison known by man. “I have no idea of why you misses are doing this, but if something happens to you inside there, i won’t be able to do anything.” The guard said and the four girls nodded.

“This won’t take long.” Yang said, in no better state then the rest of her team, while she was trying to sound calm, the guard could feel how nervous she was, just like her friends.

“Okay, but please be careful, and try not to anger him, if he attack you, we won’t be able to help” the guard said as the girls followed inside the gray cell.

Even though they were in atlas the color scheme of the cell didn’t matched the environment of the white and blue city, the cell was a dark gray tone thanks to everything being made by thick plates of aura reinforced steel, this cell was just like a safe, just way stronger than a normal one. some might think that this was way too much security just to keep one prisoner, but if they knew who this person is or once was, they would understand why all the measures.

“Hehehe, i wasn’t expecting visits.” The distorted voice filled their ears making them shiver, it sounded like two peoples talking at the same time, just that one of them wasn’t human. They looked ahead at the creature stuck in the wall with a steel straight jacket and several steel bars holding his body and his legs. There he was, the twisted reflection of the man they once considered as family, as friend and probably way more then just that.

“It's been a while girls.” His distorted voice filled their ears again, with a wide smirk spreading on his pale lips.

The red reaper gulped visibly. “Jaune…” yes, this creature was once jaune arc, but just a simple glance at his skin, pale as the moonlight just like his hair, and his eyes that once had a heartwarming blue coloration, but now glimmered red like fresh blood and were always surrounded by an black coloration just as dark as the night, would prove anyone wrong.

“Yes rosebud, what can i do for you?” Sarcasm dripped from his words, it was unsettling to say the very least.

“We...need your help.” ruby’s voice kept firm, just not as much as she would’ve liked.

“Help?” He raised an mocking eyebrow “and what do you need my help with rosebud?” He asked sarcastically, not really interested in the answer.

“We’re going into the dark lands, and we need someone to guide us into a specific place and that can keep other grimms away.” Weiss explained anyways.

“We know you have the knowledge to get through the dark lands safely and that you can repel some kinds of grimms.” blake added.

His smirk grew a bit before he spoke up. “After two months without visiting your dear friend, you’re here to ask my help? I feel really offended.” He said, that same sarcasm dripping from his words once more.

“We wouldn’t ask for your help if we didn’t needed it.” Yang replied sharply but shivered when his gaze landed on her.

“Now thats really mean coming from you sunshine, i thought we were friends.” He said.

“Jaune arc was our friend, you’re not him.” She shot back.

He tilted his head slightly to the side. “What do you mean sunshine? I’m still jaune arc, just now im better than i was before, don’t you agree?” an simple ‘no’ was his answer, said answer that proped a short chuckle from him.

“General ironwood and the council decided to get rid of you, so you have only two choices, you can let the army kill you or you can help us and we will keep you alive, as long as you’re helping us in the missions.” She said firmly, her silver eyes filled with determination. “But if you betray us, i’ll have to get rid of you myself.” Ruby said mustering a cold edge that was new to him.

“hehe...hehehehe...GHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” his maniacal laughter filled the cell room as the girls stared at him with a mix of fear and confusion. “these are such big words coming from you rosebud, but we all know you can’t do that.”

Ruby flinched, but curled her hands into fists and spoke up at him. “Yes i can.” She stated.

“Really?” This time his voice wasn’t only filled by sarcasm, it now had a way somber tone as well. “We’ll see about that.”

With that statement they started to hear the sound of metal being contorted and cracking, the locks of the steel bars holding his legs and his body started to crack, eventually giving in and breaking allowing him to walk freely, just to break free from the straightjacket right after and stop in front of ruby, holding her face towards him gently but firmly with his pale and cold hand. “go on rosebud, kill me, do as you say and take away my life.”

The red reaper was frozen on her place, unable to move just like her friends, none of them had their weapons at the moment, all they could do for now is watch in terror the scene unfold in front of them.

“What are you waiting for rosebud?” He whispered, slowly dragging his hand down until her neck. “I could kill you right now if i wanted, why won’t you kill me?”

Ruby stood in silence, sweating profusely thanks to her actual position.

“You can’t do it right?” He asked, not really expecting an answer, so he got closer, whispering in her ear. “Of course, you can’t really kill the guy who was your first friend of beacon can you?”

She just looked down, clenching her fists in frustration while he stepped back and took an good look at all the girls, his smirk grew wider. “You’re all making his really hard to me, i can smell your fear, your sadness and all these negative emotions.” His eyes filled with hunger as he stared at them. “they make me feel so hungry i could easily devour each one of you.” he stepped closer making them back away. “Just imagining your faces as i tear your bodies apart and taste your delicious looking flesh makes me shiver.” He said licking his lips.

The girls backed away until their backs hit the wall, the creature slowly making his way to them, until stopping in front of yang. “Four different girls, i'm sure i could get a extremely good meal out of you.” He pressed yang against the wall, opening his mouth and readied himself to sink his teeth on her neck, but stopped before making direct contact, retreating right after. “That, if i could kill any of you of course.”

At his sudden declaration, the girls started to look at him in confusion and curiosity as he backed away from yang, he gave them that sinister grin once more as his eyes wandered between the girls. “what? Surprised? You shouldn’t be.”

“You can’t kill us?” Ruby asked uncertain.

“No, even though i would love to taste your flesh.” the grimm licked his lips one more staring at them.

“And why you can’t kill us?” Weiss question followed, even though she wasn’t really sure if she wanted a answer, her curiosity was stronger then her.

“Because i love you.” His answer was short, simple and direct to the point.

The four girls were shocked with the statement to say the very least, and so, a confused yang said. “You...what?”

“I love you, is that simple.” He stated. “We traveled around the world for seven long years, and during that time i got to know each one of you way better than i ever imagined, of course, as the coward i used to be i decided to stay quiet, why would four amazing girls have any interest in someone like me, and even after our first encounter with salem, the day when she killed ren and nora, threw me on that pit and turned me into what i am today, i still feel these emotions, these fragments inside me, why do you think you managed to capture me five months ago?” he chuckled darkly and followed before any answer from them could come out. “I let you capture me, because if our fight went on, i would kill you and that thing i used to call a heart would be lost forever to me.”

The previous shock of the girls only seemed to further with his words, of course, after all this years living together and fighting together the girls came to see jaune as a precious friend, maybe even more than that, but they never actually thought that jaune could feel something like that for them.

“My emotions were lost to me a long time ago, except for this one, the ‘love’ i feel for you won’t die no matter how hard i try, and so i have an proposal for you” his lips curled once more into a wide dark smirk. “From now on, i’ll help on your missions, i’ll lend you my strength, my powers and all my knowledge for whatever you want, but…” he stepped closer, sliding his cold and pale finger over their cheeks making the girls shiver slightly. “only if you all accept to be mine.”

His words were both shocking and confusing, but he didn’t sounded like he was kidding in the slightest. “And what do you mean with that?” weiss words kept firm, even being target of his oppressive gaze.

He released a low dark chuckle. “I mean that your lives will belong to me, and i that i will do whatever i want with you, seems reasonable don’t you think?” he said simply, the girls tried to raise a voice to speak but a pitch black aura and a psychotic look from him stopped them. “It would be far too easy to claim you all here, you don’t have any weapons or any dust, in this small space ruby and weiss’ semblances would be useless, blake’s semblance isn’t fit for combat and even if yang could give some work it still wouldn’t be hard to take her down either, by the end of it you would all be weakened helpless since the guards wouldn’t want to risk their lives and this base just to save four girls.” He stated with a large smirk.

The girls were frozen, covered in cold sweat staring at him terrified, his aura vanished and he turned around with a shrug. “but of course i can’t do that, this ‘love’ won’t allow me to do it, and so i am making you this offer, give me your lives and i’ll be at your services.” he turned to them once more and extended his pale hand. “Do we have a deal?” he didn’t even tried to conceal the malice in his voice, staring at them with a devious grin.

The girls could only look between themselves for a moment, what this creature was offering was literally a deal with the devil, they would need to hand him their very souls for him to use them in the way he saw more fit inside that sick mind, in other times they would’ve refused the offer in a heartbeat, but the war is getting worse, having someone like the grimm jaune on their side would make a huge difference, and could even turn the tables at their favor, but at a great cost.

Ruby put the matter to a thought, and, understanding the unsaid message from her teammates, she swallowed hard and gripped the grimm’s hand. “Deal.” She said.

Her words made his grin widen. “Good choice rosebud, you’re not going to regret it.” His voice had the same ironic tone as before.

Still uncertain, ruby spoke up. “And how can we be sure you’re not going to betray us?”

“Have you forgot already rosebud?” He let go of her hand, still staring at them with a wide grin. “An arc never goes back on his word.”

-----

After everything was decided, the four girls leaved the cell to speak with the general, leaving the grimm back on his own, chuckling darkly to himself. “are you going to stare at me like this all day?” The grimm raised his head from his sitting position and met his scarlet eyes with the marine blue ones of a vision that was once himself.

“no” he replied with a small smile. “I'm just glad that you decided to help them.” He added.

“Im not helping them.” He grinned at him. “I'm helping myself.”

“Maybe, but maybe not.” His reflection said casually in a calm tone. “You know you care about them.”

“I'm a grimm, i don’t care about anyone.” He let out a somber chuckle. “But i will say i like seeing their reactions whenever i threaten them.”

His reflection chuckled and gave him a small smile. “You try to act tough, you act like a monster because you think you’re one, but you’re more human than you imagine.”

“Heh, i'm a grimm, i act like a monster because i am a monster, and i'm not human anymore, if i were i would still be a weakling like you.” The grimm stated glaring with a smirk at his reflection.

“Keep thinking like this, in the end you’ll understand what i mean, and yeah, my time is over and you’re in control now, but that doesn’t mean you’re not jaune arc anymore right?” His words were soft and gentle, carrying an truth that the grimm knew all too well.

“I am jaune arc, just much better than the pathetic guy you used to be.” his words aimed directly to the pride of his reflection, but they didn’t do anything to him.

“You’re right, you’re way stronger than i used to be, but you’re still jaune arc, and despite what they might think, i know you’re always going to protect them, afterall, that's what we’re supposed to do right?” The honesty in his voice was sickening for the grimm.

“Yeah…” he raised his arm, a dark aura surrounded it as it grew bigger, the pale skin of his arm was covered by a darker tone as his fingers elongated and sharpened forming deadly claws and slashing the reflection, denting the thick wall and leaving the mark of the claws on it. He chuckled darkly as his arm slowly came back to its original appearance, he stared with a maniac look at the empty spot where his reflection was before and widened his unsettling smirk. “...we’ll see about that.”

#rwby #grimm jaune #jaune arc #ruby rose #jaune x ruby #yang xiao long #jaune x yang #blake belladona #jaune x blake #weiss schnee #jaune x weiss #colorguard #jaune x harem #Monster AU

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danfanciesphil · 6 years ago

Text

L’Histoire Française (Five Years Later) (NSFW)

Happy Nearly-New Year! This is a gift that I know a lot of you have been waiting for, I really hope it lives up to your expectations. Those of you that read and loved this fic mean a great deal to me, as this one is particularly close to my heart. You deserve a treat, and here it is!

I love you all very much, and here’s to a fab 2019.

Ellen xx

(L’Histoire Française Masterlist)

(TRANSLATION OF THE FRENCH IN THIS CHAPTER)

(Ao3 LINK)

Not Quite The Louvre

June 2022

The restaurant is one Dan has never set foot in, but admired from afar, the way he might admire one of Tyler’s designer suits, or Louise’s newborn - intensely, but with an awareness that it’s very much Not For Him. He walks through the large doors that sit beneath a calligraphic sign reading ‘Gilted’, already deeply concerned about what lies beyond them. From the name, this place promises extravagance, and from the moment Dan steps inside, this is just what it delivers. A wiry, angular woman at a small desk greets him, and immediately summons a young man to take his coat. The young man is wearing a pale green suit jacket, as are all of the other wait staff, which Dan admires for its quirkiness, but is also unnerved by. Is this some new, hipster trend that he’s unaware of? Is he outdated in his plain black suit? Or is it just the restaurant trying to distinguish themselves in some way? As his coat is being dealt with, Dan peers into the dining area, noting a lot of green decoration to match the waiters, including masses of tropical plants spreading their enormous leaves and vines throughout the tables. The walls are a distressed emerald, and plastered in enormous mirrors, which also cover much of the ceiling. Instantly, Dan is gobsmacked by the opulence, and fears for his wallet, which is about to get a pummelling, he can tell.

“Do you have a reservation, Sir?” the angular lady asks, one thin eyebrow arched. Dan tugs on his own boring suit jacket; he gets the distinct impression that she can smell inferiority on him.

“Yes,” Dan replies, cheeks warm. “I think it’s under Lester?”

The woman nods stiffly, then gazes down at her iPad, which has its own pale green cover, and the word ‘Gilted’ etched on in swirly gold. A nice touch, Dan can’t help but think. The woman pauses, then taps the screen, and locks it. She nods to Dan, marginally more amiable now that she knows he’s not some imposter.

“Right this way, Sir.”

She leads him through the maze of tables, of which there seem to be hundreds, scattered across a huge ballroom with vaulted ceilings, and a mezzanine balcony, accessible via an enormous spiralling staircase. Dan swallows, thinking again of his poor bank account, which has no idea of the violent assault headed its way. The woman takes him to a four person table in the centre of the room, underneath a chandelier so large Dan is astounded it can be safe, suspended as it is above his head.

“Enjoy your meal, gentlemen,” the woman says, and Dan nods awkwardly, mumbles a thank you, and sits down.

“Hi,” Dan says as he slides into his seat, and meets the gaze of the person opposite him. “Phil’s going to be late.”

Tyler’s mouth falls open, gasping dramatically. “The scoundrel.”

“He already texted to tell us,” Teddy says, and Dan relaxes a bit. It’s warm in here, not unpleasantly so, but as Dan is already uncomfortable, it feels stifling. He can’t help but think that it would be far easier to relax if Phil were beside him. “So,” Teddy continues, his fingers lacing together on the table in front of him. “Shall we get straight to it?”

Dan freezes, hackles immediately up, sniffing danger misting off of Teddy’s words. He looks between his two friends, trying and failing, as he always does, to decipher the mischievous look in their eyes.

“What?” he asks carefully.

“Well Dan,” Tyler jumps in, suspiciously keen to answer. “I know you’re not one for deep thought, but what do you think the reason might be that your other half might have summoned us here tonight?”

“I hardly think Phil suggesting we all go for dinner counts as a summons,” Dan says, though truthfully, Tyler’s implication stirs the butterflies that have already begun awakening in Dan’s belly.

Teddy’s left hand spreads itself atop Tyler’s, rather obviously. Dan tries not to roll his eyes as Teddy’s fingers waggle, making the large, princess cut diamond on his ring finger sparkle under the chandelier lights.

“Guys,” Dan says in his warning tone, which, granted, is about as terrifying as a guinea pig squeaking. “It’s just a catch-up dinner because you guys are gonna be on your cruise over my birthday next week.”

“Mmhmm,” Teddy says, sipping from his water glass. “In a restaurant expensive enough to bankrupt all four of us with the tasting menu.”

“It’s funny isn’t it,” Tyler muses to the general vicinity, leaning back in his chair. “That what with your parents being on the other side of the world, there’s nobody whose approval Phil could seek if he were inclined to, say... pop the question.”

“Oh, no, Ty,” Teddy says before Dan can object to that loaded statement, patting Tyler’s hand. They share an amused smile. “I’m not sure about that.”

“Oh no?” Tyler asks, theatrically.

“I think if I were Phil,” Teddy says. “In place of his actual guardians, I’d turn to Dan’s closest pals. The people he’s been closest to for most of his adult life, his mentors, his confidantes-”

Dan snorts loudly, and a nearby waiter shoots him a disapproving glare. “Kim and Kanye couldn’t make it, unfortunately.”

“D-list imitations compared to us, darling,” Tyler says, grinning. He’s wearing an irritatingly smug, patronising expression that Dan is very familiar with. “Come on, Dan. The set up is so obvious even you shouldn’t be able to miss it. He’s probably pacing the pavement outside right now, rehearsing his proposal speech.”

“He’s late because he had to supervise detention today,” Dan mutters, though beneath the table, his hands wring the cloth napkin.

Luckily, a waiter approaches then, and Tyler is distracted, demanding the wine list, and a round of nibbles and G & T’s to start them off. Dan turns his attention to his phone while the waiter reels off the various gins available.

From: Dan To: Phil omg please hurry up im about to commit a double homicide x

Ten seconds later, he gets a response.

From: Phil To: Dan no fair. you promised if you ever murdered them that i could help :( im four mins away. steer clear of the silverware. xx

From: Dan To: Phil no promises x

“Darling, I know the etiquette expected from this sort of establishment is a little beyond you, but texting at the dinner table really is terribly rude,” Tyler says, giving him a level glare.

“Sorry,” Dan mutters, though he doesn’t mean it. He pockets his phone reluctantly, noting that the waiter has once again disappeared. “This place is too fancy for me.”

“I must say,” Teddy says, thoughtfully. He’s gazing around at the other patrons, clinking silver cutlery against china dishes, their bleached white teeth clacking against crystal glasses of Merlot. “I was a little surprised at the venue Phil chose to to do this.”

“To do what? Teddy, Phil is not going to-”

“Yes, I thought the same,” Tyler says animatedly, turning to his husband. “That man’s so off-the-wall in every other respect, you’d think he’d have conjured up some extravagant, personalised proposal scene in a lego version of the Eiffel Tower or something ridiculous. Not a restaurant so posh it almost makes me feel uneasy.” He sips water again. “Almost.”

“For God’s sake,” Dan near-snaps, nails pushing into his palms. “Will you stop? It’s just dinner, for God’s sake.”

Something over Dan’s shoulder catches Tyler’s eye, and the smile that spreads over his mouth is somehow both smug and excited. He leans back in his chair, and exchanges a glance with Teddy.

“Uh huh,” Tyler says.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m stupidly late I know,” Phil’s voice says at Dan’s ear. Seconds later, lips are pressed, fleeting and damp, against Dan’s cheek. “Have you already ordered?”

“Just the wine-” Dan starts to say, and then stops short as Phil slips into the chair beside his.

His boyfriend is wearing a suit that Dan has never seen him in before. The jacket is black velvet, with thin, undulating gold thread woven into swirling patterns across the expanse. It’s fitted to his long, lithe body, and hugs his broad shoulders perfectly. Phil’s hair has been trimmed, jaw closely shaven, and a haze of expensive-smelling cologne floats in the air around him. In short, he looks more delicious than anything on the menu, and Dan hasn’t even read it yet.

“Phil, darling, you look so scrumptious that it’s going to be a struggle not to leap across the table and devour you,” Tyler says with a gleeful grin.

Phil laughs politely, scooting his chair in. “Hey, Ty. Teddy. How are you guys?”

Dumbed by the appearance of his boyfriend, who earlier this morning had had to run out of the house without showering to get to work on time, Dan can only stare. He feels underdressed beside this deity. A pale, unworthy companion for someone so beautiful, in a place so beautiful to match. Dan is wearing a suit as well, sure, but it’s just the same one he always wears, black and tight-fitting, possibly a little on the small side, especially noticeable from how it exposes his ankles.

“We’re wonderful, my dear,” Tyler answers for both of them.

“I’ve been trying to get around to finally divorcing him, but he keeps distracting me with blowjobs,” Teddy says in a sigh.

At that moment, a slightly flustered waiter coughs from the end of the table, holding a bottle of expensive-looking red wine. “Y-your Rijoca, gentlemen.”

Tyler claps his hands excitedly. “I’ll do the tasting, garcçon.” He pushes his glass towards the waiter, who pours a drop in.

Whilst Tyler sniffs and sips pretentiously, Dan leans towards Phil as discreetly as he can. “You look absolutely amazing,” Dan says, still dazed. “Should I have dressed up more?”

Phil gives him a warm, fond smile which spreads, like treacle, through Dan’s entire body, until he can feel it in his toes. “Dan, tu es toujours la plus belle personne dans la pièce.”

A bunch of pink, sun-warmed flowers bloom in Dan’s cheeks. “Merci,” he mumbles. “But seriously-”

“The bouquet is divine Phil,” Tyler announces, gesturing for the waiter to fill everyone’s glasses. “Try, try. Is that not simply magnifique?”

Phil takes his glass, thanking the waiter, and sips politely. “Yeah, it’s delicious,” he says. “Well picked.” He turns his attention back to the waiter. “Um, excusé-moi monsieur, nous voudrons un boutéille de champagne aussi, s’il vous plaît.”

“Assurément, monsieur.”

“Oh? Are we celebrating?” Teddy asks in a knowing voice, chin resting atop his interlaced fingers. His eyes glimmer, though it could be the reflection on his superfluous, hipster spectacles.

“We are,” Phil confirms once the waiter has disappeared off. The three of them wait for Phil to continue, but he simply sips Rijoca, and pretends to be intrigued by the décor. Just as Tyler’s big mouth opens, clearly intent on prompting a further explanation, Phil clears his throat loudly, and opens his menu with a flourish. “So! What are we having? French cuisine can be a somewhat hit and miss. Do you think you’ll be alright finding something you like?”

Reluctantly, Dan turns his attention to his own menu, though his heart has started to thump distractingly beneath his shirt. He feels as if he might need to remove his suit jacket soon, or else rivers of sweat will begin pouring out of his sleeves. That might put Phil off whatever it is he has planned. Not that Phil is necessarily planning anything. This could, still, just be a normal, catch-up meal between friends. Where everyone is dressed to the nines for no reason, and champagne is being placed on standby, and the very air itself tastes decadent.

The menu is entirely in French, and despite the lessons he’s been taking for the past three years, and despite Phil’s steady stream of dirty talk and sweet nothings in the language, Dan cannot understand a word in front of him. Then again, even if the menu was in layman’s English, Dan doubts very much that the words would seep into his mushy brain.

“Hmm, what’s cuisses de grenouilles?” Tyler asks, peering at his own menu.

Phil hides a smile behind his wine glass. “Frog’s legs.”

Tyler shuts the menu sharply. “Right, think I’ll stick to the salade.”

“I can never resist a French Onion Soup,” Teddy says with a conspiratorial smile. “Just don’t tell my health-freak husband how much oil and cheese they pour in.”

Tyler immediately begins Googling this on his phone, which starts a quiet, whispered argument on the other side of the table. Phil turns to Dan; there’s no mistaking the hidden twinkle in his eye, unsuccessfully being held back, perhaps until the champagne arrives.

Phil’s eyebrow lifts. “Dan?”

“Y-yes?”

His heart is pounding against his chest, as if it wants to break free and launch itself onto Phil’s plate.

“What are you going to have?” Phil asks, nodding towards his menu. God, he looks phenomenal, Dan can’t help but think. In the low, warm lighting, surrounded by pastel green, Phil is a waterlily in bloom. He puts Monet’s Nympheas to shame, and Dan saw those right up close, too. “Do you need me to translate anything?”

“N-no,” Dan says, mesmerised. He swallows, quietly, and tears his gaze away. Oh, God. Is his entire life about to turn upside down at the sight of one fold of a bended knee? “I’ll just have the, uh,” he casts about the thick ivory page for something vaguely recognisable. “The ratatouille.”

“Are you sure?” Phil asks, frowning. “I think they have galettes. They’re like savoury pancakes. You like pancakes.”

“No, really,” Dan assures him, stomach roiling at the idea of attempting to digest a flappy, doughy pancake right now. He lifts his glass of wine to his lips and pours about half of it down his throat. “I’m in a, uh, tomatoey mood.”

“What a romantic sentiment,” Tyler mutters to Teddy.

“He can treasure it forever,” Teddy replies, luckily too low to be overheard by Phil. Even so, Dan kicks both of them in the shin.

The waiter returns with an ice bucket and champagne, and Phil orders for everyone in his fluent, silken French. Dan is on edge, certain now that he is about to be jumped with some monumental romantic gesture that he is entirely unprepared to deal with. It all feels overwhelming - the glitz, the alcohol, the unrecognisable, expensive food - but he tries to cling to the presence of Phil beside him, safe and comforting even gussied up as he is.

Is this how it always is? Is the proposer supposed to fire the question out of the blue, giving the proposee no time at all to rehearse or prepare? He supposes in all the films he’s seen, the woman is always totally caught off-guard by the sight of her man kneeling before her. Dan’s always been pretty cynical about this however, thinking she must have had some sort of inclination.

Before he can dwell any further, the food arrives amidst casual chatter about jobs and grievances, and Teddy and Tyler’s usual guilt tripping about Dan having “abandoned them to go and live in sin with his French lover.”

“It was three years ago,” Dan says to Teddy. “I think possibly it’s time to forgive me.”

“We should really be angry at Frenchie, of course, for snatching you away,” Tyler says, studying a tomato on his fork with scrutiny. “But who could stay mad at those chiselled features?”

“You do know I’m not actually French, don’t you?” Phil asks, though he’s laughing good-naturedly, playing with the stuffed aubergine on his plate. “And hey, without Dan there I bet it was great that you could have sex in any room of the house, before you moved into your new place, obviously.”

“Never stopped us before,” Teddy mutters and Dan throws a napkin at him.

By the time dessert is over with, the red wine has been drained, and the champagne is finally lifted from the ice bucket, Dan has almost forgotten what he’d been worried about. The wine in Dan’s bloodstream is creating a pleasant, blurred hum around their table. It even makes Tyler’s loud, boisterous chatter just the right side of tolerable.

“So,” Phil says in a louder voice than he has been speaking, and reaches to pluck the unopened champagne from Teddy’s hands. “I have something I’d like to announce.”

Instantly Dan’s heart leaps into his throat. Tyler and Teddy exchange a look loaded with something like ‘here it comes’. Phil turns to Dan, and reaches for his hand. Dan lets him take it, limply, and tries to focus on the words about to come from his boyfriend’s mouth; in the thousand ways he’d imagined Phil might do this, he always knew he’d need to remember everything he said. Phil’s always been a master of language, wielding it like a sword in the hands of a medieval Knight.

“Dan,” Phil says. “There’s a reason I wanted us all to be here tonight.”

Dan takes a deep breath. “O-oh, okay.”

“I don’t want to give you the wrong idea,” Phil says, unexpectedly. “There are things I want to ask you, in the future, but that’s not what this is. You should know, by now, that I love you more than anything. I see a future for us, a long and happy future, and that’s why I think we don’t need to be swearing it to one another with rings just yet.”

“I…” Dan frowns, looking towards Teddy and Tyler. Their expressions are unreadable; they look excited, brimming with some secret thing Dan is perplexed by. “Wait, so you’re... not proposing?”

Phil smiles sweetly, and squeezes Dan’s hand. “No.” He reaches into his jacket, pulling out a key. There’s a keyring attached, in the shape of the Eiffel Tower. On it, Dan can see silver lettering, though he can’t read what it says. “I thought about it. I’m always thinking about it, honestly. Of course I want to be married to you. But before we splash out on a big wedding, I think it’s important for us to get to a place, individually, where we’re happy in ourselves.”

Dan’s heart squeezes. He knows that somewhere in that speech Phil said he loves him. That he wants to be married to him someday, even. But all Dan hones in on is the word ‘individually’. He and Phil have tried individually. It had been, and remains to this day, the worst period of Dan’s life, trying to extricate himself from Phil, after he’d known the touch of him, the closeness. Surely Phil cannot be suggesting they do that again - try some new-age method of spending some time apart to ‘find themselves’ before committing? Phil turns Dan’s hand over then, distracting him, so his palm faces up, and drops the key into it. Bemused, Dan brings it to his face, squinting at the words written on it.

La Cerise Galerie, 234 Lipton Avenue

He recognises the name. It’s a gallery Dan used to like visiting from time to time, smallish, and independent, run by a French couple with a passion for the romantics and the impressionists. Unfortunately, the couple, Madame and Monsieur Cerise, decided to put the gallery on the market a few months ago to go and travel the world on an extended retirement trip. They were clearly wealthy from some unknown source, the gallery just being something they did on the side. Sadly, the pretty mansionette that the gallery was in, with its white, modern, square exterior, and neat gardens, has since remained empty.

“I don’t understand,” Dan says, feeling as if he’s stood on the edge of some tall, sheer cliff in high winds.

“He never was the brightest bulb, Phil,” Tyler says in a stage whisper. “You may need to spell it out for the poor dear.”

“It’s yours, Dan,” Phil says, inexplicably. “I bought it. Well, almost. I’ve had a a little help.” Phil shoots a meaningful look towards Tyler, who lifts his glass, smiling. “You need to sign the deed for it, and I have to finalise some stuff. But it’s yours if you agree, Dan. I picked the key up on my way here. And now I’m giving it to you.”

Dan stands from his chair, making it screech across the wooden floor. He can barely breathe; he knew this suit jacket was too small for him. The key sits weightily in his palm, loaded with all that it represents.

“Phil” Dan says, shaking his head. He wants to hurl the keys across the room. “You can’t do this. This is... mad.” He looks at Tyler, who is wearing a fascinated expression, as if Dan’s reaction is a scene in a teledrama. “Ty... you knew about this?”

The room is rocking violently, side to side beneath Dan’s feet. Tyler nods, sipping wine. “Of course. Phil and I have been in the process of purchasing the place for weeks.”

“But earlier... you were hinting he was gonna propose!”

Teddy laughs then, clearly thoroughly enjoying this crazy scene as much as Tyler. “We had to throw you off the scent, obviously.”

Well, Dan thinks, they sure managed that. Dan feels utterly blindsided by this, can’t even wrap his head around something so absurd. The keys in his hand are dragging him to the floor as the responsibility they drip with mounts. Being a property owner of any description at his age is something far out of Dan’s expectation, let alone the owner of his own gallery. Carefully, as if he’s approaching a wild, skittish deer, Phil places his napkin on the table, and stands too. He holds his hands out to Dan, wary of spooking him.

“Let me explain,” Phil says, or Dan thinks that’s what he says; his heart is pounding so loudly it’s nearly drowning out the words. He takes Phil’s hands anyway, if only to ensure he doesn’t topple over. A few heads have turned towards them from nearby tables, presumably because Dan standing up and clearly on the verge of a panic attack is not the usual spectacle for a place like this. “I want you to be happy, Dan,” Phil is saying, somewhere on the horizon. “I want to see you flourish, and grow. I’m so, so grateful you decided to apply for a TA position five years ago, I truly am. But I know it’s not the path you’d have chosen, if you could.” He pats the keys in Dan’s hand. “This, right here, is what you want. I’m lucky enough to love what I do. All I want is for you to feel the way I do each morning, when you get in to work.”

Glassy-eyed, Dan just stares at Phil. He looks down at the keys in his hand again, and slowly curls his fingers around them, just to feel the cold, slim weight of them, and test out the idea that they belong to him.

“It’s too much,” Dan whispers, trying to remember the asking price painted onto the sun-faded For Sale sign in the front lawn of the gallery. Even with Phil’s additional new research-job at the University in the next town over, he’s can’t be earning enough to afford this. “We can’t afford it.”

“I loaned Phil what he couldn’t reasonably stretch to,” Tyler says then, dropping this snippet of information with far too much nonchalance. “My promotion has given me a salacious new salary. Teddy and I already bought the dream home last year, and had the big wedding. We thought about getting one of those abandoned infants from China shipped over, but on balance, this seemed more of a priority.”

“Tyler, no,” Dan says, coldly. “I don’t want a handout. I’m working full time, and I’m doing the teacher-training course. In a few years I’ll be a qualified English teacher, I don’t need-”

“Your dreams are always worth a shot,” Teddy interrupts, then reaches out, and pops the champagne. “Even if it’s just one shot, with everything you have. Besides, you’ll never persuade Ty out of it. He’s a regular sugar daddy now. Buys his way out of everything. Cooking dinner, doing the dishes, return blowjobs-”

As if to prove this point, Tyler whips out a few banknotes from some pocket in his immaculate suit and throws them into Teddy’s face. “Twenty pounds to shut your cute trap, darling.”

Suddenly exhausted from the overwhelm, Dan sits back down, heavily. Phil follows suit, watching Dan with scrutiny.

“I know it seems like a lot,” Phil says softly, one hand on Dan’s shoulder. “But it seemed… right. I was on my way to the jewellery store to get you some fancy ring, and I drove past the gallery on my way. And I got this feeling in my gut, a familiar feeling that I couldn’t quite place. So I drove on, and then I realised - it’s the same feeling I had when you walked into my classroom that first day. A kind of static buzz, exciting and hopeful. Like all the atoms around me just aligned.”

A lump, huge and insistent, aches in Dan’s throat, making his eyes water. “I won’t be able to repay you. Not for years.”

“I think I speak for Phil and myself when I say that the only repayment we need right now, is for you to give it your best shot,” Tyler says, making Teddy smile at him in that rare, fond, proud way. “Well,” Tyler corrects. “I’m sure Phil wouldn’t mind a grateful blowjob or two as well-”

“He’s right,” Phil interrupts, and Dan raises an eyebrow. “About you not needing to worry about repaying us,” Phil adds quickly, though a smirk has crept onto his face. “You don’t need to decide right now. But I thought we could go and see it after dinner, take a look at least.”

“See it tonight?” Dan asks. His full stomach squeezes and contracts uncomfortably, the ratatouille threatening to make a second appearance. “Um, w-well...”

He looks at Teddy and Tyler, now kissing on the other side of the table. He’s not sure he can take a visit to the potential property of his dreams with them in tow. Phil follows his gaze, then leans towards Dan, smiling.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll tell them seulement nous.”

They walk to the restaurant, floaty and slightly swaying from the champagne Dan had forced himself to knock back in celebration. He’s still incredibly unsure about this whole thing, and feels as if either accepting or rejecting the offer would have equally disastrous consequences. Not even taking into consideration how it would disappoint Phil to refuse the gallery, Dan can barely stand to imagine how, in the weeks and possibly years that followed that refusal, he’d slowly be consumed with regret. Phil had been right, earlier - Dan had never wanted this career path, and has only really stayed on it to be near him. But Phil’s career prospects are changing; he’s spending more and more time at the University, and Dan knows it won’t be long until he goes from Assistant History Researcher, to PhD student, to full-fledged History Professor. And then what will Dan’s excuse be for working in a job he has no passion for, with children that are more inclined to fondly mock him than listen to him as an authoritative figure?

Working as a teacher has always been a horrifying thought for Dan, if he’s honest. The only thing that makes it tolerable is knowing that he’ll be able to snatch time with Phil, before class and in class and a bunch of times between. The idea of patrolling the school halls without this prospect is not a fun one.

And... he has always wanted this. The cute, perfectly situated, small-town gallery. It’s a dream he’s only told a select few about, not even his parents, who would dismiss it as unrealistic. Perhaps their influence was stronger than Dan thought it had been, because never did he expect to actually get his dream, especially not like this, when he’s so young, and only because Phil’s willing to place so much faith in him.

All of this bubbles around with the champagne in Dan’s tipsy brain, until they’re at the door of the gallery, and Dan realises he hasn’t spoken a word to Phil all the way here. Their hands are joined, swinging gently between them. Now, Dan breaks the hold, reaching into his trouser pocket for the key. He looks at Phil before he inserts it into the lock.

“If I decide I can’t do it,” Dan says in a rush, because Phil has to hear it. “If it’s all too much right now, and I’m not ready… I just want to tell you,” he swallows, determined to find the right words, “nobody has ever done anything like this for me. Nobody has ever even listened to me long enough to understand that I dream about this all the time. I don’t think I really understood how much you must love me until now,” Dan confesses, feeling his eyes sting. “I don’t know if I’m quite able to accept something so…” he flaps his hands at the pale grey door of the gallery, with its frosted windows, and neat, quiet sign. “You know. But oh my God. Thank you for this. That doesn’t even begin to cover it. But thank you.”

“That’s okay,” Phil says with a small, pleased smile. “I know it’s big. And maybe I’m doing everything wrong. Maybe I should have proposed first, I don’t know.” He shrugs, eyes travelling to to the sign on the door. “But I know one day, maybe way in the future, but one day, I’ll look over and see a ring on your finger. I know it would make you happy, if I asked you. But I don’t want that to be... what defines you. I don’t want you to just be my partner, who hates his job. I want you to be your best self, and to commit to me knowing you’ll never yearn for more. No pressure, Dan, really. It’s all reversible. But let’s have one teensy, decadent little explore, try out picking which room you’d display what in. It can just be pretend, for now.”

Dan smiles, marvelling as always at Phil knowing just what to say. “Okay,” he agrees, and opens the door.

September 2022

“What are you doing here?”

Phil laughs, thankfully, and walks over to kiss him. “Nice to see you too, stranger.’

“Sorry,” Dan says against Phil’s mouth, sagging into his embrace. “My nerves are fraught.”

“Good thing I brought this then,” Phil says, leaning back and pulling out a bottle of cold champagne from the large bag in his hand. “To celebrate your Grande Ouverture, Monsieur.”

Dan smiles weakly, though the phrase makes his heart speed up. “God, don’t call it that. It’s just a small party to let people know I’m here.”

Phil nods seriously, but there’s a glinting smile in the depths of his eyes. That smile hasn’t faded for one moment since Dan announced, after just one tour of the gallery’s rooms, empty of everything but promise, that he’s going to do this. Since that night, Dan has thrown himself into getting it ready, procuring artworks, establishing a name for himself as a young curator with a new space, and it’s all led up to this. Tomorrow night, the Cerise Galerie officially opens, under new ownership. It’s currently eleven o’clock, and Dan’s been working tirelessly since 7am. He’s barely been home all week, in fact. Buffy probably doesn’t even recognise him anymore.

“Sure,” Phil says, then pushes the bottle into Dan’s hands. “Open this will you? I’ve got some plastic glasses in here somewhere.”

Dan watches as Phil sets the bag down, pulls out his zig-zag blanket and spreads it over the floor of the main gallery room. It’s a strange thing to do, probably, but Dan is rarely surprised by Phil’s peculiarities anymore. Phil finds glasses, and then produces a few cartons of Chinese food, and Dan falls in love with him all over again. They eat and drink sat on the blanket together, shoes kicked off, shirts unbuttoned, until Dan feels vaguely normal again, and much less like he’s about to burst into a million shards of stress and worry.

“It looks awesome in here,” Phil says, leant back on his hands as he surveys the walls. The frames are all simple wood, so as not to detract from the paintings within. This room shows the work of three artists, all Ethiopian by birth, who paint about their culture, their current lives in England, and their families, respectively. Dan found each artist separately, and has placed their work in one room, to see how their combined cultural experience compliments each other’s work. “You’re really good at this.” Phil lowers his eyes to meet Dan’s, still glinting. “I knew you would be.”

“Thank you,” Dan says, as sincerely as he can manage. He must have thanked Phil a thousand times by now, a hundred thousand, possibly, both verbally and… non-verbally, but he still feels he needs to stress it again. “Most people wouldn’t get an opportunity to even try. Let’s hope I don’t fuck it up.”

Phil frowns. “I don’t think you could, Dan. But you know if it doesn’t work out, it’s not your fault. This is hardly the best economy to be opening an independent gallery in. If it doesn’t take off like we hope…” Phil shrugs. “Then we’ll chalk it up to experience, and a fun adventure, and try again somewhere down the line.”

Dan nods, grateful for his optimistic practicality. Those two things shouldn’t fit together, but somehow Phil makes it work. Just then, Dan’s elbows give out, shoulders and back screaming at him to release the tension, and he flops back onto the blanket, groaning.

“You alright?” Phil asks around a chuckle, nudging Dan with his knee. “Getting old?”

“Everything aches,” Dan complains, eyes falling shut. “The stress of running my own business has aged me before my time.”

“And you haven’t even opened yet,” Phil teases, but starts to gather up the empty Chinese boxes, moving them into an empty carrier bag. “Turn over, Grandad.”

One of Dan’s eyes opens. “What?”

Phil laughs, eyes crinkling around the edges. This is a rather wonderful vantage point, Dan muses to himself. Phil is knelt up, in just black jeans and his white shirt rolled up at each sleeve. His jet black hair is starting to pepper grey at the shaved sides, which Dan adores, and tells him so frequently. He looks like a man, strong and lean, with the piercing blue eyes of a mythical sea creature, and the mischievous smile of an eighteen year old.

“I said, turn over,” Phil repeats, but this time he winks. Dan thinks about refusing, but that’s never normally a good idea if he wants to get through the night un-spanked. And yes, the idea of being bent over Phil’s knee is tempting, but as he’s got to run around an opening-party tomorrow, he probably needs to not be in pain every time he takes a step. So, Dan turns onto his stomach, intrigued already by what Phil has in mind. Phil crawls over to him then, and straddles Dan, sitting on his bum. He smooths his big hands across Dan’s shoulders and begins to squeeze and knead them; Dan is so caught off-guard by the massage that he sinks heavily into the floor, and groans, making Phil laugh again. “Good?”

“So good,” Dan says, practically drooling. “Your fingers are like wonderful knives.”

“Hmm,” Phil says. “I’m hoping that’s a positive thing.”

“Oh, it is.”

Phil keeps kneading him, knuckles working the knots out one by one, then carving pathways either side of his spine. He works Dan’s hips, the dip of his lower back, slots his fingers between Dan’s ribs and rakes over them. It’s sinfully good, and by the time Phil’s hips grind into his bum for the first time, Dan is so hard he can barely think straight.

Phil climbs off of him, and pulls Dan’s shoulder, encouraging him to turn over until he’s laid on his back again. Dan moves fluidly, easily, perfectly happy to be led by Phil’s desire. He learned long ago to trust that despite the teasing and playful build-up, Phil will always get him there in the end. Phil unbuttons Dan’s shirt, then trails his tongue up the exposed strip of skin between the lapels. He pulls the material aside, revealing a nipple, and closes his lips over it, first softly, and then biting down, hard.

Dan gasps, the sting of pain giving way to the instant tingle of blissful relief that follows it. At first, Dan had been more reluctant to experiment with the duality of pleasure and pain that Phil had slowly revealed he enjoyed. But over time, Dan has dipped his toe deeper and deeper into the waters, and discovered, to his shock, that he actually likes it a lot. Now, five years into their sexual relationship, Dan is no longer shy about his desire, and readily admits to Phil, as he found it so hard to do once, that he wants Phil to hurt him, and then kiss him. To tie him up with ropes that chafe, and then lick soft, warm lines up his neck. To bite his thighs hard enough to mark the skin, and then push slick fingers inside of him so gentle and slow that it takes hours to open him up enough.

Phil has removed Dan’s shirt entirely now, and is currently working his trousers off too. Once they’re thrown aside, he settles between Dan’s thighs, hands roaming over the bare skin on show. His fingers pinch Dan’s nipples, coaxing them into taut pebbles. His nails drag down Dan’s sides, leaving thin white lines across the skin in their wake. Dan just breathes shallowly, trying not to wriggle too much, or gasp too loudly, as he’s not been expressly permitted to do anything except lie here, on his back, and let Phil do as he wants.

“Do you know,” Phil says conversationally, as he runs a teasing, light hand over Dan’s erection, concealed beneath his black briefs. “You’re just as gorgeous as the day I met you.”

“Less cocky, I expect,” Dan replies, and Phil slaps him in the thigh for answering, then strokes the spot.

“A bit, perhaps.”

“You’re more gorgeous,” Dan blurts, at which point two spots of pink burst into each of his cheeks. “Maybe it’s the salt and pepper hair. Or just… happiness. You look magnificent, every day.”

Phil’s hands pause for a moment, and he gives Dan a fond, loving smile. “No more talking now,” he says after a moment, and Dan is sort of glad. Who knows what other schmaltzy nonsense might have seeped out if he were allowed to continue. He tips his head back, and sinks into the sensation of Phil’s hands on him again, and then his mouth, against his briefs, light and teasing with his flicking tongue.

“Lift,” Phil instructs, tapping Dan’s hip.

As he raises his bum from the floor, Phil tugs the briefs down, and then all the way off. He trails one finger along the slightly curved line of Dan’s cock, then scoops the pearl of precome on his fingertip, and deposits it into his mouth. He takes Dan’s thighs in each hand then, and pushes them upwards, until Dan’s near bent in half. Practiced at this by now, Dan knows to wrap his own hands around them, and hold himself like this, so he does.

“Bon,” Phil whispers, offhandedly, and presses a kiss to Dan’s left foot.

There’s a pause before anything else happens, and staring up at the ceiling as he is, Dan can’t tell why. If he had to guess, however, he’d say that Phil was in the process of removing his own clothes, and the thought of it makes Dan ache, in the centre of his chest. It’s a struggle not to lift his head, and see the slow reveal of Phil’s naked body with his own two eyes. Eventually, Phil is back, and Dan feels lips against the backs of his thighs, making his cock twitch in anticipation.

“Ne jouir pas,” Phil says, firmly, shortly before taking one of Dan’s balls into his mouth.

He does the same to the other, and right away Dan is not convinced he will be able to follow Phil’s instruction. Phil’s tongue trails down, not going the way Dan expected, and he groans, deep and long, sensing the impending development before it happens. His cock remains untouched and flushed a deep pink, Phil’s mouth moving to areas further south. He licks between Dan’s cheeks in one unbroken line, then places a hand on each, and begins to swirl the tip of that tongue around Dan’s rim.

Dan’s face is hot, and probably bright red. Each movement of Phil’s tongue against him sparks a dozen electric pulses through his whole body, along with that delicious, hot sluice of shame that comes from being so vulnerable, from doing something ‘taboo’. If Dan turns his head to the left, he can see a painting he loved from the moment he set eyes on it, of a wild desert, over which a string of bunting hangs, displaying the Ethiopian flag, and beside it, the Pride flag.

“Fuck,” Dan lets slip as Phil’s tongue inches its way inside him.

He’s relentless at this, and saves it for special occasions because he knows Dan goes mad for it. When he does press his tongue there, he is slow and teasing, and can spend hours at it, driving Dan to the brink of ecstasy, and sometimes over the brink, if Dan is out of practice at staying in control. He highly suspects this might be one of those times.

His hips dance and shift, pushing into the feel of Phil against him, all warm wet mouth, and insistent, flicking tongue. “Fuck, Phil,” Dan moans, breathless. “Y-you’ll have to stop if you don’t want me to-”

Phil’s hand draws back and then lands with a slap on Dan’s right cheek, loud enough that it echoes around the room. He draws back to look at Dan between his thighs, lips slick, cheeks flushed. “Ne jouir pas,” he repeats. “And no talking, either.”

Then he dives back in, leaving Dan struggling and gasping, eyes fixed to the ceiling, trying desperately to think of the most non-arousing objects he can conjure up. A teapot. A wheelbarrow. Phil’s socks on the table. Phil’s tongue against his ass-

“Unngh, God,” Dan groans, and then, miraculously, and awfully, Phil moves away. There’s a smirk twisting his lips, and he reaches for the champagne bottle, taking a cheeky swig. Dan lifts an eyebrow, but dares say nothing.

“Très bon,” Phil says approvingly, then offers him the bottle. Dan shakes his head carefully, sensing a trap, and Phil laughs. “Hey, I brought it for us to share, no tricks.” Still, Dan refuses, too aroused to contemplate trying something as mundane as drinking, and Phil shrugs, setting it down. He’s in only his pants now, Dan notes, which are doing a poor job of concealing how hard he is beneath them. He climbs back on top of Dan, takes both of his wrists in either hand, and pins them above his head, smiling. “If I told you to keep your hands here, would you?”

At once, Dan nods, eagerly.

“Alright,” Phil says, leaning down to give him a slow, explorative kiss. When it’s over, he releases Dan’s wrists, and tilts his hips forwards, pressing their groins together. Even through the fabric of Phil’s underwear, Dan’s eyes roll back at how good it feels, to have some friction against his tortured erection at last. “I’m going to let you fuck me,” Phil says, as if he’s telling Dan he’s bought Buffy more dog food. “And you’re not to move your hands.”

Dan’s eyes widen. There’s absolutely no doubt in his mind that he is not strong enough to achieve this feat, but to say so might mean it won’t happen, so he stays silent. His heart races, watching as Phil finds his suit jacket a few feet away, and rummages in the pocket for a hidden bottle of lubricant. Dan wonders if he’s got any other exciting objects in there, but doesn’t dare ask.

So Dan is forced to watch, silent and unmoving, as Phil tilts up onto his knees above Dan, shucks off his underwear, and reaches between his legs to insert two lube-slicked fingers inside himself. It’s utter torture, and Dan’s eyes sting from how badly he wishes he could reach up and touch, bite, kiss, claim him. But he does none of this, just watching, mind blurred from lust, as the Adonis above him prepares himself for Dan.

“D’accord,” Phil says after what seems like centuries. “Je suis prêt. Ne bougez pas.”

Don’t move. As if that’s even a possibility, Dan thinks as Phil adjusts their positions, and then carefully sinks down onto Dan’s cock. It’s blinding, and consuming, like a meteor dazzling across his vision, obscuring everything else. Burrowing into Phil’s tight, warm body is akin to no other sensation. Dan feels sounds slipping from his mouth, feels tremors undulating through him, and still Phil engulfs him in a slow, steady swallow, until Dan has bottomed out entirely, and Phil is speared on his cock.

“Oh, for the love of fuck, please move,” Dan begs. Maybe it’s because Dan’s been so stressed, or because despite talking aloud, and making demands no less, he hasn’t actually moved his hands from where Phil pinned them. Whatever the reason, Phil does start to move his hips, in small increments at first, shifting up and down, and then gradually increasing the speed. “Oh, fuck. Oh, God.”

It’s when Phil shifts his angle, and then tips his head back to gasp, that Dan can’t help himself. His hands fly out to grab at Phil’s thighs, to feel his hips shift as he moves them. Seconds later, he remembers that this is not allowed. Despite his own flush, and the glassiness of his eyes, Phil is coherent enough to recognise that Dan has broken the rules, and grabs him by the hands, pinning them up above his head again. This time, he holds them there as his hips work, pulling Dan to the precipice of a cliff with each thrust downwards, grinding himself onto Dan’s cock. It’s Phil’s moans that throw him over the edge. It’s the flutter of his eyes, the slackening of his mouth as the tip of Dan’s erection grazes his prostate. He is a corrupted angel, fallen into iniquity, and Dan cannot bear the sight of it. He cries out as he comes, hips pushing himself as far into Phil as he can manage.

As his body slackens, the tremors slowing and stilling, Dan relaxes into the blanket beneath them, shuddering as the aftershocks ebb through him. He looks down; Phil hasn’t come - looks as if he intended to resist all along - and extricates himself from Dan carefully.

“You broke the rules,” Phil says, making Dan’s spent cock twitch again. “You moved your hands.”

Dan’s mouth is dry, but he manages, “I’m sorry.”

“Tu veux me faire jouir?” Phil asks, and Dan’s heart skips a beat, as it always does when Phil talks to him this way. Filthy and unabashed, not even a light flush against his pale skin. Dan nods, emphatically, and Phil’s smile grows wide. “Trente secondes.”

At once, Dan jumps to attention, leaping for Phil’s lap with such enthusiasm that Phil can’t help but laugh. It’s a kind punishment, really, as Phil is well aware by now how much Dan absolutely loves sucking him off. Before Phil, he’d never have dreamed he’d find it so pleasurable, but now he can’t get enough of it. Phil jokes, from time to time, that he’s more at home at floor level than Buffy is.

In the many, many opportunities Phil readily gives him to indulge himself in his favourite activity, Dan has gotten… pretty fucking good at it, if he does say so himself. He knows Phil’s tells, can switch techniques expertly just by listening to the shift in Phil’s breathing. But thirty seconds to make him come is a tall order, particularly as Dan prefers to draw it out.

Nevertheless, he does his best, head bobbing, keeping a tight seal around the girth of him, using one hand to meet his lips as he sinks down. Before he knows it though, Phil is tapping him on the back of the head.

“T-time’s up,” he says, sounding a little breathless himself. In the second that follows, Dan makes a snap decision. He continues sucking, tongue laving at him as he goes. He doesn’t bother wiping the spit that drips from his lips, and doesn’t respond when Phil taps him again, and says, “Dan. That’s thirty seconds- oh, oh merde.”

Dan can feel the give in him, can sense when he decides to just abandon that incredible willpower he has and let Dan pull him off the cliff as well. Phil plummets down into the ocean of bliss beneath, flooding Dan’s mouth with his release, and groaning loudly, his hands tangling in Dan’s hair. He swears several times in French, and then releases Dan, letting him slide off.

Dan sends him a sheepish, but pleased, look as he wipes his chin. “Sorry,” Dan says, and doesn’t mean it for a moment. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“Bitte salope,” Phil says, but fondly, teasingly, and reaches his arms out wide, so Dan tackles him to the floor. “I’ll have to punish you again,” Phil says, trailing his fingers through Dan’s curls. “But I guess it can wait until after your big fancy opening.”

“Very gracious of you,” Dan says, laughing, then sighs happily, pressing lips to Phil’s chest. “I needed that. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Phil replies with a giggle. “It’s very taxing for me, obviously. But for you, anything.”

Dan swats him gently. “If you weren’t so hot and great in bed, you’d probably be a right pain.”

“Je t’aime aussi, chaton.”

In the middle of the party, just as Dan is about to grab one of the wait staff he hired and ask him why he’s been having to top up his own wine glass all night, a familiar, loud and obnoxious voice booms out from nearby.

“Mr Howell!”

Even the sound of that name is enough to make Dan shudder. In this environment, he’s simply Dan. He only TA’s at school a few days a week now thanks to PJ’s unwavering support and understanding, so most of the time Dan can forget he’s got an awkward, stern twin personality, charged with looking after a bunch of teenagers. He looks around, trying to place the voice in his mind, and failing.

Then, in the centre of the room, a young man stands between a few curious patrons, their heads turned to find out who is shouting in the midst of all the quiet, appreciative murmuring. Even staring him full in the face, it takes Dan a while to figure out who this person is, familiar though he seems. Then, his brain helpfully removes the heavy beard from the man’s chin, shrinks him down a few feet, and strips away the pyjama-like clothing, dressing him in a school blazer instead.

“Jonah,” Dan breathes, astounded. Before he can think anything more, Jonah Frank is storming over to him, a grin peering out from within the thick, unruly beard. Two impossibly strong arms wrap around him, thumping him on the back. “Oh my God,” Dan says, “what on earth are you doing here?”

“Came to support you, teach!” He releases Dan, jostling him by the arm.

“I hardly recognised you,” Dan admits, still baffled that the brawny but short kid he once chaperoned to Paris and back has somehow morphed into this stoner-dude, with long hair and a full beard. “You look, uh... nice tunic.”

Jonah laughs heartily, plucking a canapé of some kind off a nearby tray and seeming to swallow it whole. “Thanks,” he says, still grinning. “I’m at uni now, innit. Decided to reinvent myself.”

Dan chuckles, but then re-examines what Jonah just said. “Wait, you’re at uni?”

“Don’t sound so shocked, Sir!”

“Dan,” Dan says, blushing. “Call me Dan, we’re not in school now.”

“Oh yeah, guess you’re right! Weird.” Jonah is looking around, nodding as if impressed, as he takes in each artwork. “This is pretty decent if you ask me, Sir. I mean, Dan.”

Dan smiles at him. “Thanks, Jonah. It was really sweet of you to come.”

“Aw, don’t be a nonce,” Jonah responds, batting Dan in the shoulder. “You’re the reason I got into uni at all! Well, you and Mr Lester, obviously.”

It’s an absurd thing to say, and Dan has no idea where to begin responding to it, so he catches a waiter’s eye and waggles his glass, indicating he needs more alcohol, stat. “What are you studying?”

Jonah grins, then clears his throat. He pinches his thumb and forefinger together, accenting himself as he says, “L’histoire Francaise!”

Dan’s eyes bulge, and he almost drops his glass when a waiter, appearing at his shoulder, begins to fill it. “Is that… are you actually?”

“I swear,” Jonah says, readily accepting a second glass of wine from the waiter. Instinctively, Dan reaches to pluck it from him again, but Jonah pulls it out of reach. “Oi, I’m eighteen! I just told you I’m at uni, remember? Keep up, Sir.”

“Oh right,” Dan says, shaking his head. “Sorry.”

“No worries,” Jonah says. “So, where’s Mr Lester these days, then? I heard he’s not teachin’ at school anymore. Did he come to his senses in the end? Or did you scare ‘im off?”

The lack of tact in that question is so blunt that Dan sincerely hopes Jonah knows this is not the case and is just teasing him. He opens his mouth to respond, but before he does, a voice at his side butts in.

“If Mr Howell and I can survive your meddling Jonah, I think we’ll make it.”

“Ah, there he is!” Jonah cries out, arms thrown around Phil before Dan can blink. “Missed you, Sir. Uni’s got some well shit professors. When you gonna come and teach in the big leagues, eh?”

“Give it a year or two,” Dan says, aiming a loaded look at Jonah. Phil nudges him in the side, but doesn’t contradict the statement.

“Oo-er,” Jonah says, stepping back and draining his wine. “And here I was worryin’ that without me you two’d be lost!”

“Oh we are,” Phil says, smiling. “In an emotional sense.”

Dan nods in agreement, and feels Phil’s arm wind around his waist. “Classroom Nine echoes with Jonah Frank’s timeless words of wisdom… ‘when’s lunch, Sir?’, ‘how come they didn’t just wash a bit in the Middle Ages, Sir?’...”

“‘Stop flirtin’ with your TA, Sir…’” Phil adds, then winks at Dan.

Jonah laughs good-naturedly, and they chat a bit more about his Uni, what he’s studying, how it’s all going. He seems to be enjoying his first year, and not just the partying side of it, either. Dan still doesn’t believe that Jonah is there because of him - for some reason, in his last two years at secondary school, Jonah knuckled down and actually left with a decent set of GCSE’s and an acceptance to a nearby college - but he’s immensely glad that he was there to see it all happen, and in some small way, to help.

“At least now you can say it wasn’t all a huge waste of time,” Phil says once Jonah has excused himself to go and wander round the few other rooms.

Dan looks puzzled. “What wasn’t?”

“Doing the TA thing,” Phil says, nodding in the direction Jonah disappeared. “You successfully transformed the school’s most troubled student into a typical, bong-smoking uni fresher.”

Dan snorts, rolling his eyes. “Wow, I’m truly a marvel at my unwanted profession.”

“It’s not your profession anymore,” Phil says; he’s got a stupidly lit-up expression on his face, like he’s bursting with something Dan suspects might be akin to pride. “This is what you do. It’s what you’ve always been meant to do.”

“Well, don’t jump the gun just yet,” Dan says, mind back on how many tickets are left at the door, and if he’s going to be able to pay the caterers and still make a profit. “It’s only the first night.”

“Dan, look around,” Phil says gently, and Dan surveys the room he’s stood in, which is crammed with people, all admiring the art, talking and laughing, the wine in their hands flushing their cheeks. “This is a huge success. It’s a fantastic start to a promising career. You’ve done it.”

Dan opens his mouth to argue, but the sight of Teddy and Tyler in the corner, bickering over the meaning of the abstract sculpture Dan had fought some collector for, he closes it again. They’re arguing over what they deem is art. They’re arguing because they see different things within it, and interpret it in separate, personal ways, in just the way art is supposed to prompt people to do. And Dan’s responsible for that argument, he’s responsible for their individual reactions that caused it. He placed that art in front of everyone here, for those reactions to spill out of people’s mouths, even in the form of a snappy retort.

“You know,” Dan says in a low murmur. “I think you might be right.”

Phil leans in and kisses him, excitable and without finesse. “Je t’aime, mon petit propriétaire de la galerie.”

Dan laughs, softly, against him, drawing back just enough to dive into deep, brilliant pools of pure blue. “Moi aussi, mon amour.”

Fin.

#l'histoire française #phan #phanfic #thank you all so much!!#five years later

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marsupials-of-mars · 6 years ago

Text

Nightmares

“What if you die? You get in a wreck, and you just die. What’s death like? What if they don’t like your new video? What if they hate it? What if your channel dies? How big really IS the universe? Does it end? And if it doesn’t, in the long run literally nothing you do matters. In a billion years someone who looks just like you could have the exact same life and it would be just as pointless-“

“Virge I know I’m nervous but it’s night and I can’t do anything about it so could you quiet down a bit?”

“Hey, I’m doing my job.”

“Can you work a bit less hard?”

Virgil sighed. He was laying next to Thomas, on top of the sheets. It was summer and he refused to take off his hoodie so blankets were a no go.

“If you insist.” They stayed in silence a while. “What if nothing happens when we die?”

“Look I know you’re trying but I’m tired.”

“Fair enough. Night man.”

“Night.”

Virgil patted Thomas’ shoulder and retreated into his mind. He rose in the hall and made his way to his room. He threw off his hoodie and pulled off his jeans, falling onto his bed. His favorite part of the day, sleep. He rolled up in his sheets and sighed at the breeze from the fan playing with his bangs.

After a bit of laying in bed, humming to himself, and tossing and turning, he realized he wasn’t tired. At all. And he knew what that meant. He groaned and rolled over, willing himself to drift off, but no luck. He let out a long sigh and rolled out of bed. He slid his feet into his black slippers and threw open the door. Usually he’d never leave his room without his hoodie much less without pants, but if there was one person in the entire world who’s opinion of him he didn’t give a rats ass about, it was this little shit. He trudged down the hall toward a black and sickening hot pink door. He tried to yank it open, but the knob wouldn’t turn. He smirked. Might as well have a little fun if he had to deal with the night shift. He put on a gross snooty accent and leaned dramatically on the door. He did a great Roman impression.

“Rem, open up! Dream time! Let’s party!” He heard an excited shout from somewhere inside.

“Give me some warning you bitch, I just finished working out I’m a mess!” The lighthearted name calling made Virgil gag.

Too cutesy, too social. He heard the knob jiggle and stood up from his Roman pose. The door flew open.

“You have no idea how-nnGAAH!” Remy fell backward and dropped his iced coffee. “ANXIETY! Where’s Roman?!”

Virgil snorted. He blinked down at the coffee covered Remy, tank top, hot pink sweat bands and all. “He couldn’t make it. I’ve got the night shift.” Remy gulped. “Believe me buddy I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here. A jobs a job.”

“F-fine. Come in. But don’t touch anything.”

Virgil brushed past Remy who jumped back like he was poisoned. He plopped on the couch and stretched out his skinny, sickly pale arms and legs. Remy opened his mouth like he was about to protest, but decided against it.

Virgil sighed. Remy had hated him as long as he could remember. Not just like the others had hated him, the twerp acted like he was an actual monster. He was scared of him. He couldn’t tell why, but if he had to choose one of the sides, or whatever sleep was, to be afraid of him, it would be Remy. He never had a desire to be friends with him. Their personalities did NOT line up. But he did like terrifying him. If he had to put up with screaming he’d make it for a good reason. He dropped his new-ish friendliness he used with the sides and reverted to good ol’ scream-at-the-sight-of-him Virgil.

“S-so...” Remy tried to regain his composure. “Should we get to it?”

“Nah... we’ve got all night.”

“I don’t want you in my room.” Even with the confident words, his voice tapered off into a squeak halfway through the sentence.

“Rude. You’ve got such a fun place, a soft couch... a wall mounted flatscreen?” He looked at the tv. “You like horror movies right?”

Remy shook his head. Virgil chuckled.

“Aw, poor little Remington.”

“I...I mean if you want-“

“Great!” Virgil grabbed the remote and pulled up The Shining. “Im more into physiological horror, less blood and guts. If there’s too many jumpscares...well... I go a little...” His eyes went black and he hissed, clawing at the air. Remy shrieked and jumped back, tripping over the coffee table. Virgil chuckled. “So yeah, I don’t think that’d be too great an idea. This ones a classic. Cmon, sit.”

Remy conjured a frappe and sat on the couch, keeping a good few feet from Virgil. “Mkay. But I’ll be doing my nails.” He seemed to be getting a bit more comfortable.

“Mhm. Sure.” Virgil hit play. As he watched the movie, Remy started to relax a bit more. He painted his nails a deep red and used a toothpick to add tiny white hearts on each thumb. He adorned them with a few black sequins. His movements were so smooth and precise. Virgil hadn’t noticed that he’d stopped watching the movie. Remy looked up.

“Oh... like them?”

Virgil’s eyes darted up to meet Remy’s. “No. But you’re good at that.”

A slight smile pulled at the corners of Remy’s lips. “Yeah, it took a while to master. Ro made me this book of different designs he’d come up with, we do each other’s all the time.”

“Huh...” Virgil thought a moment. He paused the movie. It wouldn’t hurt... “do you have black?”

He saw Remy’s eyes brighten. “Udoy, I have pretty much any color you can think of.” He seemed proud. It was almost cute.

“Do you think you could do mine...?”

Remy seemed confused a minute but slowly smiled. “You’re kidding.” Suspicion crept onto his face. “Is this a trick...?”

“No, not at all. I’ve actually thought about doing it for a while but it seemed a little... out there. For me.”

Remy blew a raspberry. “You wear eye shadow, I don’t think a mani would be too out there.”

Virgil flushed. “What are you trying to say about my makeup?”

Remy’s smile faltered. “Oh, no that’s not what I meant, I’m saying you’re braver than you think you are. Though your eyeshadow it’s kind of...messy.”

Virgil bristled and brought a hand to his face protectively. “I like it!”

Remy put his hands up. “I do to, I like it, I’m just saying it could use a professional touch!”

Virgil blinked. “You want to do my makeup?”

“Um, yes, I have so many ideas! Well, Ro Ro helped design them, but I’ve wanted to try them out for so long!” Remy conjured a binder titled ‘Nails and Makeup for Rem’. He set it on the coffee table and thumbed through it with his coffee free hand. Virgil watched over his shoulder. The pages were full of Romans drawings, first all kinds of nail designs, then the sides faces, colored and shaded with makeup to fit their personalities. Remy stopped at Virgil’s section. “There’s like, literally a billion of you, you’ve got all sorts of potential!” He grinned. His eyes sparkled with passion. Virgil blushed.

“I always thought you kind of... hated me?”

“Oh, I do, you terrify me physically and emotionally and are overall a wet blanket, but I’m obsessed with your character!”

“My character?” He decided to ignore the previous bits.

“Dark, brooding, scared, troubled, badass, that kind of look is so fun to do! I LIVE for that shit!”

Virgil thought about it. He nodded, slightly red in the face. “Okay. Go ahead.”

Remy pulled out a bottle of black nail polish and set Virgil’s hand on his leg. He looked at the dark side’s nails and furrowed his brows.

“Oh... you’re... you’re a biter aren’t you?”

Virgil looked down. He’d forgotten about that.

“Oh yeah... is that really bad?”

“No... no it just means we get to try something even cooler!” He pulled out a few oddly shaped plastic sheets, a brush, a container of powder, and a glass of water. “This’ll take a while but it’ll be worth it! I won’t need the black paint because I’ve got a black acrylic, I’ll just gloss and decorate it.”

“Acrylics? Fake nails?” Virgil raised a brow.

“Trust me you’ll love them, I’ll give you some manageable stiletto nails, they’ll look like claws, you’ll LOVE them trust me hon.”

“Fine, Fine...” Virgil watched as he sculpted and UV dried and filed and glossed and adorned them with purple rhinestones. Virgil resumed the movie and sipped an iced black coffee Remy had made for him. It took all in all a couple hours.

“Done!” Remy revealed his handiwork. The nails were each about two inches and filed to a point. They were glossed with minimalist design: The thumbs were tipped with violet, And each cuticle was dotted with a tiny purple jewel. Virgil stared at them. He smiled. “Nice...”

“He likes them!” Remy clapped his fingertips. Virgil shrugged.

“Guess so. Makeup?”

“Fuck yeah!” He took off his sunglasses revealing simple but perfect eyeliner framing dark pink eyes. Virgil stared. He chuckled. “I know, I’m gorgeous.” He clipped his glasses on his shirt and pulled out a bottle of makeup remover and a makeup bag. “Keep your eyes closed.” Virgil closed his eyes. He could still feel Remy’s hesitance in the cotton ball on his skin, which was fine. He wasn’t there to make friends. He kept his eyelids still as he felt eyeliner and mascara being applied, then eyeshadow. It took a few minutes. Remy fanned his face, tossing his bangs around in the breeze.

“Aaaand open!” Virgil opened his eyes to a mirror in his face. Remy grinned from behind it. “Like it?” Virgil stared at himself. His lashes were unbelievably thick and long with thick black mascara. He didn’t even know they were that long in the first place. His eyeliner was winged and precise. The best part was the eye shadow, it was smoky, Black to silver to violet. He blinked and stared in awe.

“Like it?” Remy repeated himself.

“Mhm...yeah. Thanks man...” He felt awesome. Gorgeous. “Want to make some nightmares?”

Remy’s smile faltered. “Yeah.”

“I’ll keep it mild.” Virgil rubbed his thumbnail. Remy lightened a bit.

He tailed Virgil as he walked to a door and opened it into darkness. They walked in and Virgil shut the door. “Okay Remington, give it to me.”

Remy pulled out a few folders. “Hmmm... he recently discovered what a goblin shark is.” Virgil nodded and pulled the shark from the folder, enlarging it to the size of a school bus. He conjured a dream Thomas and encapsulated him in a tiny submarine. He filled their surroundings with murky ocean. Remy shivered.

“And um... he’s been having back pains-“

Virgil twisted dream Thomas’ spine into a crooked mess.

“Give me another. Maybe some company.”

Remy gulped. “Um...” he thumbed through folders. “His friend Terrence is moving away.”

Virgil closed his eyes a moment and took a breath. “I’m more than aware...” he plucked Terrence from the folder and shoved him into the sub with Thomas. “He gets eaten first.”

“Are you sure-“

“I’m sure. My job is fear.” Virgil darkened the ocean a bit more and added two pure black giant squid. He blinded the submarine with schools of dead fish. He quickly wrote a script. “Perfect.” He locked the dream into place and hit play. With a moment of thought, he slapped his hand over Remy’s terrified eyes before the bite came. He ushered him out of the room and locked the door.

“What was that?!”

“I didn’t think you’d want to see the shark take a chunk out of Terrence.”

Remy gulped. “Well... thanks.”

“No problem.” He began to head to the door.

“Don’t you want to stay for the showing?” Remy motioned to the tv.

“Nah, I wrote the script. And I’m tired.” He grabbed the doorknob. He paused a moment. “Thanks. For the makeup. And the nails.”

“No prob Virge. Does this make us... friends?”

Virgil gagged. “No, never, and don’t call me Virge.”

Remy shrugged. “Sounds good. But if you do ever want to swing by for a makeover, I’d be up to it.”

Virgil smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He walked out and shut the door behind him.

He made his way to his room and laid down, but before he got to sleep he rose in Thomas’s bed. He looked over to see him panting and sweaty.

“Nightmare?” Virgil smiled slightly in the dark. Thomas spoke through breaths.

“Yeah...”

“Sorry.”

Thomas sighed. “It’s fine...” He hugged Virgils side. In ten minutes or so of steady breathing and happy thoughts, he drifted off. Virgil smiled. That bitch was doing his job pretty well.

#virgil sanders #sanders sides #thomas sanders #remy sanders #sleep sanders

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