#or else why would there be four of them hm? exactly. i better not catch any hatred towards any of the main people | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fiorimaya · 10 months

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Could you do a Dr Teeth x Reader where Teeth overhears the reader practicing confessing with another band member and gets jealous because he thinks it’s for that member and not him? Any pronouns for the reader works

Sure thing! Hope you enjoy! :)

You pace back and forth in front of the window, arms crossed against your chest. There was something on your mind... something that had been on your mind for quite some time now... but you weren't exactly sure how to deal with it.

You had known Dr. Teeth for a while, and it hadn't taken long for you to realize one night that you were catching feelings for him. Those feelings had grown stronger and stronger. There was only one problem... you wasn't sure he felt the same. But one thing you learned from the good doc himself, if nothing else, was to always be honest about how you felt. So there you were, pacing in front of the window trying to figure out how to do that exactly.

"Y/N? What are you doing up?" A voice from across the room spoke.

You stopped pacing and looked at the trumpet player standing at the bottom of the steps, visible from the glow of the lamp on a nearby table you'd turned on when you came down.

You sighed and sat down in the windowpane. "Just thinking."

Lips didn't hesitate to come over and sit beside of you, gently placing a hand over yours. "It's just after four in the morning and you're up with your thoughts, so... whatever it is must have you pretty worked up."

You shrugged. "I mean, I'm not upset or anything. I'm just... nervous? There's something I need to do but I'm not sure how."

"Hm..." Lips shifted to face you, letting one leg bend and rest inside the window. "I might be able to help you more if you don't mind sharing what exactly it is you need to do."

You swallowed hard and finally looked up at him. "I need to tell someone I like them. In that way, you know?"

Lips raised his eyebrows and nodded, a small smirk creeping across his face. "But you're not sure if they feel that way too?" He asked. You nodded and looked down again. With that, he leaned forward and whispered. "It's Teeth, isn't it?"

Your eyes widened as you looked at him. You didn't even have to give a verbal answer; his suspicion was confirmed by the red across your cheeks. Finally, you spoke. "How did you- is it that obvious? Does anyone-"

"No, no one else thinks it that I know of," he answered, knowing exactly what you were going to ask. "I just noticed subtle things. And I know how close you two are, so I just assumed."

You stared across the room for a moment. "You know, he always says to be honest about how you feel."

"That he does," Lips agreed.

"So how do I do it?"

Lips pondered for a moment. "Why don't you try practicing with me?"

You considered it; having something rehearsed would most likely make you feel better. After that, all you'd have to worry about would be Teeth's response. Finally, you nodded. "Okay, yeah."

You turned to face him, mirroring his position. But somehow, the words just weren't coming. Not those specific words, anyways. "I don't even know how to start..."

"Hm... maybe you can start with: 'I need to tell you something, but I'm not sure how you'll react.' Then, of course, he'll ask what's going on. Then go from there. Just speak from your heart. Another lesson from him, huh?"

You giggled a bit as you nodded. Speak from my heart you thought. Then you took a deep breath before starting your little rehearsal.

Teeth had been tossing and turning all night, unable to even doze off. He sighed and looked over at his clock, seeing it was shortly after four. Realizing Janice would be awake now, as she was always up around four, he made his way to her room and knocked gently.

"What's up?" She asked him, upon opening the door.

"What's the tea that's supposed to help you sleep? You still got some?"

"Chamomile. Fer sure. Top cabinet on the right."

"Thanks," he said, before starting to the top of the stairs. That was when he heard your voice.

"Okay, okay," he heard you say. "I need you tell you something, but I'm not sure how you'll react."

"What's going on?" He heard Lips speak.

He remained on one of the top stairs, listening to the conversation. Lips? He thought to himself. Y/N has feelings for... for Lips? That tea was a distant memory then. He turned and walked slowly back to his room, accidentally slamming his door behind him. He wasn't angry, not in the slightest. Just the thought of you loving someone else while he loved you hurt, and it hurt badly.

You and Lips both heard the door slam and it made you jump. Lips leaned and looked up the stairs, not seeing anyone. "Everything alright?" He called.

Janice appeared on the stairs then. She had stepped out of her room to see what was going on. "I think that was just Teeth. He came to like, get some tea because he can't sleep. We know how his mood is when he like, doesn't get enough sleep."

When she returned up the stairs, you and Lips looked at each other. Lips looked at you confused. "Teeth never came down though."

"I know... oh no... what if he heard me practicing with you?"

Lips' mouth gaped open. "And thought you were saying it to me?!"

"Oh no... I need to go talk to him. Now!" You stood up, and that was when you realized... if he didn't like you back, why would that upset him?

"Y/N, before you do so..." Lips started. You looked back at him, and he continued. "Hopefully you'll feel better about it when I tell you... he feels the same about you. He told me so a while back."

You smiled as your assumption was confirmed. The weight you felt on your shoulders half an hour prior was gone. Now, you knew what to say to Teeth. Even better, you knew he felt the same way. Now once you got things settled with him, everything would be perfect.

"Thank you, Lips!" You beamed before racing up the stairs. You knocked softly on Teeth's door.

After a moment, he opened it and looked at you, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

You frowned. "What's wrong?" Though you knew the answer, you didn't want to jump right into that conversation.

He sighed and walked to his bed, sitting on it. When you sat beside of him, he answered. "Nothing."

"You yourself said to always be honest about how you feel," you reminded him.

"I'm feeling somethin' and I don't like it," he said. "Jealousy."

You bit your lip trying to fight a giggle. "Jealous of me and Lips? You heard us talking?"

His eyes widened as he looked at you. "How- what-"

You giggled then. "Teeth, I don't love Lips. I love you! I was thinking of how to tell you and Lips let me practice with him."

His face lit up then, and he was unsure what to say at first. "You- you love me?!"

You giggled more as you nodded. "Very much so. And Lips told me you felt the same, which is how I knew... I hope you don't mind. I was stressin' because I wasn't sure you felt the same. I probably would have chickened out if I didn't know."

He shook his head in disbelief and then pulled you close to him in a tight embrace. You giggled as he planted little kisses on your head. Then, he pulled away and grinned at you. "Well then... now that that's settled, there's only one thing left to do. Y/N?"

"Yes?" You grinned back at him.

"Will you be my (term for significant other of your choice)?"

"Yes! Absolutely yes!" You giggled loudly as you threw your arms around him.

He hugged back before falling backwards on his bed with you, his arms still firm around you. "Woo, finally!" He laughed.

You nuzzled your face into his chest before letting your head rest against it and giggling again. "You know, I think it's so cute how jealous you got over me."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, rolling his eyes playfully with a laugh. "Can you blame me though? You're perfect."

#request #ask #the muppets #the muppets fanfic #the muppets dr. teeth #dr teeth the muppet #electric mayhem #the electric mayhem #dr teeth and the electric mayhem #the muppet show #dr. teeth #canon x reader #dr teeth x reader #dr. teeth x reader #fanfic #fanfiction request #fanfiction requests

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crypt-tids · 2 years

Text

A Gift Unto the King

Chess

“Check!” Vin called out, playfully, sword held offensively against Lucas’s.

With a sly grin, and one fluid, sweeping motion, Lucas redirected the prince’s blade and spun around behind him. The cool edge of his sword delicately rested against the back of Vin’s neck.

“Check mate.” Lucas corrected, his tone smug and confident.

Vin sighed and dropped his sword, as Lucas removed his from the vampire’s neck.

“You’ve bested me again, it seems.” He glanced over his shoulder at the sweat soaked knight behind him.

Lucas tossed his sword aside, and wiped the sweat from his brow. He panted heavily, trying to catch his breath. Vin may have lost, but he was still a formidable opponent.

“I always do.” The knight joked, with a crooked grin.

Vin laughed, sitting down on the fluffy, green grass to rest, as Lucas did the same. The midday sun had tucked itself behind a large cloud, providing some much needed relief. Vin drew a deep breath, the air saturated with the sweet scent of freshly bloomed honeysuckles. Lucas sneezed as a gnat flew up his nose.

“Damn bugs!” He exclaimed, frustratedly rubbing his itching nose, which made Vin snicker.

It had been nearly four years since Lucas came to the castle, and in that time, he and the prince had become rather close. They would regularly train together whenever Vin didn’t have other royal obligations to attend to, and vice versa. Lucas had done well to sharpen his skills, and was rapidly becoming one of the king’s best soldiers. He never stepped a foot out of line, and followed every order with impeccable execution. Not a day went by that the young knight didn’t seem happy to be there.

“Sir Lucas?”

“Hm?” He turned his head to face the prince, who was currently admiring a small beetle scurrying through the grass.

“I never asked you… why did you want to become a knight, anyways?”

Lucas eyed the man for a moment, who’s gaze never left the scuttling insect, as he thought of an adequate response.

“Isn’t that every man’s dream?” He replied, noncommittally. Vin turned towards Lucas, clearly unsatisfied by the non-answer he’d received.

“No, it’s not.”

Lucas shifted his gaze away from the prince, his formerly cheerful expression now fading. He mindlessly tugged at a blade of grass, rolled it in his fingers, then flicked it aside.

“I come from a small village on the outskirts of the kingdom. There’s not much money there, but the people are good.” He exhaled forcefully through his nose. “My fathers… they’re brilliant blacksmiths. Just as their fathers were before them. It’d be hard to find better blacksmiths anywhere, save for Elvenwood.” He cracked a small smile, which lingered only briefly before, once again, disappearing. “But… people don’t look too kindly on cursed blood.”

Vin’s eyes fell. He had the luxury of royal lineage, so he was well enough removed from the atrocities that befell commoners bearing curses. He knew life was harder for cursed people, but it was something he could never truly understand. His family had attempted to make their kingdom a safe haven for those bearing cursed bloodlines, but that didn’t necessarily erase the hatred for them.

“Being a werewolf… people already don’t trust us. Think we’re just some savage, animalistic beasts, with no self control.” He sighed. “Maybe they’re right. I mean, look at me.” Lucas shrugged, gesturing to himself. “I’m covered in scars, and I’ve left a fair few myself.”

Vin’s brows furrowed as his eyes ran over the visible scars on Lucas’s body. He’d somehow never realized that those marks came from other werewolves.

“On the full moon, my kind… we’re not exactly friends. But the rest of the time, no one else is friends with us. So most everyone in my village shared the same curse. It was a place we could all exist and feel understood. Sure, we were poor, and mostly had to trade for the things we needed, but it worked.”

“So, why did you leave?” Vin asked.

Lucas frowned, not quite sure whether or not he wanted to share something so personal. But, after a moment of quiet deliberation, he figured it would be best to just be honest about it.

“My whole life I’ve felt worthless, because that’s how the world saw me. It never mattered what my fathers did, what I did, what anyone in my village did, people still feel like the world would be a better place if we weren’t in it.” He let out an unamused, half laugh. “I guess that’s the point of a ‘curse’, huh?”

Vin’s heart sank in his chest. The young knight’s disposition had always been so pleasant. If he hadn’t heard the words spill from Lucas’s mouth himself, he never would have believed his mind could contain so much torment.

“I guess I just… wanted to be useful.” Lucas smiled, but it did poorly to conceal the sadness behind it.

“A person’s worth doesn’t come from how useful they are to others, you know.” Vin stared off into the field, watching the trees sway in the gentle breeze. “It comes from the kindness, and good intentions of their heart. It comes from a life happily lived. So whatever you choose to do in this life, make sure you’re doing it for you.”

Lucas was at a loss for words. In all his life, no one had ever once spoken to him that way. Not a single person had ever alluded to him that he had any real worth at all. He came from a world where everyone he knew was the same. A place where everyone had grown to feel about themselves the way that the world had felt about them. Yet here he sat, beside a prince, only two years his senior, who already held the wisdom of an old crone.

“Are you happy with the choice you’ve made to come here?” Vin asked, still watching the dancing leaves.

“I am, Your Highness.” Lucas grinned, shifting to watch the swaying trees with him. “Because if I hadn’t, I never would have met you.”

Lucas awoke to heavy rain pounding the roof of his modest home. Despite the nagging swirl of nausea resting firmly in his stomach, he felt the most at peace he’d felt in a while. He rolled over onto his side, tightly gripping his pillow, as his eyes fell to the bottle of elixir on the small wooden table beside his bed. He stared at it for a long while, before letting out a sigh.

Whatever you choose to do in this life, make sure you’re doing it for you.

Lucas laughed in his throat as Vin’s words echoed in his mind. A fair few years had passed since that day in the grassy field they’d spent together, but it still sat vividly in his memories.

As he listened to the rain fall, he closed his eyes and smiled. No matter what choice he made, as long as he made it for himself, he would never regret it.

Vin nibbled at his breakfast of warm bread and blood sausage. To be honest, blood sausage wasn’t very high on the list of foods he enjoyed. He’d much rather consume blood straight, however, the sausages were easier to store, and didn’t require his kitchen staff to slaughter livestock every morning. They worked hard enough as it was, there was no reason to make their lives any more difficult.

The king jabbed at the unappetizing sausage with his silver fork in a manner not denoting any intention of eating. Once he grew tired of rolling the ugly thing across his plate, he dropped the fork, and shoved the half eaten dish aside. He didn’t have much of an appetite, anyways.

“Your Majesty! Pardon my intrusion.” The servant bowed hastily.

“What is it?” Vin’s chin rested on his hand.

“We’ve received correspondence from Honterra.”

“Well, hand it over, then.” Vin held out his hand as the servant rushed to place the rolled parchment in it.

Popping the wax seal, he unfurled the slightly crinkled parchment to reveal only a few measly lines worth of flamboyant calligraphy.

To be delivered unto Valkevilla,

May the sins of your cursed blood be absolved by your death, and the death of all who condone it. By the witness of the gods that have spoken their will to me, it shall be done.

Blessed be King Wilfred of Honterra

Vin crumpled the parchment and threw it across the room, his lips curled into a menacing snarl. Anger boiled in his blood, and with an impulsive sweep of his arm, the plate of half eaten breakfast flew from the table, loudly clattering against the tile floor. Food debris bounced away from the plate, some landing near the servant, who now stood rigid and visibly shaken by the outburst. Vin clenched his fist tightly, stroking his chin with his knuckles as his gaze fixated on the plate.

“Leave.” He growled, and the servant nervously bowed, before scurrying out of the great hall.

Vin rested his head against his fist, closing his eyes as he attempted to calm his furious breath. The letter read like some paranoid delusion. As if he, and his people, were nothing short of a devilish scourge on this world. But what foundation could Wilfred possibly have to make such claims of sin? Three hundred years of peaceful coexistence were coming to an end at the hands of a warped man with a crown on his head.

Why now? Why wait? The king stroked his chin, the backs of his fingers lightly running across his lips. And why hasn’t this fuck ordered another attack?

He huffed and shook his head, pushing himself up from the table, and marching out of the great hall and up the stairs towards the solar. The words of the letter were singed into his brain. The uncharacteristically loud thumping of his boots could be heard throughout the castle, but he hardly noticed it over the sound of his own racing thoughts.

He slammed the solar door behind him, stomping towards the map covered table. His eyes shook so badly with rage that all of the lines were reduced to a blurred mess. He slapped his palms against the table with enough force to rattle the brass candelabra, which he then swiftly smacked from the table. Blood trickled from the large slice on the back of his right hand where it had caught a sharpened edge. Broken candles and wax shards now littered the wooden floor.

“FUCK!” Vin shouted, still unaware of the blood dripping from his wound. His rage had dulled his senses, causing the searing pain to go unnoticed.

Bastard! He cursed to himself.

After a moment of stewing, he hastily pulled out a hinged, wooden box with a checkerboard top. Flipping the latch, he dumped the contents onto the table. Black and white poly-stone chess pieces spilled across the map. Vin’s eyes sifted through the pieces until he found the one he was looking for—the king. Lifting the light-colored piece, he held it up to his eye line, admiring it smugly before closing his fist around it, and sweeping the others aside. With one forceful motion, he slammed the piece down onto the map, where it rested firmly in the center of Honterra.

Marion, having heard the commotion from the great hall, wandered in to find her son had already left. She scanned the room, noting the mess of food on the floor, to which an eager fly had already managed to lay claim. She then noticed the crumpled parchment, unassumingly resting a few feet from the wall. She wondered if this might have been the root of the morning’s disruptions.

Reaching down, she picked up the parchment, and unfolded it, attempting to smooth out the crinkles against her thigh. It was difficult to read, but she managed.

As she read, she lifted a hand to cover her mouth. She could hardly believe the words on the page, and read it through twice more to make sure she had read it correctly. The implications of the letter sat heavy on her heart. Honterra didn’t want land or riches, but merely to spill the blood of innocent curse-borns. To lay waste to generations worth of unfortunate souls who’s ancestor’s only crimes were to cross paths with spiteful witches. For centuries, they’ve lived with their misfortunes, finding ways to exist amongst humans peacefully, and Valkevilla was living proof it could be done.

Her hand trembled. So many emotions were racing through her, she couldn’t tell which was winning. She had held her suspicions against Honterra to herself since the murder of her husband, but now those suspicions had been confirmed, and to a degree much worse than what she had initially imagined.

The queen attempted to collect herself, to rationalize her thoughts. She needed to maintain a level head, as the future of her people depended on it.

To be so direct, so sudden, something must be at the root of it. Something has changed, but what? Her free hand twiddled with her pearl necklace. And for so much time to pass without another attack… could it be the king is acting solely of his own accord? I wonder…

The sudden realization that her son had read the letter as well pulled her from her thoughts. Gripping at her dress to lift it above her ankles, she ran off towards the stairs. Certain her son had locked himself away in the solar, she wasted no time in getting there. The door sat firmly shut, but she didn’t bother knocking, and forced her way in.

“Vin!” She exclaimed, out of breath. “Vin, darling-” Marion was overcome with the thick scent of blood that had permeated the air. She glanced at her son, who hadn’t yet acknowledged her, and saw the gash on his hand, still spilling blood. “My gods!” The queen rushed to his side, taking his bloodied hand into her own. “What happened?!” She glanced around the room, looking for some scrap cloth to bind his hand with. Coming up empty, she resorted to ripping a strip of fabric from the bottom of her chemise, and tightly tying it around the wound.

“He died because of his blood.” Vin stated flatly, wincing at the tugging of the fabric against his bruised and battered hand. “He was killed because he wasn’t… human.” His voice faltered.

Marion eyed the map, her son’s blood beginning to stain the edge of the vellum. Following Vin’s gaze, she noticed the little, white chess piece, firmly towering over Honterra. Sighing, she closed her eyes, brows twisted with concern.

“I know.” She whispered softly.

“I’m going to kill him.” Vin’s voice was more firm now, but broken on the back end.

Marion snapped her gaze up to her son’s face. His eyes were dark and hollow. The light had fully faded from them. This was his first real taste of the hatred the world had to offer curse-borns. She’d done well to shield him from it, but that time was over now. All that was left was the aftermath. The bloody, tragic, depressing, aftermath.

“I know.” She sighed. “But not today.”

“Why not?” He hissed sharply.

“Because if you do, you’ll die.” Her voice held an air of desperation.

“So what?”

“So what?” She repeated incredulously, shaking her head, as she pulled away from her son. “You’re the last of Valkevilla’s royal bloodline! It’s your job to protect your people! With you gone, what hope do you think will remain?” Her eyes bored into Vin, pleadingly.

“It’s my job to protect my people, which I cannot do as long as that man still draws breath!” His eyes finally met his mother’s. “How long do you think I can wait before more people die at his hand?”

“Think rationally, Vincent.”

The king’s eyes fell back to the chess piece. Marion could see his mind had been made up. Unwilling to admit defeat, she clenched her jaw and drew a sharp breath.

“There hasn’t been another attack.” She continued.

“Your point?”

“My point is that I’m not sure it’s wise to order a counter attack right now. Especially not if it would be putting our people into a precarious position.” She sighed. “What happened to your father was… tragic. But you can’t go around risking the lives of our people, of yourself, just because you want to avenge him!”

Vin stood tall, eyeing his mother, before approaching her. He leaned in so close, their faces were only inches apart, causing Marion to withdraw slightly.

“Do you honestly believe my father is all I fight for?”

Marion swallowed hard, studying her son’s hardened face. Her body trembled with apprehension, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. It was as though she had been stunned still.

“You may have taken from me that which I value most in this world, but you will not take away my desire to fight. Win or lose, live or die, I will gladly accept my fate, because I know what I’m fighting for. I know who I’m fighting for.” Vin pulled back, glaring intimidatingly down at his mother. “Because of you, I no longer fear death.”

Marion’s chin trembled, as she watched her son step away, his back now facing her. She began nervously twiddling with her pearl necklace again. To hear him speak in such a way, she was truly at a loss. He blamed her for so much, and rightly so. She wished she could take it all back, to let him live freely as he pleased, but she couldn’t. Valkevilla’s fate relied on Vin’s ability to play the game, and play it well. If only he understood the necessity of it all, perhaps he wouldn’t look so harshly on her. “If you die,” she spoke after a moment, “the sacrifices you made… they’ll be for nothing.” She bit her lip. “I know you hate me right now. And maybe you always will.” Her voice tapered at the end as her gaze fell to the window. “I’ve taken a lot from you. More than a mother should ever have to take from her child. But sometimes, we must do things we don’t want to do because it’s what has to be done.” Marion paused, attempting to collect herself again. “At least…” her gaze fell to the floor, “promise me you won’t rush into this. I know you’re going to kill him, I really can’t stop you from doing that. But please… be strategic about it.” She glanced up at her son, her eyes firmly fixed on the back of his head. “I’m begging you. Don’t run in there just to die.”

#a gift unto the king #knight au #mpreg #belly kink #tum kink #oc #vampire #werewolf #male pregnancy

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i-cant-sing · 3 years

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I'm in love with the idea of baby reader destroying the Zenin patriarchy one zoomie at a time. Imagine baby reader at dinner time asking where the twins' mom is and why she can't be at the table with the rest of them, and Naoya giving that poor excuse that women aren't allowed there. So baby reader is just like "I want to go eat with her!" And after arguing for about the whole duration of dinner, and after baby reader threatened to not eat anything, Naoya begrudgingly lets her go to where the women eat. He's like "whatever" at first, but then the chubby cheek withdrawal starts kicking in, so he's like "screw this" and goes eat with baby reader. Everyone else at the table is shaking their heads at him, but after a couple minutes, they start making up excuses to join baby reader.

"Oh, I should go make sure y/n is safe."

"I need to ensure y/n is eating healthy."

"I... need to make sure y/n breathes properly!" - the grandpa probably

Hmmmm yessssss. Okay let me set the scene for yall:

Its dinner time, and baby Fushiguro is escorted to the table by a maid. All the men are already sitting there, and you take your seat by Uncle Naoya.

The servants are bringing in the food as Naoya makes small talk with you, asking about your day. You tell him you were playing with Aunty Zenin (aka Zenin twins mom) and Naoya nods.

"Where's Aunty Zenin?" you ask Naoya who begins eating.

"In the other dinning room. With the other ladies."

"Why?"

The table falls into silence. Why? The men thought. The answer was always clear, but now that you've voiced the question, they don't know how to explain it to a child without sounding... mean.

How are they supposed to tell you that they don't think their women deserved to eat with them?

"Just eat your food, Y/n." Naoya tried to dismiss you.

"No. I wanna eat with the girls!"

"No. Now eat."

"But Aunty Zenin is there and-"

Naoya slammed his chopsticks on the table, making you jump. He turned towards you, staring you down. "I'm warning you for the last time, Y/n. You're not going to the other dining hall. You're going to eat here with us. Do I make myself clear?"

Naoya used his mean voice with you, the one he usually uses with servants, but rarely with you.

He and the men watched as your mouth formed into a pout and you looked down at your hands, and they could see your eyes get a little watery. But you were Toji's daughter, stubborn as hell, they noticed as you still didn't touch your dinner.

"Y/n. Eat your food." Ranta Zenin, the more soft spoken of the Zenin men tried.

You sniffled. "M' not hungry."

Your stomach growled loudly at that. Making the men smile a bit. At least you had a big appetite like them.

But Naoya was losing patience. "Y/n-"

"You can go." Naobito said, drinking his wine.

"What-"

"You." Naobito called the maid. "Take Y/n to the ladies dining." The maid nodded and held out a hand for you, but you quickly went to Naobito first and kissed his cheek, thanking him, making the older man laugh and pat your head. Taking the maid's hand, you left the room, but not before sticking out your tongue at Naoya, who had a death grip on his chopsticks.

"Why did you let her leave?" Naoya asked, mad that his father had undermined him in front of you.

Naobito only hummed as he sipped his wine. "If you didn't let her go, she would continue to pester you until you did. Its better if she goes now, let her get it out of her system, and she'll come back on her own."

That was what Naobito thought, as did his brothers. Naoya soon realised what his father meant. You'll come back on your own once you realise how bad it was with those soulless women.

But then you didn't join them for breakfast the next day. Or lunch. Or dinner. Maybe you'll come back after the day. But then one day turned into two, then three, then four.

By the sixth day, they were all on the edge. They all missed you, especially the older men since meal time was often the only time they got to spend with you. At least Naoya and Ranta got to be with you when they trained you.

What exactly was happening in that dinning hall for you to not come to them?

"I'm going to take a nap." Naobito said, after only taking a few swigs of his wine. "A little tired today. Enjoy lunch." He said, bidding farewell to the men.

After a few minutes, Ogi Zenin stood up, clearing his throat. "Ugh. The food tastes disgusting. I'm leaving." And the food did tasteless, all because of your absence.

Soon, Jinchi Zenin also left the room, excusing himself that he's got stuff do.

Now, it was just Naoya and Ranta, the latter smirking at the former.

"What are you smiling about?" Naoya asked, agitated.

"You miss her, don't you?" Ranta said, popping another piece of sashimi in his mouth.

"No, I don't. Shut up."

"Alright, if that's what you say, I'll believe you." Ranta said before standing up. "I don't know why you would lie to yourself though. There's no shame in missing Y/n. I mean, I miss her, your father and uncles miss her, you miss her,"

Naobito looked up from his plate, confused. "What do you mean they miss her? And stop saying I miss her. I don't."

Ranta began walking towards the door. "Oh really? Well, where do you think they all are now?"

Naoya frowned at him. He didn't mean- he didn't mean there in the dining room down the hall, did he?

Naoya stood up but Ranta stopped him. "Oh where are you going? I thought you didn't miss her."

"Shut up." Naoya pushed him out of the way and practically sprinted down the hall to the dinning room.

Sliding the door open, he was shocked to see everyone, EVERYONE from the Zenin clan in the room. His uncles were sitting next to their wives, Naobito was sitting in the head chair, drinking his wine and you were sitting in Aunty Zenin's lap, telling her a story you had heard from Naobito.

As it turned out, the ladies dinning room was far more fun than the men's. The women who already loved you, thought you were dumped by their men to their dinning hall. So, they made sure to make you laugh and play with you and tell you stories and do your hair, heart melting at your adorable face. Not to mention, they let you do zoomies in the dinning room.

Before you came along, the women like their husbands, would usually just eat in silence and the entire aura of the room was dark and gloomy. But with you, it was like a firecracker of happiness had went off in the room, lighting anywhere you went with you jolly and carefree nature.

As Naoya stood at the door, feeling betrayed that he was the last one to come while the others were enjoying their time with you. Without a care, Naoya went and plucked you off Aunty Zenin's lap, lifting you up in the air.

The room fell silent as they watched you recognise Naoya and struggle to get out of his hands. Clearly, you were still mad at him.

"Let go!" You said, wriggling in his huge hands.

"Why? Are you still mad at me?" Naoya asked, eyes sharp but a playful glint in them.

"Yes! Let go!"

"Hm, no. But I have a way to fix that." Naoya said, grinning evilly before tickling your sides.

You immediately went into a fit of laughter, telling him to stop.

"L-let go! St-stupid Uncle N-aoya! LET GO HAHAHAHAHA-!"you continued laughing.

"Are you still mad at me?"

"Yes!" Naoya continued tickling you, smiling at the way you were getting red.

In the middle of laughing and trying to escape him, your hands managed to catch Naoya's hair, and you tugged hard, making him finally stop.

"Stop! Fine, I'm not mad at you anymore." You said, trying to catch your breath.

Naoya smiled, rubbing his scalp where'd you tugged his hair. "Good." He said, before kissing your fat, chubby cheeks.

God, he missed them.

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dialovers-translations · 2 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Azusa Maniac [Epilogue]

ー The scene starts with a flashback of the orphanage

Azusa: ...Think you can drink some water...?

Kou: I’m not sure...Cough, cough!

Azusa: A-Are you okay...? ...Your fever has risen...Your forehead is burning.

Kou: ...Cough, cough...Ahー...Perhaps.

Azusa: Say, should we ask help from one of the higher ups? And tell them you’ve gotten sick.

Kou: ...No, don’t tell me. If they find out, I’m sure they’ll take me to the special room.

But...Cough, I don’t want that.

Azusa: ...? Wouldn’t that be in your best interest though...?

Kou: It’s not...Cough.

Azusa: ...?

( I wonder why? He could go to a special place to cure his illness. )

( He’d get better much quicker by going to get treatment than by suffering here? )

ー Yuma bursts into the room

Yuma: Haah, haah...Oi! Eat this!

*Thud*

Kou: Eh? ...Cough, eat what exactly?

Azusa: ...Is that meat?

Yuma: Exactly! This stuff is a rarity, you see!

Hehe, it wasn’t easy to get my hands on.

When you’re sick, you just gotta eat well, keep yourself warm and rest up, then you’ll get better in no time!

Azusa: ...? That’s a rare type of meat, right?

Yuma: Ah? Well, yeah...?

Azusa: Why won’t you eat it yourself then...?

Yuma: ...? What are you saying? We’re pals, right?

It’s not like this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so given the circumstances, it only seems normal to let Kou have it.

Azusa: ...Hm...?

Yuma: Come on, eat up already. It’ll turn hard if you let it cool down and it won’t be as good anymore.

Kou: ...Yeah. Thanks...Cough.

Yuma: Heh, no need to thank me! Get better soon, okay?

ー Ruki enters the room

Ruki: ...Oh, you’re all here.

Yuma: Yeah. ...Oh? Is that a blanket?

Ruki: ...

*Rustle*

Kou: ...It’s so warm. Thanks.

Ruki: This should help a little.

Kou: Yeah.

Azusa: ...Is that your blanket?

Ruki: Exactly.

Azusa: But you’ll catch a cold if you give it away...?

Ruki: Even if I get in bed, I can’t sleep anyway so it’s fine. No need to worry about me.

Azusa: ...? Why would you do that?

Ruki: ...Haah. Right...I remember now.

Azusa: ...?

Ruki: I assume you just don’t understand yet. However...I hope that one day, you’ll be able to comprehend.

Azusa: ...? Sure...?

ー The flashback ends

Monologue

ーー Back then,

I truly did not have the faintest clue,

as to why Kou, Yuma and Ruki did those things.

Regardless, the four of us began to spend more time together,

as I grew to understand as well.

...Or I tried to, at least.

However, perhaps I never quite understood,

the true meaning behind all of it.

I do not even understand myself,

let alone I could comprehend others.

I can see my destination up ahead,

however, I simply do not know,

how to reach it.

While at the same time the frustration,

only keeps building up inside of me.

More than anyone else ーー

I felt as if I did not know what to do with myself.

ー The scene shifts to the living room of the Mukami Manor

Yui: ...

( I wonder how things turned out this way? )

We were all just living happily together...

( Running into each other at school, going back home together, gathering around the dinner table at night... )

( Those peaceful days were so much fun. Yet now, they feel so far away. )

...Oh no...It’s not like I want to cry, but...Uu.

( I know crying won’t solve anything, but the tears won’t stop... )

ー Azusa enters the room

Azusa: ...Eve.

You were crying again, huh...?

Yui: ...!

*Rustle rustle*

Azusa: Don’t move, Eve. I’ll wipe them away for you...

*Rustle rustle*

Azusa: Nn...

Yui: ーー !!

( Did he lick my tears just now!? )

Azusa: ...Hey, smile?

Yui: ...

Azusa: I like your smile the very best. So please...Smile?

Yui: ...I can’t. I can’t possibly...smile right now.

I want to understand you. I want to help you.

But...I just can’t. I just can’t accept what you’ve done.

I just can’t agree with your decision to sacrifice your own brothers...

Azusa: ...

I see...I understand.

ー He steps back

Yui: ( ...I wonder if I pushed him away a bit too much? )

( But I want him to realize that he did something unacceptable... )

( Were the circumstances he was raised in simply too different from my own? The things which may seem normal to me, just don’t get through to Azusa-kun. )

( ...It’s painfully obvious to me now. That I truly had only been seeing one side of him. )

( I just feel so pathetic for believing that I understood him regardless...And above all, it makes me sad... )

*Rustle*

Yui: ...?

*Rustle*

Azusa: ...Huh...?

Yui: ( Ah...I see. He’s applying a bandage. )

*Rustle*

Azusa: ...Ah...

Yui: ( ...Seems difficult with just one arm... )

*Rustle*

Azusa: ...

Yui: ( ...! I can’t watch this any longer...! )

Azusa: ...Nn, why...?

ー Yui approaches him

Yui: Azusa-kun, give me those bandages?

...I’ll do it for you.

Azusa: ...Okay.

*Rustle*

Yui: ...

( ...I’m only helping him apply a bandage, but he looks so very happy. )

( I can’t help but feel sort of happy as well. )

( Because no matter how complicated I may feel right now, I still love him in the end... )

???: Heeh, it’s true. Just like Mertz told us.

Yui: ーー !?

( That voice...The Tsukinami’s... )

ー Shin and Carla walk up to them

Carla: That would appear to be the case.

Yui: ( ...I knew it. ...They’re the ones who made Azusa-kun... )

Azusa: ...I did as you wished, Carla-san.

Carla: Yes.

Azusa: What about your promise to give me power?

Carla: Not yet.

There remains one thing you must do.

Azusa: ...What is that?

Carla: Offer that woman to me. Using that knife of yours.

Azusa: Wha...!?

Yui: ーー !?

Shin: ーー Nii-san!?

Carla: If you can do that, Mukami Azusa. I shall grant you power.

Azusa: ...Ugh.

...Eve...

Yui: ...!

( Will he actually listen to what Carla-san asked of him...? )

Azusa: ...I...

Yui: ( ...No, Azusa-kun did the things he did to avoid having to give me up. ) ( While I can’t forgive his actions... )

( Still...I shouldn’t doubt Azusa-kun’s feelings towards me when he went to such extreme lengths. )

( I have to be the one who has faith in him till the very end...! )

...

*Rustle*

Azusa: ...Eh...?

Yui: ( I trust you, Azusa-kun. That you won’t give me to Carla-san... )

( ...So I’ll open my arms wide for you. )

( As proof of my trust. )

Azusa: ...Ah...Aah....

Carla: Make your decision, Mukami Azusa.

Azusa: ...Ugh.

*Cling*

Yui: ...Azusa-kun, listen...

I...trust you.

Azusa: ...!

*Cling*

Azusa: ...Ugh.

...I...can’t...

*Cling*

Azusa: I can’t...I can’t...do it...

Yui: ( Azusa-kun... )

Carla: ...Shin.

Shin: Yes, Nii-san?

Carla: Capture the woman.

Shin: Roger.

*Thud*

Yui: ...! L-Let me go...!!

Azusa: ーー ! Yui-san...!

Shin: Ahー Fuck. Don’t get in the way...ーー!

*THUD*

Azusa: Ahーー !!

*Thud*

Yui: Azusa-kun...!!

*Smack*

Shin: Yeah, yeah. You’d only be wasting your energy anyway, so can you do me a favor and behave?

Yui: Kuh...

( It’s true that I’m no match for him... )

( If I try to fight back in vain, I’m sure I’ll only pay the price with my life...! )

Shin: Exactly, be a good girl now.

Then I won’t have to waste my energy either, nor bother doing annoying shit.

Yui: ...

Shin: Mission accomplished over here, Nii-san.

Carla: Well then...Mukami Azusa. Come if you are ready. ーー To our manor.

ー They leave with Yui

Azusa: Why...?

How...?

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

<- [ Maniac 10 ] [ Ecstasy Prologue ] ->

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #azusa mukami #dark fate #diabolik lovers translation #dfazusamaniacepilog

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honeypiehotchner · 3 years

Text

intelligence & issues (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- chapter thirty-five

Welcome to the shitshow! Remember that I love y’all <3

Warnings: arguing, fighting, tension, angst

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist

Chapter Thirty-Five: I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you

The tearful phone call with your mom lasts for nearly four hours.

“I just don’t know what to do,” you admit. “I don’t want to leave the BAU.”

“I know, honey.”

“And I’m not going to,” you say firmly, wiping your cheeks on the back of your hand. “I didn’t let Trevor stop me from accepting that job with the BCI, I’m not letting this stop me from staying in the BAU. I’m better than that.”

“I know, baby.”

“And I want Aaron, I do, but if it’s at this cost, then I…” You don’t even want to say it out loud.

“Have you talked to him?” Your mom asks gently.

You shake your head. “Haley surprised him at the office earlier with Jack, so I’m sure he’s hanging out with Jack for the rest of the day. He might spend the night, too.”

“Hm,” your mom sighs. “Is he trying to get back together with her?”

“Not that I know of.” You pause. “I don’t think he is. I know him, he’d…he’d tell me if they were, right? Or if she had asked about it?”

“I want to say that he would, honey, but I don’t know. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and I know he loves you, but…”

“But what?”

“Marriage…” Your mom sighs. “When you marry someone, especially as young as the two of them were, the bond is different. Add a child into the mix and it’s…it’s hard to let go of.” She pauses. “I never told you this, but letting go of your father was the hardest decision I ever had to make.”

“You told me it was the easiest.”

“Because I had to tell myself that. If I told myself anything else, I wouldn’t have had the courage to leave. I had to convince myself I could do it, and that meant letting you know that I could. I didn’t want you to think our independence should be held hostage from us.”

“So you’re saying…”

“I’m saying, I know you love him, and I know he loves you. But you’re still young. And whatever your future looks like, as long as it has the best version of you, then it’s enough. Everything else will sort itself out. But you have to be there and be the best you before everything else can fall into place around you.”

+++

When you head into the BAU the next day, you go straight to Hotch’s office. You don’t stop at your desk, or Morgan’s when he calls out to you (though you do wave at him, and Emily too).

“Come in,” Hotch announces after hearing a knock, unaware that it’s you.

“Hey,” you say to get his attention. “Can we talk?”

Immediately, he stands, rounding his desk to gather you in his arms. “Hey, of course. I’m so sorry I couldn’t call you last night.”

“It’s okay,” you pause to accept his kiss. “I was on the phone with my mom for a while anyway.”

“Everything okay?” He asks.

“Yes and no,” you exhale nervously, stepping out of his arms, needing to ground yourself. “That’s why I came straight here.”

“Okay…” He steps over and shuts the door, gesturing for you to continue.

“When I was called into Strauss’s office yesterday, it wasn’t about being back. It wasn’t routine. It was because she knows about us.”

“I know.”

You freeze, mouth open and ready to speak, but you shut it slowly, processing his words. “What do you mean you know?”

“I talked with her yesterday before I left.”

“And you didn’t think to text me about it yesterday?”

Aaron watches you carefully. “If I recall correctly, you didn’t tell me the real reason Strauss talked to you either.”

“Because Haley was here with Jack!” You argue. “I wasn’t going to bring that up in front of them.”

“Okay, I understand.”

“What did Strauss talk to you about?” You ask, not wanting to stay near the topic of Haley for too long. “Was it just about her knowing about us?”

Aaron looks like he doesn’t want to answer, but you stare him down until he does. “Yes. And she asked if you had been…inappropriately pushing yourself onto me.”

“What?”

“I told her you had done nothing like that whatsoever,” he says quickly and firmly, wanting you to hear him. “But she did ask that your behavior be monitored for the time being.”

“For the— Hotch, are you kidding me? Don’t tell me you agreed to that?”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“You could’ve told her that our relationship is mutually consensual and none of her business.”

He gives you a look because you both know he couldn’t tell Strauss it’s “none of her business,” but you still wish he had. You could certainly never say something like that to her, but he could almost definitely get away with it. You’d be surprised if he hasn’t said something similar to Strauss before this.

“I didn’t want to confirm anything about us and risk your termination as an agent in the bureau.”

“Well, thank you for your concern, but Strauss very politely told me yesterday that I need to pick a transfer before she forces me out of here.”

“What?”

“She talked to me about transferring the entire time,” you cry. “She told me I’m young, I don’t need to go to extreme lengths to prove myself and better my skillset.”

“It’s true, you don’t.”

“She thinks I’m sleeping with you to do exactly that.”

Aaron sighs heavily. “I told her that you’re not.”

“She’s not going to believe it. She obviously didn’t believe you since my behavior is now going to be monitored like I’m a fucking child.”

“I know it’s not ideal,” Hotch says. “And I wish I didn’t have to agree with her. But if these are some small prices we have to pay, then…we have to pay them.”

It sounds good. In theory. It sounds right.

But it’s wrong.

“No,” you shake your head. “Because they’re not prices that we’re paying. It’s all coming down on me. And I can’t do that. I can’t.”

“Y/N…” He hates that you feel this way, and part of him knows you’re right.

“I know we said we would wait before telling Strauss, but that was before she found out. She already knows now, so why don’t we go to her ourselves and tell her how serious we are?”

You thought he’d be all for this idea. But he shakes his head.

“It isn’t that simple.” He pauses. “She also mentioned others overhearing our…less than appropriate comments to one another.”

“You mean yours.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hotch, I told you before we even started any of this that we needed to stay professional. Your good girl comments here and there surely weren’t peak professionalism.”

“If it’s been making you uncomfortable, why haven’t you stopped me?”

“Because I wasn’t uncomfortable,” you cry. “I never was, and I never am around you. I knew we were pushing it, but I didn’t think about stopping.”

“Okay,” he nods. “I’m sorry. I should’ve known better.”

“It’s fine—”

“No, Y/N, as unit chief, I should’ve known better.”

“Okay…” You raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to keep going. “Okay?”

“I think it would be best if you and I take a step back from our relationship until this all settles down.”

You blink. “What?”

“I knew since the beginning that something like this could happen,” he pauses. “And I’ve worried for a while now that our relationship is too…inappropriate.” Pause. “That it’s putting a strain on the team and our jobs.”

“How long is a while?” You ask. And when he doesn’t reply, you demand an answer. “Hotch. How long have you been thinking like this?”

“Since the night you were shot,” he admits quietly, “and we almost lost you.”

“Since…” You cut yourself off out of sheer disbelief. “You’re telling me you’ve been thinking like this for…for the past six months?”

“Y/N—”

“All this time we’ve been together, and you’ve just been waiting to break up with me.”

“I want to be with you, but our jobs…”

“And if I transfer somewhere else? What then?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t want you to sacrifice your job here for our relationship.”

“And if I do?”

He says nothing.

You figure that’s enough of an answer.

“Do you need me for anything today?” You ask. “For work.”

“No,” he murmurs.

“I’ll be going home, then,” you say. “Have a good rest of your day.”

+++

Down in the bullpen, Morgan, Emily, and Garcia have been watching your conversation with Hotch unfold through the cracks in the blinds of his office. He didn’t close them all the way, so Spencer has been able to lip read.

But as soon as Spencer realized the conversation wasn’t going anywhere good, he stopped.

When you open the door to Hotch’s office, you’re not surprised at all to find the team staring up at you. You ignore eye contact with every single one of them as you skip down the steps, heading straight for the glass doors.

Hotch stands in the doorway of his office, watching you go, watching Garcia and Emily run after you.

Standing outside the elevator, shaking with frustration, and holding back your tears as hard as you can, refusing to cry here.

“Okay, what just happened?” Pen asks, and you almost don’t hear her because you can barely see straight anyway.

“Nothing,” you mutter. “Or—I don’t know. I don’t actually know what just happened to me. God, can this thing hurry up?” You press the call button a few more times.

“It didn’t look like nothing,” Emily replies.

“It looked like—Wait.” Pen stops, her eyes wide. “Did you—”

Finally, the elevator doors open.

“Did you break up?” Emily finishes, sadness all over her face.

“I don’t know,” you reply, stepping inside the elevator. “Ask him, I guess.”

You reach over and almost press the ground floor, but at the last second, you hit Strauss’s floor number.

You wave sadly at Pen and Emily, and as the doors close, you catch a glimpse of Hotch standing at the glass doors.

I can always return to the BAU someday, you tell yourself. Maybe this is a sign that I’m needed somewhere else.

After Aaron sees the elevator doors close, he knows right then that he’s lost you.

Next chapter

#intelligence & issues #aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #angst #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner series

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daenqyu · 4 years

Text

promise me | bakugou katsuki

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to @birds-have-teeth )

pairing: bakugou x fem!reader

genre: angsty fluff

summary: you’re used to dealing with your problems all on your own, but sometimes the weight becomes too heavy. and just when you feel like you’re about to fall, bakugou is always there to steady you back on your feet.

warnings: suicidal thoughts, descriptions of a panic attack, dark thoughts in general

word count: 3.2k

a/n: at first i wasn’t gonna post this because it was more of a comfort fic for me since i’ve been struggling a lot recently and bakugou is my comfort character, but i thought this could make other people feel better too so yeah :)

small disclaimer: this is completely based on my OWN, PERSONAL experience !!!!! if you ever experience suicidal thoughts, please seek help; you’re not alone. and you’re loved. you’re worth it.

IT was too much. you couldn’t handle it. you thought you could and that’s why you decided to not tell anyone, especially not bakugou. he knew about your struggles and burdens; at some point in your relationship you decided you felt comfortable enough to share that part of yourself with him and even tho he couldn’t really understand all of your emotions, he was still very supportive. but of course that didn’t mean you told him everything. sure, you trusted him with your life and you knew he would never judge you, but that wasn’t enough to make the voices in your head go away.

for a while everything seemed to be fine, you had managed to keep yourself distracted enough to not have to be alone with your thoughts. whether it was hanging out with friends, going on dates with bakugou, or watching tv shows, you were always busy with something. but there’s only so much one can do to stop themselves from thinking, or in your case, overthinking.

the nights were the worst. normally you’d watch random videos until your eyes started hurting from the brightness of you phone and then go to bed, but there were times when even that wasn’t enough. when not even heavy metal songs could be as loud as your dark thoughts, and they only seemed to intensify the more you tried to push them away. you tossed and turned on bed in hopes of eventually tiring yourself out, yet you ended up sitting on the mattress with hot tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried your best to catch your breathing.

all the emotions you suppressed for months now suddenly came crashing down on you, forcing you to face your inner demons and making you realize just how not okay you were. you couldn’t quite pinpoint what was bothering you so much; it was everything, yet nothing at the same time. it was about you, but also everyone else in your life. it was about not knowing who you were, about losing yourself and not really knowing what you were doing with your life. it was about thinking you were a failure, yet better than most people. it was confusing. and it was eating you alive.

your hands tugged at your hair so tight a part of you was afraid you were gonna rip it off and your chin rested on your knees as you brought them up to your chest in a feeble attempt to hug yourself.

this always happens. stop making such a big deal about it. why are you even crying? you’re so ungrateful. such an attention seeker. completely pathetic. why is bakugou even dating you? he might as well leave you for someone better. prettier. smarter.

loud sobs left your mouth as your thoughts mentally destroyed you, your insecurities getting the best of you. but it was more than that. this wasn’t just about not feeling good enough or thinking you didn’t deserve your boyfriend. it was about thinking you would be better off. after all you were just a bother, right? you would be doing everyone a favor if you just fucking did it, but you couldn’t. you wouldn’t. because you were scared. because you were a coward.

at some point it became too much, you could barely even breathe and your chest was hurting, or maybe it was your heart, along with your head, which’s pounding had become almost unbearable. your eyes burned from all the crying and you could feel the puffiness beginning to form around them. with trembling hands and blurry vision, you took your phone in your hands and dialed the only person you knew was capable of helping you in a situation like this.

the blonde haired boy groaned when he heard his phone ringing from the nightstand next to his bed. he rubbed his eyes before mentally insulting whoever was calling him so fucking late at night, but just as he was about to start screaming onto the phone’s speaker, he saw your name flash across the screen and his whole expression changed in less that a second. because you were his exception to everything.

“y/n? do you know what fucking time it is? this better be-” he didn’t get to finish his sentence when a sob coming from your end interrupted him. suddenly he was up and about, his eyes widening as he sat on his bed, all the sleepiness he felt moments ago disappearing at the heartbreaking sound. “are you- are you crying?”

“k-katsuki,” he cringed, hating the way your voice sounded so broken and not like your usual self. and while he didn’t know what was going on exactly, he had a pretty good idea.

“i’m here,” he tried to assure you, but he hated how your sobs only got louder after that. “what happened? are you okay?”

“no. it’s bad,” you couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him, not when you needed him the most. “i’m s-sorry for calling you so late, i-”

“you don’t have to apologize. i wasn’t that tired anyways,” he bit his lower lip, debating on what he should do next. “do you want me to come over?”

“yes,” you didn’t even hesitate; it almost sounded like you were begging and bakugou could feel his breath hitching in his throat for a moment. “please, i need you.” that was all he needed to hear before he hung up, throwing the phone on his desk as he hurriedly put on whatever shirt he had laying around, not bothering to put shoes on. he didn’t have time to think about some stupid footwear. he stumbled while running towards your dorm room, not giving a fuck about how loud his steps were or if he could wake up his classmates.

much to his luck, your room wasn’t that far away from his so he got there in less than two minutes. he could feel his heart hammering against his chest as his hand gripped the door’s knob, but he didn’t waste any time before turning it around and letting himself inside. the sight before his eyes made something inside bakugou break. you were sitting down on the floor with your knees up to your chest, hands clutching your head tightly as choked sobs kept leaving your mouth. and he hated it. he hated it because he knew exactly how you felt; the same way he felt every night when he was alone in the confines of his room and his thoughts were the only thing keeping him company.

you hadn’t noticed him, too focused on trying not to pass out, so he made his way over to you slowly in order to not startle you. he kneeled down in front of you, quickly recalling the website he had read a few days ago that talked about what to do when a person was having a panic attack. his hand gently touched your shoulder, careful not to scare you, and while you still flinched at the sudden touch, your expression somewhat softened after seeing it was none other than your boyfriend.

“hey beautiful,” he smiled softly at you, or at least tried his best since all he wanted to do was scream and fight someone. because you didn’t deserve this. someone as kind as you didn’t deserve to go through all this shit. “can you hear me?” you nodded, tears still running down your cheeks and your whole body trembling. “good, now let’s take a few deep breaths,” he inhaled deeply before exhaling, wanting you to repeat his actions and you tried. your hands stopped gripping your scalp, instead opting for bakugou’s arms, which were at each side of you as they held onto your shoulders. “you’re doing great, just focus on me okay? only me.” you nodded once again, still trying to ease your breathing pattern as you stared into his beautiful vermilion eyes, the ones that always managed to intimidate you (in a good way of course).

after a few more minutes of breathing exercises, you managed to stop the pants that came out of your mouth, but tears still ran down your cheeks as the thoughts never ceased, perhaps getting louder and louder with every passing second. you wanted nothing more than to close your eyes and curl yourself into a ball, but you knew that wasn’t gonna solve anything. so you kept holding on to your boyfriend’s arms, as if he was the only thing holding you down to earth.

this better fucking work, bakugou thought to himself before he spoke up again, “y/n, can you tell me five things you can see?”

“you,” talking was still hard, yet you forced yourself to look around the room and answer his question correctly. “my p-phone, the desk, d-dirty laundry, and,” all this thinking made the pounding in your head worse, but at least you weren’t focusing on the voices. “my stuffed t-teddy bear.”

“hm, four things you can touch?” one of his hands tenderly gripped your shoulder, his eyes never leaving yours.

“y-you, your shirt, the c-carpet, and m-my pj’s.” the dizziness in your head started to come to a halt and you sniffled, thankful that bakugou was able to make things better. like always.

“that’s it, you’re doing so well. now three things you can hear?” his head turned around to leave an innocent kiss on the skin of your forearm, his gaze still focused on your face.

“your voice, t-the rain, and the air conditioner.” the feeling of bakugou’s lips made you come back to your senses slowly but surely. now your hands were the only thing trembling, not your whole body.

“you’re almost there baby, two things you can smell?”

“my diffuser and your perfume,” a small smile made its way to your lips as you breathed in his scent, letting out a pleasant sigh as the smell filled your nostrils. “caramel.”

bakugou scoffed, a soft blush splashed across his cheeks as he looked away from you for a moment.

“one thing you can taste?”

you took in a deep breath, not really knowing what to answer until you licked your lips and tasted the familiar sweetness of your chapstick, “cherry.” your grip on bakugou’s arm loosened, but still lingered there. he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in, feeling a big weight off his shoulders knowing you could breathe properly again, but he was still bothered by the situation.

“dumbass, don’t ever scare me like that again.” his words were rather rough yet you knew he meant no harm, you knew he was genuinely scared for your well being and that was just his way of voicing out his concern.

“i’m sorry.”

“what did i tell you about apologizing all the damn time?” he groaned, letting his arms fall to his sides as your hands came up to wipe your remaining tears away. you sent him an apologetic smile before sighing, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to wrap your head around everything that happened.

meanwhile, bakugou stared intently at you, wondering whether or nor he should ask what caused the sudden outburst. he didn’t want to make you feel worse, but if he knew you like he thought he did (which he does), you’d probably end up bottling everything inside until you had another breakdown. and he’ll be damned if he ever let’s that happen again.

silently, he crawled towards you. and once he was close enough, he positioned himself behind you so you could sit on his lap and you happily complied. you cuddled your face against his warm chest, enjoying the comfort it provided, and bakugou placed his chin on top of your head, keeping you close to him. you stayed like that for a few minutes, just basking in each other’s presence, but in reality bakugou was just giving you some more time to calm down before pestering you with questions that could possibly overwhelm you.

“you want to talk about it?” he was still keeping his tone low and gentle; anyone who heard him would’ve been extremely confused by his sudden change in demeanor. because he could be a lot of things, but gentle was not one of them. then again, you were his exception. you were different.

“i...don’t know,” your hands played with the hem of his black tank top, eyebrows furrowed together as you tried to find the right words to describe your internal turmoil. “it’s just...everything piling up and never knowing what to do,” bakugou leaned down to place a kiss on your temple, quietly letting you know that he wasn’t going anywhere, and somehow, that made you want to cry all over again. “you know when you get really tired of yourself and your life?” he hesitantly nodded, not knowing where you were going with this. “well i feel like that everyday. a-and sometimes i think it would all be better if i disappeared.”

it took him approximately 5 seconds to get what you exactly meant by disappearing, but when he did boy was he mad. his eyebrows furrowed and his grip on you tightened, an annoyed, yet concerned expression evident on his face. how could you say that? you were his everything, the only one who could calm him down, the one who made him smile by just breathing; his light. he wouldn’t know what to do without you, hell he didn’t even want to imagine it.

“you’re such an idiot,” a smile tugged your lips at his harsh choice of words, the complete opposite of the hold he had on you. “you listen to me because you know how much i hate repeating myself,” one of his hands grabbed your chin softly, yet firmly as he tilted your head to make you look at him directly. “feeling like this is not your fault. i know that it’s easier to blame yourself for everything that goes wrong in your life, trust me, i know. but there are things in life that we just can’t control and most definitely aren’t responsible for.”

you scoffed, “well you’re one to talk.”

“tch, such a smartass, aren’t you?” bakugou rolled his eyes at your remark. “that’s exactly why i’m telling you all this, dumbass. because i don’t want you to go through what i did, especially when you have me by your side to help you.” your eyes widened at his sweet confession, gaze softening at the boy in front of you. he avoided it, looking to the side with rosy cheeks.

“katsuki…” you lowered your voice, lifting your hand to place it on bakugou’s cheek and your heart jumped when he looked at you. his eyes reflected nothing but pure love and adoration, and you were sure yours were the exact same. without saying another word, you kissed him softly, fingers caressing his soft skin. the kiss was short and innocent, but it made bakugou smile ever so slightly.

“let me finish,” he said once you pulled away and the determination in his voice made you nod, knowing he needed to say whatever was on his mind. “i know there’s nothing i can do to make your pain disappear or for you to change your mindset because that’s not how it works. but i am and will always be here for you. i don’t give a shit if you think you’re gonna bother me or if it’s late or if you think it’s something stupid, you just tell me. and if the thoughts continue then maybe we can even get a professional to help you, but please don’t give up on me.” the crack in his voice at the end of his sentence made your heart stutter.

both of your hands cradled bakugou’s face, your eyes desperately looking for his once again. when he finally looked at you, you saw the tears threatening to fall from his eyes and how hard he was trying to hold himself back from breaking down. he needed to be strong. he couldn’t be weak in front of you. you were the one who needed to be comforted, not him. so with those thoughts in mind, bakugou sniffled and roughly wiped the unshed tears away. but you didn’t move from your place.

“so promise me,” he pulled you impossibly close, your faces barely inches apart. “promise me you won’t give up, that you’ll fight and be stronger than your demons because you fucking are. you’re so much stronger than you think, shit you’re probably stronger than me!” your eyes widened, surprised he even said something like that, but knowing he 100% meant it. because bakugou didn’t lie. “promise me.”

you nodded multiple times, taking out your pinky to show him you were serious about this. and while bakugou thought you couldn’t be any more childish, he still grinned and interlaced his own pinky with yours, “i promise.”

“good, now let’s sleep because i’m tired as fuck.” you rolled your eyes at the sudden change in attitude.

“knew it was too good to be true.” he raised an eyebrow at your comment, standing up to lay down on your bed, the soft sheets welcoming him with your scent.

“the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“nothing, let’s just sleep.” you sent him a smile before laying down next to him, his arms quickly wrapping themselves around your waist to pull you even closer.

you turned around in his hold to properly look at him. his head rested comfortably against the pillow, his hair messy and sticking up in all different directions, while his eyes lazily looked over at you. he looked angelic, ethereal even. without thinking it twice, you ran one of your hands through his hair, giggling when he let out a happy hum and gripped your hips, as if telling you to keep going. he looked so pretty, lips slightly pouty as he forced himself to stay awake for a little longer. at least until you fell asleep.

“wanna know something really cheesy?” he sounded tired and you felt bad for keeping him awake so late when he probably had a long day. nevertheless, you hummed and continued to comb your fingers through his hair. “you’re fucking amazing. absolutely mesmerizing,” bakugou opened his eyes to look at you better, a small smile tugging his lips upwards as he saw your flushed expression, trying to look away from him, but he didn’t let you. “i love you, y/n.”

he’s said it before, and you should be used to it by now, but it never fails to make you heat up and feel all fuzzy inside. bakugou looks so serious, because he wants you to know he truly means it, yet so soft at the same time and you know this isn’t easy for him. he doesn’t like showing his vulnerable side to people, thinking it makes him weak, so to have him open up to you and declare his love for you so openly makes you feel special. because you’re the only one who knows this side of him.

“i love you more, katsuki.” another genuine smile grazes bakugou’s lips after hearing you call him by his first name, your voice sweet like honey.

he presses a kiss on your forehead as he lets you snuggle up against him, “go to sleep, i’ll be here when you wake up.”

that night, you slept peacefully, knowing you’re safe in bakugou’s arms. you don’t know what tomorrow or any other day holds for you, but if you have him by your side, you know you can overcome anything.

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suite43 · 3 years

Text

this was a commissioned peice of writing for @princemai . If you're interested in a commission, dm me!

Adjusting to life after the war was never going to be easy. How do you coexist with the people who've been trying to kill you for millions of years? It didn't take a nihilist to think that the peace wouldn't last.

Bumblebee counted himself pleasantly surprised that, well, something seemed to last. Peace wasn't the right word, but at least it was less "endlessely killing each other" and more "the entire universe hates us and we can't really blame them". But for the most part, these days, things were peaceful.

That didn't mean it was easy.

You wouldn't call it easy to wake up next to the closest thing you'd ever had to an arch-nemisis wrapped around you. You wouldn't quite know what to do with the fact that as much as he hates to admit it, he's afraid of the dark. And you wouldn't blame yourself for waking up sometimes afraid that you'll find a knife at your throat.

It wasn't easy. But it was peaceful, more or less. Because when Starscream kissed him in that way he did almost every morning, gentle and still half-asleep, Bumblebee could nearly forget he'd ever thought of the mech next to him as dangerous, and a part of him would wonder why it hadn't always been like this.

But then they get up, and the day would go on, and even though there's peace now, there's a lot of history, and Bumblebee can't help but feel like they're both just waiting for everything to turn sideways.

Bumblebee wants to trust Starscream. And he does, on some level at least. Immensely so. Enough to have trusted him with the fate of the universe. But every argument, every time the banter hits just a little bit too close to home, every time Starscream slips back into a crueler, more violent version of himself, Bumblebee wonders to himself if maybe this is it. After all, it wasn't really that long ago that they were shooting at each other.

Starscream has the same thoughts. Obviously, he won't admit it, but it's easy enough to see through his acts once you know him well enough - When did Bumblebee start to know him well enough? How the hell did that happen? It all feels so fast - But sometimes when there's a certain tension in his wings and his fingers curl up ever so slightly and his eyes shoot around, planning his escape, Bumblebee knows that Starscream is just as scared as he is.

It's not always like that. There are moments when they're alone where it feels like none of that matters. They sit together on their couch and they're quiet as they both do their own thing, and Bumblebee shifts to lean against Starscream's shoulder and Starscream wraps one arm around him, his hand idly tracing small circles on Bumblebee's plating, and it just feels right. Bumblebee feels more safe there than anywhere in the universe, curled into the side of one of the most dangerous people in the universe. In a moment like that, he'd tear his spark out and put it in Starscream's hands if he asked him to.

But... It wasn't that long ago that he watched people he loved die at those hands. Those same strong, clever hands that slotted perfectly into his like they were built that way, like everything in their lives had led them to this specific touch. Bumblebee wasn't a big believer in destiny but sometimes everything would line up just so, and if he'd been slightly more of a romantic he'd've called them soulmates.

It was this confusing blend of love and hate, of forgiveness and grudge and grief and adoration that didn't make sense at all and yet when Starscream knows exactly what to order him when they go out it makes perfect sense. And, somehow, it works out.

They've never really talked about... well, whatever this is. It's clearly a relationship, at this point. It's hard to argue for 'just friends' after that many rounds of... well, you know what. It's equally as hard after catching each other after god-knows-how-many nightmares, after thousands of late-late-night conversations, after the way that making each other laugh became the easiest thing in the world, after the way that they would whisper sweet complements between each other like a secret because it was far too embarrasing to say loudly.

So yeah, it was a relationship. But "open, honest communication" was not exactly in Starscream's skillset, and, well, Bee wasn't really sure he wanted to talk about it either. Putting a name on it felt. Dangerous. Like it'd ruin it. There'd be too much pressure, too much commitment, too much... truth. It felt like confessing something that he wasn't ready for.

It was one thing to sleep with Starscream. It was another to, say, kiss Starscream. It was a third thing to literally sleep with Starscream, to trust the second-least-trustworthy person on Cybertron to be with him at his most vulnerable. But to be dating Starscream? To introduce Starscream as his partner? As his conjunx? That was a world of different things that Bumblebee was absolutely not prepared to handle.

What was he supposed to say? Oh, by the way, this is my conjunx. He's killed more people than my brain can even comprehend, but he also saved the universe that one time so it's totally cool now, don't worry!

But he loved him, and that was the problem. He loved Starscream so much, and he wanted everyone in the universe to know about the funny, thoughtful, brilliant person that he loved with all his heart.

And didn't it mean something that Bumblebee had seen Starscream at his absolute worst, and still decided that loving him was worthwhile? It wasn't like Bee was just flailing at the whims of his emotions, he chose to be here. Well, not the first time, that had just kind of happened. But after that, he'd chosen to stay, because loving him seemed worth the trouble of hating him, right? And Starscream was getting better, and that was a good thing.

And who was he worried about knowing? The handful of people Bumblebee would've bothered to tell if they did get married already knew the situation, and it wasn't exactly like either of them were really public figures anymore. The government job Windblade had gotten to keep Starscream busy was mostly just paperwork, and aside from the odd job here or there Bumblebee didn't do much. He'd basically retired. So they weren't going to be the talk of the town or anything. Besides, it's kind of old news, there'd been rumors of them doing something together pretty much since the second the war ended. It wasn't true then, but by now the scandal had kinda worn off and it was more of a "yeah, no shit" kind of gossip.

Still. A decade or so of closeness didn't really feel like long enough for a lifetime commitment, especially after what, four million years of hating each other beforehand?

But... Life is shorter than you expect it to be, right? They'd both died once over the course of this whatever-it-was. And the second time, they really had thought it'd stick, and Starscream sorta-haunting him from another dimension or whatever seemed like it was a permanent commitment, and that didn't scare Bumblebee at all. It sounded nice, not having to be alone again. This was like that, except he could be alone, sometimes, because neither of them could walk through walls or locked doors anymore so all he had to do for some privacy was tell Starscream to politely fuck off for a bit, which was a plus, right? Way more pracitcal.

"Can't we talk about this in the morning?" Starscream complained, eyes half shut, snapping Bumblebee out of his train of thought.

"What?" Bumblebee asked, confused.

"I don't want you to propose while we're drunk and you're rambling, idiot," Starscream was laying in Bee's lap, nuzzling his face into Bee's stomach plating. They were holding hands. When did that happen? "We can talk about it later."

Oh, shit.

"How much of that did I say out loud?"

"I dunno, you talk a lot. You're keeping me up."

"Shit. Sorry."

"S'okay. Your voice is nice."

"Oh." It was quiet for a minute.

"It's okay if you hate me. I get it," Starscream said.

"I don't hate you," Bee responded, blinking a few times, trying to shake off the feeling of spinning. "I like it when you're here."

"But you kind of have to hate somebody a little to love them, right?" Starscream shifted, staring up at the ceiling, head still resting on Bee's stomach. "I mean, it's hard to be with someone all the time. Especially when you're stubborn and stupid, and you do stupid obnoxious things and I hate it. But if you weren't those things I hate, you wouldn't entirely be you. And I don't just like parts of you, I like you, and I can hate things you do while still knowing that it's you, and I love who you are. Even when we piss each other off. It's still you. Right?"

"Do you think i'm stupid? I'm not stupid."

"You're missing the point."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Stop apologizing so much. I hate it when you apologize." Starscream's hand squeezed his a little tighter.

"Oh... uh. sorry."

"You make me feel... like..." Starscream just kind of trailed off.

"Yeah, I know. you too... uh. I mean. you make me. uh. you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"This is good, right?"

"Mmm, it's gonna feel shitty in the morning, but right now it's good."

"What about after tommorow?"

"I don't know. Ask me then."

"Hm."

"I don't have a plan, Bee. That's not normal for me. But I don't need you to tell me it's going to be like this forever, because it probably won't be. Things don't work out like that for us. But right now, for the first time in my entire life, I'm genuinely satisfied. Can we just enjoy that? I don't know how to be happy, Bee. I don't know how to handle it. But I'm trying to make this work. We can go back to shooting each other tommorow if that's easier for you, but right now, I'm happy."

"Yeah? Yeah. Me too. God, I'm happy," Bumblebee pulled their joined hands up, pressing a kiss to Starscream's knuckles where they intersected. "I'm happy that you're happy. I want you to be happy."

"I know," Starscream said. He muttered something else, but it was quiet and slurred and Bee couldn't quite make it out. In his head, Bee imagined it was something along the lines of I love you.

#the prompt was 'so why arent bee and starscream conjunxed' and i got to go from there #it was interesting! this is pretty stream of conciousness so i hope its interesting to yall as well!#red.doc #starbee #maccadams

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thisisawonderfulusername · 3 years

Text

feelings

klaus hargreeves x reader

requested: anon

prompts: 165- “this might hurt” 291- “is that blood?” 300- “i can take care of myself” and 302- “i can’t breathe”

summary: when trying to save vanya and the world, you get a bit hurt

warnings: cursing, tooth rotting fluff babyyyyy

word count: 2k

a/n: holy shit i uploaded something! anyways, the requestor gave me an option between five and klaus and i had to do klaus because i haven’t written anything for him yet and i want to so baaaad so thank you anon

also @generouswombyrat , yours is next i promise lol

it’s loud, and the flashing lights would have made you pass out if you hadn’t made it to the cover of the counter to protect yourselves while you thought of a plan.

“vanya’s in the room at the end of the hall.” diego has to raise his voice to be heard over what the woman was causing.

allison has her hands on the sides of her head, you assume to block out some of the noise that is threatening to rip your hearing away from you. “how do you propose we get to her?”

“you can count me out.” klaus says from beside you, defeated and with a flask held in his hand. when the two siblings look at him in disbelief, he tries to defend himself, “what? you guys should save her. you’re great at all the hero shit.”

after allison reaches over to slap him, he leans against your shoulder while you roll your eyes. “listen, listen, vanya would understand ‘cause she has realistic expectations of what i am. and what i am, is sexy trash!”

“you’re a big pussy, that’s what you are,” diego tells him in annoyance.

“guys, this is not the time,” you speak over their small argument.

“why, because i don’t want to die? who does?” klaus questions you, waving his hand around in front of you, “and martyrs aren’t around to enjoy the victory party, ‘cause they’re dead!” he ends his sentence with a shout and you roll your eyes.

diego crawls over to where klaus sits, grabbing onto his shirt, “you are going out there,” the other grabs at his arm to push him away, complaining, “or i’m gonna beat you!”

“that’s my cue.” your head whips away from the argument and to allison as she moves from behind your only cover. the others stop fighting and the three of you shout at her to stop, but she’s already began to fight against the wave of energy flowing from the room vanya was being held in.

after hearing her yell out for the woman, there’s a thump on the other side of your cover, and you suck in a breath.

“alright, i’m going.” diego tells the two of you after peaking out from behind the wall.

“no, wait, wait, wait, wait,” klaus grabs onto his arm to stop him from going.

the other looks at him in annoyance, “what?”

“if you don’t make it back, there’s one thing that i need to tell you.” diego was beginning to wave him off, since you didn’t exactly have time for a heart to heart. “you look like antonio banderas with the long hair.”

you slap a hand to your forehead as diego looked at him as if he told him the most sincere thing. “thanks, man.”

“my god,” you groan, crawling over klaus in order to peak around and watch as the man digs his knives into the floor. as he begins to slow, you bite your lip, “keep going!” you shout, “you can do it!”

“i’m not gonna make it!” he shouts back to you, and you shake your head as you look back to klaus, who was still curling in on himself. “you guys have to do it!”

he pulls on a tie holding some sort of rope coiled, and it comes flying towards you. a second later, you feel another thump against the wood.

you take a deep, shaky breath. you have to do this. “okay, klaus.” you glance over at him as you reach up towards the rope, “if i die, just know...” you think for a moment as you bite into your lip, wondering if it’s the best idea to pour your feelings out at a moment like this.

“no,” you sigh, “i’ll make it.”

“wait!” klaus yells as he grabs onto you, “what do i need to know?”

you shake your head, “it’s not important.” you make sure your grip is tight, enough for you to make it. “i’ll see you on the other side!”

“don’t die please!”

when you pull yourself from behind your protection, the force of the wave vanya was sending was much stronger than you expected it to be. your eyes were watering as you tried to look forward, into the flashing lights, but they were already giving you a headache.

you hear klaus shouting at you, but you can’t hear him over the energy. just as you were getting closer to the door, your strength was weakening, but you continued moving one hand at a time to pull yourself forward.

when you pull your eyes away for one second to look away from the lights, your hand misses the rope, and your eyes widen as you lose your grip and go flying back, straight into the wall.

your head feels like it’s spinning when you wake up, the lack of the whooshing energy making your ears ring. it feels like the air has been knocked out of you, and it probably was. “oh god, i can’t breathe.”

“are you okay?” the one who caused all of this runs to the four of you.

“vanya,” allison breathes out from beside you.

you groan as you push yourself up, ignoring the dizziness you felt. “physically or emotionally?” klaus questions as he holds himself up on his elbows.

diego pushes himself onto his knees, looking up to her with a smile. “you’re alive.”

“did we save the world or what?” klaus questions as he finally sits up.

you run your fingers through your hair, “i think so. the building’s still here.”

the ticking of diego’s watch catches your attention as you look to it. “kennedy’s a few minutes away.” he points out, quickly getting to his feet, “i can still save him.”

allison calls to him as he begins his way down the hall, following after him in an attempt to stop him.

“is that blood?” you look to klaus as he questions you, and it’s only then that you notice the metallic taste in your mouth.

reaching up to touch your lip, you flinch when you realize it had somehow split open. you cringe at the slight sting the contact brought. “nah, it’s ketchup.” you chuckle as you wipe the blood from your lip.

he rolls his eyes. “we need to patch it up. i’m sure there’s some sort of medical kit stashed away around here.”

“no need,” you wave your hand in the air, “i can take care of myself. we have some more important things to worry about.”

shaking his head, he pushes himself up off the ground before holding his hand out to you. “we already saved the world. everyone else can deal with diego.”

sighing, you take his hand and he helps you up off the ground.

after searching all nearby rooms, you eventually find a med kit. being in an office, it was easiest to hop up onto the desk to let klaus take care of the wound.

once he had opened the kit and grabbed everything he needed, he stepped in front of you. “that was an interesting experience.” he comments about the whole ordeal you just went through.

“that’s our lives.” you respond with a sigh.

nodding, he grabs a paper towel that had been soaked in water. you both decided it was the best way to clean it, at least a little bit.

“this might hurt.” he tells you softly, carefully grabbing your chin to press the paper to your lip. he’s right. it felt like it was burning from the slightly rough texture, but you were able to ignore it. you had gone through worse, after all.

after a second of dabbing at the cut, he pulls the towel away with a smile. “there we go. all clean.” he throws the towel to the side and grabs one of the surgical tape strips, carefully using it to close the wound. “hopefully that works.” he claps his hands together.

you smile, quickly stopping when you feel the tape and your cut trying to pull open. “thanks.” you hum, before you notice the blood that had poured from his nose.

without saying a word, you grab the wet towel. after folding it over to avoid the part covered with your blood, you grab his chin to pull him towards you. “what are you doing?” he questions.

“blood.” you tell him simply, wiping away at the already drying liquid. your eyebrows furrow as you tilt his chin, “how did you get some on your neck?”

he simply shrugs as you clean it up.

shaking your head, you look him over to make sure there wasn’t anymore blood on him. you still hold his chin as he looks at you, a small grin on his face. “checking me out?”

“for blood, yes.” you chuckle, releasing him and tossing the towel into a nearby trash can.

he’s still looking at you, and you let your shoulders fall slightly to release some of the tension in them, “why are you staring at me like that?”

“i’m glad you didn’t die.” he tells you.

you let out a soft laugh, “well, i’m glad you didn’t die either.”

he grins, glancing to the side for a second, “what were you going to tell me?” he asks.

“hm?” your eyebrows raise a bit.

“before you tried to make it to vanya,” he expands on his question, “you said you wanted me to know something.”

you knew exactly what he was talking about, but you thought about just acting clueless. apparently you didn’t think enough before sacrificing yourself earlier.

sitting up slightly, you shrug, “i... i don’t know. it doesn’t matter.”

“what are you talking about? of course it matters.” he hops up on the desk to sit next to you, his legs swinging slightly. “just spit it out. you know it will feel better.”

looking to him, your shoulders slump slightly. “it’s hard to say.” you sigh, running your hand down your face, and beginning to feel that your heart is beating just a little bit faster than before. “okay, i’m just gonna say it. i like you. i might even be in love with you, i-”

you’re not able to finish your rambling about your feelings, since the moment he had heard you admit to them he had leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours.

your heart felt like it was soaring as your eyes closed, and you could feel the slight sting in your lip but it didn’t matter because shit, klaus was kissing you.

you’re not sure how long it lasted, but it didn’t feel long enough once he pulled away. it took a moment for your eyes to open again, as you were relishing the moment. but a smile is on both of your faces when you look at him, and you know then that you are definitely in love with him.

taglists

main: @horrorklaus @megasimpleplan4ever

tua: @rasberrymay @noodlextrash @atomicpillar @malfovs @andreasworlsboring101

klaus: none yet

it was also requested that i tag @theumbrellaamattemy

#the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #tua #klaus hargreeves #klaus #number four #the umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy x reader #tua x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus x reader #number four x reader

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technicallymilkshakes · 3 years

Text

Something Better than Tomorrows

A quarantine au oneshot Genre(s): Fluff Pairing: Xiumin x Reader Word Count: 2k

“Hello?”

“Hey,” he answers back softly. “I'm here.”

You kiss the door. Four inches from the tips of your toes to his. The two of you are on your cellphones so you don't bother the neighbors, but you can still catch the cadence to his speech through the door. The lilt and timbre of his voice. No digitally processed sound waves can compete.

“I hate this,” he whispers.

“I brought some tteokbokki.” The plastic bag rustles as you pull out the container and pop the lid off. You're trying to distract him. Have been from the beginning. “Have you tried it yet?”

“Yeah. I think I like regular tteokbooki more.”

You make a disbelieving noise amid your chewing. Swallow. “Hm...” You pause. “I think I like regular more, too.” You smile as you hear his soft laughter.

“Dummy,” he says fondly. It's become a kind of pet name for you, one you haven't exactly discouraged. You've made a fool of yourself on more than one occasion just to make him smile. (Your favorite ones are his gummiest smiles, eye crinkled into commas, quick pauses in the language of delight.)

“What're you eating?” you ask in between bites. Your food has gone cold and it's not the most comfortable place to eat, sitting on the ground outside a hotel room door, but this is the closest you've been to Minseok in over a year. You wouldn't trade that, even for the relative comfort of your own room a couple doors down.

“'Isha,” he responds as he tears through a piece. You bet it's potato pizza—it's his favorite. “And sikhye,” he continues with a laugh. “For digestion. I sound like my grandpa. Must be getting old.”

You snort. He looks practically unchanged from when you first met him in high school and you tell him so.

“Wow,” he reflects. “Twelve years already...”

“We really are getting old.”

The line goes quiet for so long that you pull the phone away from your ear to check that it's still connected.

“Hello?”

“I'm here,” he says, but it's as if he's dragged the words out morpheme by morpheme. Like he almost doesn't want to be here. You wait him out, confident in your fluency of Minseokisms. He's too good at hiding his feelings. If you've managed to pick up on this, then it's something he wants to be known.

“I'm sorry for making you wait.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You should go. I'll be out tomorrow. I feel bad making you wait after all this time...”

Ah. So that's what this is about. You've had this argument before. Does the sea listen when you ask? Does the world lie down when you beckon? So tell me, how is it your fault? You square your shoulders, your head tilting back to lean against the door.

“Then open up.”

“What? I'm not opening the door.” He sounds shocked you'd even suggest such a thing. You can picture it—he's probably sitting up straight now, eyes wide. Sending concerned glances to the door like you'll pull a Kool-Aid man and break it down or just pick the lock.

He's talking as if you're on the opposite side of a war, not a door. As if it hasn't been over a year since you've seen him in person. As if you haven't been on two different continents, in two different time zones, with too much to worry about.

But now that you've spoken the words into existence, you can't reel them back in. They've been a bottle under pressure and you've just cracked the lid. You've been so patient. You've waited over a whole year, it's true, but having to wait another day when he's right here suddenly strikes you as an unimaginable cruelty.

“Minseok, your quarantine is up tomorrow. I'm one room down from you. Nobody's gonna even notice.”

“Still.”

You sigh. He's such a stickler for rules at the most inopportune times.

“Fine,” you say, gathering your trash and stuffing it back into the plastic bag. You stand up.

“I don't like it when you say that.”

“Why?” you ask as you walk the short distance down the hallway to your room.

“Because it means that you're gonna take things into your own hands. And that's never good.”

You laugh a full-throated laugh, the one he calls your genie laugh. He's ranked all of them. (His favorite is when he tickles you into squealing, breathless laughter. He plants adoring little kisses on the apples of your cheeks that make it worth it.)

“Aw, Minseokie, you know me so well.” You hold up the phone and make little kissy noises into the microphone.

You've made it into your room by this time and you peek outside. It's afternoon going on evening, with just enough sunlight hanging on the horizon to see. Perfect.

You throw the phone, still connected, onto the bed. You can hear tinny little reprimands, the words too muffled to discern, but his tone clear as day. You wonder how long it'll take him to notice you're not answering this time with a grin and step outside.

The balconies aren't connected, but the space is small enough that if you're straddling the balustrade, you can get a nice hold on the railing of the opposite balcony. You jerk it a few times to see if the posts hold fast. They do. You slide your other leg over and do a little jump over to the next balcony. You're not certain if this middle room is occupied, so you scurry quickly to the other side to repeat the process, only your foot gets caught between the posts and you hit the next railing full on in the stomach, knocking the wind out of yourself before you do an awkward flip and land squarely on your back on Minseok's balcony.

You catch the swish of the curtain opening, Minseok's disbelieving face gaping at you through the glass. He's still holding the phone up to his ear. He hurriedly drops it before sliding the door open. You'd be laughing at his face if you had any air left in your diaphragm. The whole railing rings like a gong has been struck and it feels like your ribs are trying to match pitch.

“Hey you,” you say with a roguish grin as soon as you're able to. Very suave-like. Zero hints of gasping fish. Definitely not.

“You big, big, huge, massive dummy,” he cries as he drops to his knees, his hands flitting over your neck and shoulders.

“I've fine.” You get up with a little help from Minseok and he guides you into his room.

You grab his hands from where they're wandering over your body, checking for injuries, and hold them. Your ego is more bruised than anything else.

“Should've just opened the door.” You let go of one of his hands to poke his cheek.

He pulls back a bit and you let your arms fall to hang on his waist. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You're insufferable.”

“Thanks, babe,” you respond, kissing his finger.

Minseok looks at you wondrously. Even though you went through all that effort, neither of you can quite believe that you're here right now. Less than six feet apart. Your fingers find the places you have worn into each other's bodies—his sternum, the dip of your back, between his shoulder blades, the nape of your neck. Your skin still knows his touch, anticipates the slide of his hands up your sides. He is no stranger, it tells you. Reassures you that you still know him. And you can't quite express your relief to find him your lover still. It pricks at you, you see it in his eyes, too, welling up, he knows--

You find yourself in a crushing hug. He's crying.

Between the two of you, he's been the rock. You've always been the impatient one, the one in a rush. And he's the one you've always come back to, who's soothed you when you've broken yourself against the jagged edges of your own expectations.

“Just a little longer,” he'd say with such certainty, even as the world closed itself around you. He would tell you what you'd do the next time you saw each other, fairy tales that always started with 'tomorrow.'

“Tomorrow, we'll go out to the wharf.” Even though he was thousands of miles away, he'd still paint a picture of meeting you again. “The wind will be rising, tugging white caps from the waves. On the marina, the boats will clatter against the docks.” He would pull the phone away and thump against the table, or the floor, or whatever he thumped against. “We'll buy a cone of fries, and you'll run at the seagulls that get too close.”

Well, it looks like it's time for you to chase those winged fears away.

“I really, really missed you,” he whispers brokenly.

You gather him closer, anchor him against you. You'll be the breaker to all his storms. “I'm just glad you're safe,” you whisper, turning to bury a kiss in his hair. He smells of ocean spray, fresh and full of memories to remember and to make.

“It's too stuffy,” you say a while later, after he—after both of you have had time to calm down. You start unbuttoning your shirt to get more comfortable.

“You're not even supposed to be here, you know...”

You stare him right in the eyes as you drop your shirt on the ground and begin unzipping your jeans.

He gives you an annoyed look as he bends to pick up your shirt and starts folding it. You drop your pants with a smirk.

“You're such a brat,” he says with a roll of his eyes. He picks up your jeans, too, like you knew he would.

You chuck him under the chin with the knuckle of your thumb. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Later, the two of you are in bed. He's lying between your legs, his head against your chest. He stripped down to his undershirt and boxers, his clothes folded on top of yours on a chair. All the better to maximize skin contact. It's late at night and you're drifting into that falling space between wakefulness and sleep. Occasionally, the tickle of Minseok's fingers on your thigh or his kisses on the soft inside of your arm rouse you, prompting you to drop a kiss to the top of his head or to slide a hand down his back.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” he says all of a sudden.

You open your eyes.

“I haven't heard it in over a year.” He closes his eyes. He looks restful and at peace. “I didn't realize how much I missed it.”

You place a hand on his cheek. Surely this man must know how his words have crushed you.

He opens his eyes. You guide him closer to you. He sits up, and you're cradling his face in both of your hands now, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. Not a word is spoken, but he begins to smile. You can feel the swell of his cheeks as they gather up into a beatific smile.

“You don't have to miss anything anymore.

“Tomorrow, quarantine will end. We'll go out to Quick Fox to get your favorite bagels for breakfast. We'll eat at the park and people watch. And then we'll go home. You'll gasp when you see what I've done to the place and you'll spend the next five hours cleaning my mess up and complaining that you should've just stayed at the hotel. And then we'll go to sleep and wake up to another tomorrow together.”

“You're such a big dummy,” he says. He turns to kiss first one palm, then the other. “Why are you talking about tomorrow when I can do this today?”

He kisses you, a real one, no fairy tales required. Just the warm press of lips and laughter against you, the nip of teeth and teasing. He pulls back and there it is. That's the one. Your favorite smile.

Wow. Tomorrows can go kick rocks. Todays are much better.

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krreader · 4 years

Text

BTS scenario → morning sex.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: sex ; oral sex ; language ; dirty talk ; daddy!kink genre: smut ; fluff word count: 1.5k+

a/n: I think it’s been a while since I’ve done a scenario like this, so I figured why not post a smutty and fluffy one today (because smut fluff is AMAZING TOO), thanks for the request my love and I hope you like it ♥

kim seokjin

There were obviously a lot of perks of finally being married to Seokjin and living with him full-time, but this one would probably never be one you'd get tired of.

It was the lazy, yet loving morning sex when both of you had just woken up, the way that you started off your day feeling so completely and utterly relaxed as Jin moved on top of you, his face buried in the crock of your neck as your arms and legs were wrapped around him, soft moans spilling from your lips.

There was nothing rough or even fast about this, it was always soft, gentle and peaceful. It was - as cheesy as that might sound – a unification that proved both of you just how much you continued to love each other.

Neither of you ever said anything during the act, it was only when Jin had spilled himself inside of you that he whispered: “I love you more than I can ever say,” in your ear, making a smile break out on your face.

There were definitely worse ways of beginning your day.

min yoongi

If Yoongi had come home any earlier, then he would have been able to read the note that you had left him on the fridge.

“Out for (Y/B/F)'s birthday party. Will be home late, don't wait for me. I love you.”

But see, Yoongi wasn't exactly one to come home early either. And so now you both chuckled as you met each other in the elevator going up to your apartment after both having arrived at the same time. Which was four in the morning.

“Are you tired?” he asked.

“Hm.. a little,” but you already smirked, knowing why he asked what he asked from the way he was looking at you, “But not tired enough not to do what you want to do with me.”

You've had your fair share of sexual experiences with your boyfriend over the years, but you never failed to make new ones.

Like right now, having sex on the carpet in the living room while the sun was rising in the background. And as Yoongi watched the beautiful light shine on your face as you were riding him, he couldn't help but be filled with nothing but love, trying to capture this moment with his eyes and brand into into his brain, being just so utterly happy that you were his. This beautiful and amazing woman.. you were his.

jung hoseok

Of course you had to have morning sex at least once during this vacation. It was almost like Hoseok had a bucket list where 'morning sex while on a trip' was written down.

Because he woke you up one morning with not much of an explanation, but with his hard dick against your ass. That would have answered any questions you might have had in itself. But you still asked, because you wanted him to say it.

“What are you doing?” you giggled, sleep still heavy in your voice.

“I want you so badly, baby girl.”

You were too tired to do any of the work and Hoseok didn't need you to. He simply pulled down your shorts and panties and began rubbing his dick between your folds until you were moaning and wet, finally pushing inside of you once you were obviously ready to take him.

And that's all it was for positions. It was this one, you with your back against his chest, but he was holding you so tightly against his body, moaning into your ear and telling you how much he loved you.

And all you could do was moan in unison with him.

Normally, he lasted about thirty minutes before he couldn't take it anymore, but this time, Hoseok kept up the slow pace and even when he finally orgasmed, he didn't speed it up. He kept pushing into you so lovingly that the emotions itself were reason enough for you to reach your climax with him.

Maybe you should have put that on your bucket list as well, because it most certainly was an experience you never wanted to forget.

kim namjoon

Namjoon and you had a flight to catch in less than two hours and still haven't been able to fully pack everything yet. But instead of doing that, instead of being the responsible adults that everyone thought you were, your boyfriend pushed you back into bed when you walked out of the bathroom naked after a shower and started leaving wet kisses all over your body.

You giggled and let him do what he wanted to do, especially when he reached a part of your body that you had no other option anymore but to moan and give in when it felt so fucking good.

You wanted to tell him to skip foreplay because you didn't have time, but he pushed your legs back and devoured your clit like it was his breakfast and you couldn't do anything other than pull on his hair and beg him to keep going.

Namjoon was too far gone at that point to remember why you had even gotten up this early in the morning in the first place, he enjoyed himself so much once he was finally inside of you and watched you become a moaning mess beneath him that he didn't even think about the flight anymore.

Needless to say, the only two people that weren't stressed when they finally arrived at the airport, thirty minutes before boarding, were you and Namjoon.

And you, unlike everyone else, boarded the plane with content and knowing smiles on your faces.

park jimin

It wasn't rare for Jimin to come home this late – or rather, early – when they had award shows. Or, the after parties of these award shows. You didn't come with him often, rather wanted to support him from home by watching these shows on TV and then welcoming him with kisses and open arms. But when he'd come home at four in the morning, your body often times had just given in at that hour and you had fallen asleep.

Not that that meant that you didn't wake up once he'd finally be back.

And, well, on some days, it turned into what was happening now.

After he had jumped under the shower and crawled into bed with you, he was still filled with endorphins and adrenaline from earlier and needed some form of release. And what better way then to find release with you?

There were days where you had to decline due to being too tired, but today wasn't one of those days. Today, you gladly opened your legs for him and let out a high-pitched moan when he slipped inside of you so easily, like it was the only place he truly belonged in.

And so you made love to each other while the sun was slowly rising on the horizon.

kim taehyung

“You have to be quiet, (Y/N),” Taehyung chuckled as he was on top of you, pushing into you again and again, not exactly fast, but so deeply that you had a hard time keeping it down, especially when he hit your g-spot over and over again.

This was a game to him and you fucking knew it.

Last night when you went to bed, most of his members weren't home yet. They had gone out to eat, either with each other or with friends/family members. Last night, there was no talk of sex. Now, however, in the early hours of the morning as they could be heard walking around outside and talking to each other, getting ready for the day, was when Taehyung had decided that he was horny.

You were up for it, but had assumed that he'd want to be sneaky about it and not push into you like he did now, knowing what it would do to you.

But on the contrary.

It was as if he wanted them to hear you.

“Tae, please,” you begged, clawing on his arms, but he just leaned down with another chuckle as he kissed you, biting down on your lower lip.

“It's still daddy, princess.”

Well, so much for keeping it down. His members would just have to deal with it then.

jeon jeongguk

It was usually Jeongguk who had to go to work before you, but today you had a meeting and he had a day off, so it was the other way around. Wanting to surprise him with a little something, you had made him a small breakfast and had simply wanted to leave it in his room and then go catch the subway to go to your meeting, but while you had gotten ready, Jeongguk must have woken up, since he was pulling you into bed right after you had put down the tray of food.

“I have to go,” you giggled against him as he was holding you close and kissing your neck.

“You'll go without me having breakfast?”

“I put food on your desk, eat it when you're ready.”

“That wasn't what I meant.”

He appreciated the breakfast that you had made him, but it really wasn't what he was in the mood for right now.

Jeongguk ate you out for a good fifteen minutes before he undressed himself fully and gave you what you were begging for at that point, which was quick and rough sex, that he never thought he’d be up for this early in the morning. But what can you do when one had a girlfriend like you walk in with an outfit like that...

Needless to say, he had to drive you to your meeting afterwards so that you wouldn’t come in any later than you already had.

#bts imagine #bts reaction #bts scenario #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #bangtan reaction #bangtan boys #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #bangtan sonyeondan #reader #bangtan x reader #bangtan boys x reader #requests

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lillotte17 · 3 years

Text

Bird Nest

Continuation of my post-canon drabble things!! Who is ready for some Emotional Whiplash?!

Domesticity is not something that Zhou Zishu has much experience with.

Even before becoming the Four Seasons’ Manor Lord and the Leader of the Window of Heaven, his family had always kept servants. He has never been like Jing BeiYuan, who seems to like nothing more than luxuriating amidst finery, but he has never had to concern himself with the everyday tasks of cooking and cleaning and doing laundry, either. He knows how to look after himself well enough, when he has to, but his standards of ‘well enough’ are not especially high. He was always content to make do with the things on hand, and wait for his fortunes to shift towards something better. Or to simply drown himself in wine until the state of his surroundings and his body no longer mattered.

It has never bothered him before, but in these last few days spent in the cold dusty ruin of the World’s Armory with Lao Wen, he is beginning to notice the gaping holes of his inadequacies.

He does not know how to take care of someone.

He knows how to protect someone, how to fight off enemies and hide from pursuit and outmaneuver any opposition. He knows how to treat a simple wound or a fever when someone is suffering. He knows how to care about someone, but after words of affirmation and patience and physical intimacy, he is at something of a loss.

When they had been staying at the Four Seasons Manor with Chengling, he could wave off the fact that he was not doing most of the mundane work of keeping them all fed and healthy because he had a disciple to train and poison burning through his veins, and later, an injured shoulder to contend with. He had focused more on their defenses, and taking stock of their food and medical stores. Making sure that the secrets of the Manor had remained hidden and safe, so that Chengling could inherit them once he was ready.

But now the Manor is gone, and there is only the mountain and the armory and Lao Wen, and Zhou Zishu…is not entirely sure what to do with himself.

The first three or four days had been lost to fear and grief, clinging to Wen Kexing’s limp body and pouring as much of his internal force into him as he could before slumping over in exhaustion. Once he had come back to him from the brink of death, the two days following had been surrendered to hands and mouths and ravenous devotions. They had spent most of their time in various stages of undress, lounging about on the random assortments of tattered mats and blankets they had made into their bed, neither one willing to venture far from the other’s line of sight.

The fifth or sixth day finally had Lao Wen declaring that he felt grimy past the point of endurance, and sent him puttering about the maze of bookshelves and farming equipment in search of the tools to shape the armory into a livable space. Rong Xuan and his friends had come here to train, so there were still some useful things here and there. A few chipped bowls and a dusty teapot. A moldering wash basin that is not yet beyond salvation and a small stew pot with a rusting handle. He had swept and bustled and rearranged things in nearly a frenzy, and Zhou Zishu had not done much more than keep him company and carry and few things when he was bidden.

It had taken the better part of the day, but now they have a dining area, a cozy nook in a well-lit corner for reading and writing, and even a few battered screens set up for privacy while bathing or changing clothes, if they feel so inclined. It nearly feels like a home, even if everything they have is in some state of disrepair. They heat enough water to wash themselves, tend to their outer robes as best they can, and sit down to their first meal of ice and snow in nothing but blankets. It is not especially filling, but then again, their bodies do not seem to feel hunger as they did before, either.

Wen Kexing seems buoyant with his successes, his damp snowy hair glistening in the soft light of their little table lamp.

“How long do you suppose it will take the others to come dig us out?” he asks.

“It is hard to say just how bad the avalanche was from in here,” Zishu hums thoughtfully, “Even if they find the markers you left and follow you here, I am afraid it will take a few weeks at the very least. Transporting large amounts of men and equipment through the mountains is slow going even in good weather.”

He smirks at him.

“Why? Are you sick of me already?”

“Impossible,” Wen Kexing laughs with a dismissive wave of his hand, grinning from ear to ear. “It was more of a practical concern. If we are trapped in here for months, we might survive it well enough, but there is no telling what state we will be in without access to any sort of grooming tools. The old monster did not exactly tell me what to expect if the technique succeeded. Will our hair keep growing? What about our fingernails? Are we going to look like horrible mountain beasts by the time they finally come for us? Your poor dumb disciple will start crying in fear again.”

“Chengling will cry when he sees us no matter what we look like,” Zhou Zishu sighs, exasperated yet fond. “But I would assume that since our bodies are no longer using food to fuel themselves in the typical sense, that our metabolisms have slowed, or possibly even stopped. Even if our hair and nails keep growing, it will likely be some time before we become terrifying.”

“Hm,” Lao Wen nods in acceptance, “What will we do about keeping clean, though? Luckily, we do not have to concern ourselves too much with dirty dishes, but what about our clothes? What about ourselves? Water can only do so much on its own.”

“I did not expect you to be this squeamish about a little dirt,” Zishu chuckles.

“Ah Xu,” Wen Kexing says flatly, “It is hardly going to be ‘a little dirt’ after several weeks. You should know by now that to touch and be touched by you is one of my life’s dearest delights, but if you truly intend to forego soap and cleanliness for an entire month or more, I am not sharing a bed with you. For sleeping, or anything else.”

Zhou Zishu arches a brow at him in disbelief.

“Would you care to know how long it had been since I had a bath when we first met?”

“Just because I could tell you were beautiful beneath all of that filth does not mean I was willing to bed you before you got a chance to wash yourself,” Lao Wen huffs, “I do have standards.”

Zishu makes a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, but his expression is still doubtful.

“Ah well,” Wen Kexing sighs, deciding to sidestep the obvious but unspoken opinion about what his standards are, or lack thereof, “There must be something in here we can use. Maybe there are stores of rice in with the grain and farming supplies. I doubt it would be safe to eat, but if we cook it, the water leftover might still be good for washing… And Rong Xuan was married. Perhaps his wife left something behind.”

“Perhaps you mother did.”

Lao Wen tenses in reflexive discomfort, as he still does at any mention of his past, but then the moment passes and he smiles.

“I doubt my parents would have come here very often,” he tells him softly. “They supported the idea of the armory, but neither of them were that invested in becoming martial masters themselves. They wanted to heal people. But…it would be nice, if we found something of them here. If they left something behind that we could use to make a life together.”

“You are good at this,” Zhou Zishu compliments him sincerely, gesturing to the living space they have already arranged, “I never would have thought this place could feel even half this hospitable. You did a good job with our manor too, before it was destroyed. Chengling barely knows how to boil water, so I know you must have helped him with more than you claimed. The Valley Master is truly a man of many hidden talents.”

“I was only the leader of the ghosts for eight years,” Wen Kexing reminds him, bitterness seeping into his smile, “Even if the old chief favored me for my ruthlessness, I was still more of a servant or a slave than a ward. If I am good at building a life from ruins now, it is because I was never given an option to do otherwise.”

“Lao Wen, I-”

He holds up a hand to halt his apology.

“You do not have to be sorry,” he says, “Not for what happened, and not for making me talk about it either. We have eternity to share together, so I imagine all of our old wounds will eventually be dragged out into the sunlight at some point. It is not the easiest thing to discuss, but…I want to tell you. I want to tell you everything.”

Zhou Zishu puts his hand over his on the tabletop, squeezing his fingers in reassurance.

“There is no rush,” he reminds him, “As you said; we have time. I will be here, and I will listen when you are ready.”

He chuckles softly.

“Of course, those things are easier to talk about while enjoying a jar of wine together, like we used to,” Zishu sighs wistfully, “Of all the things we are going to give up for this life, that might be the most difficult for me to part with.”

“But Ah Xu, we brought the sweetest wine with us!” Wen Kexing grins, leaning towards him over the table.

“…You mean in your flask?” Zhou Zishu blinks at him frowningly, “We cannot drink it anymore, even if you brought some.”

“I have been drinking this wine every day,” Lao Wen insists, eyes curving upwards as his smile deepens, mischievous and extremely self-satisfied. “This is a taste I would not sacrifice for anything.”

Zishu’s brows furrow in consternation, sensing a ruse, but not certain what the endgame could be yet.

“…Do you not want to know where the wine is?” Wen Kexing asks sweetly.

“If I ask, will it end this silly game any faster?”

“Hm, perhaps. That is entirely up to you.”

“…Where is it?” Zhou Zishu huffs out with a grumble, looking terribly put-upon.

“Here!” Lao Wen exclaims happily, placing one long finger directly against Zishu’s lips.

Zhou Zishu catches his hand on instinct, fighting a losing battle with the urge to roll his eyes.

“You are utterly preposterous.” He informs him evenly.

“I am also hopelessly charming and completely inescapable,” Wen Kexing agrees without the slightest hint of shame. He moves his finger to lightly trace one corner of Zhou Zishu’s mouth. “You, on the other hand, are both delicious and intoxicating. If were not trapped inside, I would whisk you out beneath the moonlight and drink you in until both of us were dizzy with sensation.”

“Do these types of brazen declarations actually work on people?” Zishu wonders.

“They worked on you,” Wen Kexing points out with a shrug, still smiling like a fool.

Zhou Zishu lets out long-suffering sigh, seemingly defeated, but he meets Lao Wen’s gaze without hesitation. A few heartbeats pass, and he turns his head slightly, just enough to brush the barest whisper of a kiss across the tip of the finger still hovering near his cheek. He smiles at the surprised silence that follows, pulling the hand in his grip closer to him, deciding to press a kiss into its palm as well.

Wen Kexing’s eyes on him are molten.

Zhou Zishu laughs.

“Well, I think we both know what works on you.”

“Ah Xu,” Wen Kexing exhales his name with a stuttering breath, a thread of supplication weaving through his voice.

Zishu’s expression softens exponentially.

“Alright.”

Zhou Zishu wakes up the next morning with a mild soreness that is becoming typical. His freshly rinsed clothes from the day before are folded neatly near the bed, along with their battered little washbasin and a damp handkerchief so he can wipe himself down before dressing. Wen Kexing is sitting at the narrow table in their reading nook, the sun sifting in through the high windows painting him with sweeps of warm golden light. His hair is still unbound, softening the angles of his face as he pours over the open book in front of him. A comb is loosely clasped within his left hand, seemingly forgotten.

Zishu takes the time to admire the scene in silence. He thinks again about what it means to take care of someone. To make a life from the ground up with nothing but your bare hands and your sincerity. To build a home within the walls of someone else’s heart.

He is still not certain he knows how to go about it, but no one said that the first step had to be the largest one.

It takes him a few minutes to quietly sweep away the traces of sweat and other things from the night before and pull his robe on. He is certain that Wen Kexing must have noticed, but he seems to be engrossed with his reading. Without waiting for acknowledgment or invitation, he pads across the room to pluck the wooden comb from Lao Wen’s elegant fingers.

“You won’t be able to read properly with your hair falling in your eyes like that.” He says it more brusquely than he meant to. His mouth twitches downward briefly in discontentment. That was not how he wanted to begin this.

For his own part, Wen Kexing simply turns his head slightly to blink up at him, a mix of warmth and mild surprise on his face.

“Are you offering to help me look pretty, Ah Xu?”

“You hardly need my help with that.”

Lao Wen shifts in his seat a little, as though he is so pleased with the compliment that he cannot quite hold it in.

“By all means,” he tells him, trying and failing to hold back a wide curling smile, “If you want to touch me anywhere, I would be that last person to stop you.”

Zhou Zihsu laughs.

“This I already know,” he says, leaning over to poke at one of the round mouth-shaped bruises along the side of Lao Wen’s throat.

Wen Kexing hisses and pulls a face as Zishu moves to sit behind him.

“And here I thought you were going to be tender with me,” he quips lightly.

Zhou Zishu stills for a moment, a portion of Lao Wen’s silvery hair already gathered in his left hand. He fiddles with the comb and stares and the shoulders of the man in front of him. His expression slides back towards uncertainty.

“I am.” He says finally. Wen Kexing reaches back and pats his knee. He can tell that he is smiling by the tilt of his head, and somehow it seems to ease the tension back out of his shoulders.

Without another word between them, he beings carefully running the comb through Lao Wen’s hair. He does his best to be gentle, but there are a few places with some especially stubborn tangles. Wen Kexing makes a low pained sound as he tries to pull the teeth of the comb through them, and Zhou Zishu pauses once again.

“Have you ever combed someone else’s hair before?” Wen Kexing wonders.

“…No,” Zhou Zishu confesses.

“Not even your shidi’s?” Wen Kexing presses, sounding surprised, “Didn’t you raise him once our master passed? Qin Jiuxiao was still too young to look after himself at the time, was he not?”

“We had servants at the Four Seasons Manor,” Zishu reminds him, “I was the new leader of a struggling sect. I was not going to spend time doing something that could easily be allocated to a maid. I helped him with his studies and I trained him in martial arts. He came to me with his troubles, but the more mundane chores of childrearing were handled by other people. I had too many other things to look after to go out of my way to make sure he was groomed every morning.”

“It was not a condemnation,” Wen Kexing says softly.

“I know.” He sighs.

“Do you wish you could have done more for him, now?”

“I…don’t know,” Zhou Zishu admits, “I don’t know if there was any more I could have done for him even if I wanted to. I was only sixteen when I became responsible for him. I barely knew how to run our sect, let alone how to be someone’s father figure. As his older brother, it was my job to keep him out of trouble, so that is what I tried to do. He had a good heart. A pure heart -like Chengling- and he was just as silly. I tried to make sure he never got his hands dirty the way I had to. We used to dream of the day the Window of Heaven would no longer be needed, and we would wander the jianghu together. Maybe, if that had happened, we might have had the chance for more moments like this.”

His hand trembles slightly and he tugs the comb harder than intended.

“Ai,” Wen Kexing winces, “Start closer to the bottom. It will be easier to get rid of the knots higher up once the ends are free of tangles.”

“Mn,” he acknowledges. “Sorry.”

He glances down at the comb in his hand. A crisp bouquet of carved wooden flowers in a dark cherry lacquer. Almost violet. He runs his thumb over it thoughtfully.

“Did you find this in the armory?” he asks, “It’s a woman’s comb, isn’t it?”

“Ah, no, I brought it with me,” Lao Wen says. His tone is casual, but almost abnormally so. Zishu squints down at the comb again to see if there is anything peculiar about it. But it just looks like a comb.

“Did it belong to your mother?” Zhou Zishu hazards a guess. “I thought the only thing you managed to take with you when the ghosts came was the hairpin.”

“…It belongs to Ah Xiang.”

Oh.

“When she was little, I would help her get dressed and do her hair up in the ugliest little buns you ever saw,” Wen Kexing continues in something of a daze, “I am sure I pulled her hair so many times, but she never complained. She was too scared I would throw her out. When she got a bit older, she would scold me when her braids were sloppy, but she wouldn’t let any of the girls from the department of the unfaithful do them, either. She only wanted me, and to this day I don’t know why.”

By this time Zhou Zishu has managed to tie back a portion of Lao Wen’s hair so it is no longer falling in his eyes. He thinks about attempting the usual little twist he wears it in, but it is already a bit crooked as it is and he suspects that would be beyond his abilities. He smooths the hair back from his forehead one last time, gently pulling a few strands loose at the sides to frame his face the way he likes it.

“She loved you.” He tells him quietly.

“I loved her, too.”

“I know.” He squeezes his shoulder.

“I found the comb in with my things when I woke up after…after…” Wen Kexing’s breathing becomes erratic, and Zhou Zishu wraps him up in his arms, pulling him back against his chest. Kexing refuses to meet his eyes, but he eventually seems to calm himself, reaching up and holding onto Zishu’s wrists for dear life. “I don’t know if there was some sort of mix up in the rush to leave Ghost Valley, or if Ah Xiang left it for me on purpose. Maybe she thought it would give her an excuse to come back, if she wanted. Maybe she just wanted me to remember all those early mornings when I used to do her hair for her. Or maybe… Maybe she thought I would forget her if she didn’t leave something behind.”

“She knew that she was going to miss you,” Zhou Zishu says, pressing a kiss into the crown of his head, “She wanted to make sure that you would miss her, too.”

A child takes after their parent, after all.

“I…was not as nice to her as I could have been,” Wen Kexing says thickly, “At first, it was because it was too dangerous. If the other ghosts knew she was precious to me, they would go after her as soon as it looked like I might be any sort of threat to them. I had to keep her at a distance to keep her safe. But later… Later on, I think I just forgot how to be kind to someone. And so, I was always making her worried that I would throw her away…”

“She knew,” Zhou Zishu soothes, “She knew your intentions. Who else could know you better?”

“You know me better,” Lao Wen sighs. “She was a bit too silly to understand me completely. Her heart was better than mine. She deserved better than me.”

“You raised her well.”

“Not well enough.”

They sit together in silence for a while, each lost in the memories of the children they could not save. There is grief, but there is understanding, too. The wordless empathy of touch. Zhou Zishu holds Wen Kexing in his arms and sees the ways their hurts fit together in perfect likeness. How just to know someone who knows him, someone with whom he freely shares his words and his space and his time without resentment or restraint, has allowed them both to become more of the people they had always wanted to be. And that…is a kind of caring, too.

Perhaps the most important kind.

The rest will come later.

“Lao Wen, I am afraid if you don’t get up, your hair will need combing again,” Zhou Zishu says after a long time has passed. He makes no move to relinquish his embrace, however.

“I’m not getting up,” Wen Kexing says stubbornly, “You can just comb my hair again for me later.”

“Oh?” Zhou Zishu laughs softly, “I thought I wasn’t very good at it.”

“You are not,” Lao Wen tells him bluntly, “But I’m spoiled now. You have to brush my hair for me every day.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

Zhou Zishu smiles, and holds him that much tighter.

“Alright.”

#word of honor #wenzhou #zhou zishu #wen kexing #fic #word of honor spoilers #NO PROOFREADING WE DIE LIKE MEN #this is a mess i don't know what happened lmao

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negandarylsatisfaction · 3 years

Text

[SUMMARY: Negans wives become jealous after he begins to like the new woman who has joined the sanctuary. Taking advantage of her innocence and English not being her main language, the girls plot against her, making Negan go back on one of his own rules.]

Got Negan speaking some spanish.

Smut

Negan and Valentina. PART ONE

"My oh my..." Negan squinted his eyes at the sight of you across the room from him. Not paying attention to who was watching you, you continued organizing cans of fruit as you were told to do that day.

"Is that the new chick you bought here this morning?" Negan looked over at Simon beside him.

"Yeah, I put her on supply duty. Her english isnt so good but she moves quick."

Negan looked back at you, your caramel complexion and long wavy hair catching his attention.

"And why the hell have I not been introduced to her?" Negan responded with a raised brow.

"You're the one who said not to bother you if I found people I felt could fit in here. Trust my judgement, dont you?" Simon asked Negan noticing he wouldnt take his eyes off you.

"Of course I do. I also trust you to tell me when a fine piece of ass joins us, she might want to join the others," he explained referring to his wives. His response causing Simon to shake his head.

"Ehh...shes a little different from the other ones buddy. That's why I didnt mention her."

"Different? How?" Negan asked with interest as he turned to Simon.

"Shes a quiet one."

"The quietest ones are the freakiest," Negan grinned as he chewed on a toothpick.

"What's her name?"

"Valentina," Simon answered crossing his arms. Negan slid the toothpick around his mouth with his tongue before pulling it out and flicking it to the side.

"I'll be right back," Simon watched as Negan made his way to you knowing exactly what he would try to do.

"Excuse me, Miss Valentina is it?" Negan spoke in a charming voice as you continued organizing the cans straight in a box.

"Shit, I dont think I've been properly introduced to you. I do run this place so I should know everyone here, shouldn't I?" Immeditaly you stopped what you were doing and looked up at him with a look of embarrassment.

"I did not know this was your place. My apologies." Negan frowned at you not expecting your politeness or being so attracted to the sound of your accent.

"No need for an apology, darling. Im Negan and it is my upmost pleasure to meet you." Negan spoke charismatically as he slowly checked out what was before him from head to toe. The look of innocence pulled Negan more towards you. Smiling at him you shyly crossed your arms not knowing what else to say.

"How about I give you a tour of my Sanctuary."

"A tour?" You answered with a puzzled expression.

"What's that?" You asked, not knowing too much English there was many words you did not understand.

"A tour, when someone shows you around. Shit, I'll be your personal host. What do you say, honey?"

"Oh, I guess. Yes." Your response exciting Negan.

Negan showed you the men at work, he showed you where everyone got together to eat and then he left his wives for last. He led you into a room with four women. Slightly confused by how they were dressed and how their faces changed when they saw Negan, you did not say a word.

"Dont be shy, sweetheart." Feeling his hand on your lower back as he gently pushed you close inside you smiled nervously.

"These women here are my dear, dear wives." Negan looked back at you to see your reaction. With a frown you looked at each of them as they stared back at you.

"Wives? All of them? I dont understand."

"Mmmhm." Negan bit his bottom lip with a smile.

"These women get special access to many things here at the Sanctuary and all they have to do is be my wife."

Negan explaining to you the rule did not notice the way one of his wives Sara, was looking at you. Right away you began to feel uncomfortable that this man had all these women, you were not sure if he was trying to come on to you with the offer.

"That is um....very nice-" you struggled to find the right words as you took a step back.

"I should get back to my work," Negan fully turned to you with your response.

"See that's the best part," he spoke in a matter of fact tone.

"As my wife you dont have to do any of that work, sweetheart." Standing still, you observed the way he looked at you. Clearly, he was attracted to you.

"In my country...we work for our needs. We work hard...nothing is for free."

"Hm," Negan responded as he looked down at you. He respected your way of thinking, if anything it made him more interested.

"I cant argue with that, darling." Negan winked at you as he stood beside you. The women watched the way he placed his hand on your lower back once again as he led you out of the room. You were the first woman to deny Negans offer but they saw the way he looked at you. They could tell he liked you and they didnt want to share Negan with anyone else.

The next few days you continued to work with the supplies as you had planned. Negan watched as you helped around with the kids, he thought you were a very sweet woman. He thought you had a softer touch than the others. Today you took a different task and helped with the cooking, you didnt notice how much Negan had his eyes on you. The man was captivated by your beauty. As you cut up the vegetables in the kitchen, Negan quietly entered. Humming to yourself, he entered the room and took it upon himself to stand beside you.

"Mind if I keep you company, sweetheart?"

"If that's what you like," your accent making him smirk. Negan leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, an amused expression on his face.

"What?" You looked up at him confused.

"Nothing...its just the way you speak."

His response making you frown, you weren't sure to be offended or not.

"What's wrong with the way I speak?"

Negan chuckled as he stepped closer to you.

"Oh...absolutely, nothing. I actually find it kind of..sexy." He answered with a grin making you look away shyly.

"I know men like you." Negan frowned as you responded with a soft voice.

"Men like me? What's that suppose to mean?"

"Que se-" you cut yourself off not meaning to respond in spanish.

"I mean-"

"Woah woah woah. What was that?" Negan leaned in closer to you.

"Were you about to just tell me off in Spanish?" He asked with half a smile, he couldn't deny it. The sound of you losing your patience in your first language aroused him.

"Please....go on," Negan teased.

"What I was going to say..was that-"

"In spanish, Valentina," the sound in his voice sounding like an order.

"Te gusta coquetear. You like to flirt...you chase after many women...womanizer."

"Mmmmm..." Negan bit his bottom lip and shook his body liking the sound of you talking in your language before he took another step closer.

"Well just for your information, Valentina. I dont chase after women, I flirt. But I cant help when a woman catches my eye like no other has..." His husky voice making you look up at him staring directly down at you.

"And I have to admit, you've really caught my eye." You could feel your cheeks begin to blush before turning away shyly.

"I better finish cooking." Nervously you responded continuing to chop up the vegetables as Negan remained beside you. Feeling his eyes heavily on you, you began to cut faster when suddenly you sliced your finger.

"Ow!" Negan turned serious at the sound of your scream.

"Shit." He instantly took hold of your hand taking a close look at your cut.

"I'm fine, I just-"

"Come here." Negan took you by your wrist to the table and sat you down across from him.

"Its nothing, Negan-"

"You cut yourself pretty fucking deep." Negan pulled out a small bottle of whiskey from his pocket and opened it with his mouth before quickly pouring some on your wound. You gasped trying to pull your hand back but he held you tightly.

"Easy, honey." Negan blew lightly on your wound as he looked at you and relieved the burning sensation.

"Better? Or am I going to get told off again in spanish?" Negan teased making you playfully scowl at him.

"Let me see this." Negan grabbed a cloth and patted it dry. Quietly you watched how gently he moved, how softly he touched your fingers. You had to admit, you were surprised to see a man like him move so lightly with his hands. He seemed so concerned with your wound. Sara, one of his wives unexpectedly walked in catching your hand in his as he treated you. Quickly you pulled away and stood up noticing the irritated look in her eyes.

"Sara, you need something?" Negan turned to her as she changed the expression on her face.

"No, we were just looking for you. All of us have been looking for you." Sara responded as you turned away wrapping your finger in a bandage.

"Alright. I'll be right there. You can go." Sara not liking his response turned and left the room as Negan stood up and walked towards you.

"You always carry a bottle of that stuff on you?" You asked with your back to him.

"Some times, never know when a pretty lady might accidentally wound herself." He teased making you laugh.

"I'm not so bad after all, am I?" His voice made you smile as you tied your finger up.

"You're still a womanizer," you responded playfully.

"Till one catches my eye." Negans tone wasnt as playful as yours, he meant what he said. Not knowing what to respond to that you changed the subject.

"Well thank you, even though it burned," you laughed as he stood behind you.

"I would've finished taking care of it if you didnt get up and run away so fast."

"Its okay, you're a busy man. Your wives are waiting."

"Let them wait." Negan responded not knowing Sara was hearing eveything behind the door. Never had Negan neglected his time with his wives before and they did not like this.

"I got it. Let me finish cooking, I'll see you around." You turned to him with a smile before continuing to make dinner.

Sara had already been complaining to the other women on how much attention Negan had been giving you. Not realizing just how much these women were growing to despise you, you went about your days not thinking of them. Negan on the other hand bought a smile to your lips everytime he came to mind. Everyday he took time out of his day to have some conversation with you. You would always catch him staring at you from afar, it made your heart flutter. He respected the fact that you didnt want to be one of his wives, that you werent like the others but that's what seemed to make him like you more. A couple days later you found yourself back on supply duty. Negan stood by the door as you marked off the number of each item on your clipboard.

"Everything going good?" The sound of his voice instantly make your heart skip a beat. Turning to him with a sweet smile he walked towards you.

"Yes, everything is great."

"Let me take a look at what you've got going on here." Negan stood right behind you looking over your shoulder as he read over what you had written down. The feel of his body so close behind you made your breathing begin to grow unsteady.

"Shit, this looks about right." He murmured behind you. Negan took a peak at the sight of your cleavage watching your chest rise and fall quickly, he could tell you were nervous with him standing so close.

"So, is good?" You questioned him before swallowing nervously.

"Valentina, tell me...how do I say 'very good' in spanish?" He asked close to you.

"Um..its muy bien," Negan licked his lips at the sound of your voice.

"Muy bien," Negans deep voice sent shivers down your spine, you had to admit he sounded smooth.

"Did that sound good?" He asked slowly, it was hard not to show how much you liked it.

"Mhm," Negan grinned behind you hearing the nervous excitement in your tone.

"How about..beautiful?" You suddenly felt Negans hand gently take hold of your waist making you softly gasp.

"Negan.."

"Say it." Taking a deep breath you hesitantly responded.

"Hermosa."

"Hermosa," he whispered behind your ear seductively, you could tell he was trying to turn you on and it was working until you remembered his wives.

"Negan-" you spoke breathlessly finally turning to face him.

"What are you doing? You know how I feel-"

"No I dont. Tell me again," his eyes were intense, he was turned on just as much, if not more than you were. His hands pulled you close against him as you looked up at him hesitantly.

"I'm not one of your wives...that's not who I am..we cant..-" you spoke but your eyes did not follow. He could tell how weak you were, how close you were to giving in to him. He leaned his forehead on yours, making you feel his breath touch your lips.

"Negan....I dont like being with someone who has...who has others."

"I havent touched them since we met," Negan spoke hoarsley. And it was true, the man couldnt bring himself to be sexually aroused by them with how much he thought of you since he met you. You found it hard to believe but it was true. Finally you both closed your eyes and let each others lips press against each other. Negan groaned with his mouth on yours, for so long he had been wanting to taste you. Not as one of his wives, not as just another woman he wanted but a woman he longed for. His lips trailed down the side of your jaw onto your neck as he sucked on it making you moan. Lost in the passion neither of you heard someone enter the room, that someone being Sara.

"Negan," her demanding voice making you jump back turning away from him as you fixed your hair.

"God dammit, what did I tell you about interrupting me?" He yelled at her in frustration.

"I'm sorry, I'll go." Embarrassed and angry, not expecting him to react this way, she left the room as Negan followed to where you moved.

"Now...where were we?" He pulled you against him making you put your hand to his chest to stop him.

"Negan no, I'm sorry. Those girls dont like me-"

"You think I give a shit?"

"Its not just that, I dont do this like this. I'm not one of them." You struggled to explain to the best of your ability in english. Negan felt frustration run through him, so turned on he could burst knowing he was so close to having you. So close until someone barged in and interrupted the moment. Negans breathing was heavy, you could tell how much he wanted you.

"Dont let her ruin what was happening between us."

"Its not her-"

"Then what the fuck is it?!" He suddenly yelled making you back away.

"You dont yell at me! Quien crees que eres!?" Negan raised his brows, a sudden smirk slowly forming on his face.

"So that's what it takes for you to talk to me like that huh? And what exactly did you just say?" Negan stepped closer as you crossed your arms holding the clipboard against you.

"Not that it matters because either way you sound so sexy..." Negan couldnt hide his arrogant and flirtatious side.

"Who do you think you are?" You repeated so he could understand.

"Thinking because you are the leader of this place you can yell at me or fuck me when you want-"

"Oh baby, talking dirty to me now?" Negan was amused by your reaction, his response only irritating you more.

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry." Negan finally gave in, as much as he liked the sound of you speaking in Spanish, he didnt like you being angry with him. As this whole time, you had never become angry with him.

"But if you must know, that's not the way I think, doll. I actually fucking like you." He admitted making you blush.

"Do I wanna fuck you? Of course I do, cant you see how fucking hard you have me? I can't lie about that but, I also fucking like you. Do you see me making any god damn time for my wives? Why do you think they constantly come looking for me when I'm with you?" Negan had a point, either way at that moment you didnt want to speak about it any longer.

"I think I should continue with my work, I'll talk to you later." Turning your back to him you continued to count over the items, Negan walked out in frustration cursing at himself.

Sara angrily ran to the other women and told them what she had just witnessed.

"So that's why hes barely been with us this past month, hes been with that broad," one wife complained.

"Hes never done this before when other women arrived, what makes that chick so special?" Another complained with frustration.

"I dont know but we've got to think of something to get rid of her. She needs to go." Sara responded when suddenly Negan pushed the door open.

"Sara, can I see you for a moment." Negan called out for her making her smile, not realizing Negan was in anything but a good mood.

"Yes, Negan," she responded happily as she closed the door behind her and faced him.

"Do me a favor dont fucking look for me unless I look for you. Dont ask of me, dont call for me, forget I'm fucking here. Understood?"

Sara's jaw dropped not expecting him to ever act this way with her.

"Y-yes. Sure." Angrily he walked off, only confirming the thought in her head that you indeed had to go.

Sara and the women had planned on introducing themselves to you, as they had never spoken to you themselves. As you finished organizing the supply room and locked the door shut you turned to find Negans wives standing outside the door.

"Um hi," nervously you smiled at them as you felt strongly that they disliked you.

"Hi, Valentina right?"

"Yes."

"My name is Sara, this is Susan, Sherry and Lisa."

"Hi, its very nice to meet you." You werent able to look Sara in the eye knowing she had just seen you and Negan together...kissing.

"I know, we havent really met..but why not right?" All the girls laughed simultaneously as you smiled awkwardly.

"We wanted to ask if you'd like to join us for dinner?"

"I-um sure," being completely caught off guard you weren't sure what to say. The girls happily walked with you to the kitchen and you sat with them quietly.

"Look Sara, about what you saw-"

"What about it?" Sara responded playfully.

"We've all been there with him, now it's your turn. Dont feel bad." She laughed as you felt a kick to your gut. You knew Negan had many wives and fooled around with everyone but you still didnt like hearing it.

"He did that with all of us, whenever one of us were new, we were his main priority for a certain time." She lied through her teeth, she knew none of them ever got personal treatment this way. She saw the disappointment in your eyes.

"Oh. I understand." Your expression quickly changing, the girls could tell you liked Negan and was hurt by what you heard.

Their plan of pretending to be nice to you to gain trust was working, the things they told you of Negan made you never want to speak to him. You felt like a fool falling for his words, how could you be so dumb? The man had so many wives and you for some reason thought you were special? Walking outside with them after dinner instantly caught Negans attention. He frowned and squinted his eyes from where he was watching you speak to his wives. Negan had a funny feeling about this and didnt like the sight of it.

"Oh shit, hes coming," you heard one of the girls whisper when Negan suddenly showed up before all of you, his eyes directly on you.

"Ladies."

"Hi, Negan," they all spoke together while you stayed silent making him step up to you.

"I dont get a hello, Valentina?"

"Negan," you muttered low making him look at the other women strangely.

"Valentina....I'd like to have a talk with you. Alone."

"I'd rather not."

"I didnt ask," he shot back making you look up at him. Looking back at his wives as Negan walked ahead, you could tell they were annoyed but, what could you do. Quietly you followed Negan far from where his wives stood before he turned to you with a very serious look.

"I dont want you talking to them."

"Why not?"

"Cause I said so. I dont trust it," you scoffed rolling your eyes.

"What dont you trust? That they're making me see you for who you really are?"

Negan frowned stairing down at you, his eyes looking directly into yours.

"What are they telling you about me?" He spoke low leaning his face close to yours.

Before you could respond Sara suddenly appeared besides both of you.

"Negan I have to tell you something."

"God dammit Sara, havent you learned-"

"I'm pregnant," you gasped at her words. A heart sinking feeling as you felt a knot in your throat. Sara was desperate to push you away in any way she could.

"Excuse me?" Negan looked at her puzzled as he walked towards her slowly.

"I-I should go." You began to walk away before Negan reached back and grabbed your arm without turning back to you.

"No Valentina. Stay right here. Now, what the fuck did you say, Sara?"

"I'm- I'm pregnant, Negan."

"Bullshit," he responded coldly.

"What the fuck do you think you're trying to do?" He spoke with a low angry voice, he knew exactly what Sara was up to and he wasnt going to let it happen.

"Its true, I am."

"I havent touched you in over a month."

"Did you forget that time in the supply closet?" She asked with wicked eyes, you looked away in shock, feeling disgust.

"Oh you want to play that fucking game with me?" Negan yelled at Sara charging towards her as she stared up at him boldly.

"Go back to the fucking room. Get the hell out of my face." Sara looked over at you in disapproval before storming off back inside. Negan turned back to find you with glossy eyes, he could tell you were attempting to hold back tears.

"Valentina-"

"I should've known. I knew you was a womanizer, a man with many-many wives." You struggled to express yourself properly.

"Val, shes lying. I havent touched her since I met you. I didnt want to."

"My name is Valentina," you snapped at him with your accent emphasizing on your name.

"And it doesnt matter, we are not you know...um a couple or whatever-"

"We can be."

"I dont want to be one of your wives!"

"I dont want you as one of them god dammit, I dont even want them!" Negan yelled making you silent. You didnt know what to believe with everything they had told you.

"I just want to go to my room." You responded in a calm manner as you looked away.

"Then go," Negan walked off angrily that you wouldnt believe him, angry that he ever lived the way he did at all. Quietly you went off to your room just wanting to cool off. Negan headed to where the wives were to discipline them and happened to walk into the hallway hearing them talk their next plan out.

"We have to get rid of her, hes not giving up on her and shes-"

"Shes not going to leave, she has nowhere to go, " Sherry responded.

"And Negan sure as hell wont make her leave. We're stuck with her."

"Unless......unless we do something to her." Sara suggested as Negan over heard with a straight face.

"What do you mean do something to her? Like hurt her?" Susan asked in excitement.

"Yeah, I mean, Negan wont know. He can just think it's an accident." Negan pressed his lips together angrily at the thought of anyone hurting you.

"What do you girls say?" Sara asked looking at all of them eager for a response. It didnt take long for them all to agree. Negan had a rule to never hurt women, but hearing them even think of hurting you made him want to bend some rules.

"We'll just get her one day while Negans out of the sanctuary. Trick her into being alone with us-" The women suddenly gasped at the sound of Negan entering the room.

"Negan, we weren't expecting you," Sara laughed nervously hoping he hadn't heard anything.

"Oh, I know that," Negan responded sarcastically as he stood before them.

"I needed to have a talk with you ladies. Now you ladies know what one of my number one rules are, dont you?"

"Yeah, to not do any harm to women." Lisa responded confidently.

"Exactly, now what are some things I hate?" Negan stepped closer in a very slow manner.

"Lies," responded one wife.

"Being crossed," responded another as Negan slowly pulled out his gun.

"Exactly! Now do you ladies know what this is?" They watched as he placed a silencer on his gun before pointing it at a random space.

"Is that a-" before Sherry could finish he pointed the gun at Lisa and shot her dead making all of them scream.

"So I heard from a little bird that you guys had a plan." Negan pointed again and shot Sherry.

"Shit-" Sara muttered in fear in shock at the cold blooded action Negan was taking.

Quietly you sat on your bed not being able to stop thinking about Negan. Were you actually starting to have feelings for this man? Maybe you should've let him really express himself to you, you knew those women didnt like you after all. With a sigh you stood up and decided to go find Negan and really have a one on one conversation with him.

Negan had by now shot down everyone besides Sara, terrified she put her hands up as Negan walked towards her.

"You thought you could cross me and get away with it?" Negan smirked as she shook her head.

"I...I apologize. I p-p-promise I wont-"

"A little to late for that dont you think?"

Walking towards the main room you could see the door cracked so you knew he was in there. Just as you reached the door you slowly opened it to a sight you would never forget.

"Ne-" you gasped just as Negan pulled the trigger and shot Sara through the head. You let out a scream covering your mouth in shock, Negan turned to you as you observed what was before you.

"Valentina," the look of complete terror in your eyes you couldnt believe what you saw. Visibly shaking, your eyes fell on him then back to his gun still in his hand. Quickly putting it away he took a step forward making you scream taking a step back. Negan could tell he had just instilled fear into you, fear of him.

"Valentina, sweetheart.. I can explain."

Not saying a word as you struggled to breathe you slowly took another step back before making a quick run for it.

"Valentina!" Negan yelled running after you catching you from behind in the middle of the hallway. You screamed as he covered your mouth and held you against him not letting you go.

"I'm not gonna hurt you!" He yelled as you cried trying to get away from him before he pulled you down on the floor against him.

"Shh, listen to me," his hand still over your mouth as he held your arms down around you.

"I had to do it," Negan whispered in your ear out of breath. He could feel you trembling against him, he hated knowing he made you feel this way.

"You think I wanted to do that? You know I dont hurt women but...those women wanted to hurt you. And I wasnt going to fucking allow that." You cried trying to push his hands away, you didnt believe him.

"I know you're scared but you have to trust me dammit!" Negan having more strength than you exhausted you, finally you gave up out of breath against him. Feeling you relax in his arms he slowly dropped his hand away from your mouth. Hesitantly you looked back at him in a way you had never looked at him before.

"No.. don't do that." He whispered looking down at you.

"Dont look at me like I'm a damn monster," you couldnt help noticing the blood splatter on the bottom side of Negans face before looking back into his eyes.

"You killed those women..." you spoke in a shaky voice.

"You werent suppose to see that."

Shaking your head in disbelief you kept picturing all four of their bodies laying dead on the floor. You couldnt believe the same man so gentle with your wound could do so much damage. You had no idea the kinds of things Negan had done.

"No....I-this isnt right.." you slowly began to push yourself away before quickly standing up and rushing off. Just wanting to get away from him you ran into a random room not realizing it was his bedroom. Before you could rush back out Negan entered and locked the door behind him.

"Now you're gonna hear me."

"Negan, please I want to go. Please." You began to cry as he walked towards you with deeply knitted brows.

"You think I'm gonna hurt you?" You couldnt look him in the eye as he stood inches away from you.

"Those women wanted you dead which is why they're dead and you think I'd fucking hurt you?" Slowly blinking through your tears you looked up at him hesitantly.

"Dead?" You whispered confused.

"Yes they wanted you dead and they were going to hurt you the next time I wasnt around and I would've killed them then too." Looking down you noticed the view of his gun, instantly making you uncomfortable. Negan followed your eyes and could tell it made you feel unsafe.

"You want me to put it away, then will you fucking listen to me?"

Without you saying a word he slowly pulled it out of his pocket and hid it in a drawer beside him.

"Why?" You suddenly asked looking up at him innocently.

"Why what?"

"Why for me...you do this? I dont understand I-"

"I thought I made myself clear about that, sweetheart." Negan slowly stepped closer to you not wanting to frighten you.

"I cant help when a woman catches my eye and I haven't had a woman catch my eye in a long fucking time."

Got cut off with this post, I'll post part 2 in a bit!

#jeffrey dean morgan #the walking dead negan #negan x you #negan fan fiction #negan twd #twd fic

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floralseokjin · 4 years

Text

The (dick) massage

⇢ and beyond timeline

[saga index] [drabble index]

kim seokjin x reader // smut // 2,177 words

Beep, beep! Beep, beep!

“Yes!” Seokjin cheered, immediately ending the massage he’d been giving you. He tapped your ass lightly as he got off you. “Okay, let’s pack it up. My turn.”

You twisted your neck to catch a look at him from where you were lying braless and belly down on your bed. “What? That can’t have been fifteen minutes.” Although despite your complaints, you sat up, reaching for your t-shirt to throw back on.

“You’re right. I think you extended the alarm an extra fifteen when I wasn’t looking.” Smartass. You hit his stomach with the back of your hand, he just exhaled dramatically. “Oooff.”

“Get on your stomach,” you rolled your eyes.

He had his purple t-shirt off immediately, throwing it in your face playfully. You did not see the funny side, staring him daggers, but he didn’t seem to care, lying down and in turn giving you the perfect view of the never-ending expanse of his back and shoulders. He turned his head to look at you “Don’t get moody. Fair is fair.”

He was right you supposed. Those wore the rules. He massages you, you massage him. Those fifteen minutes always seemed to go by so fast though… It was much better to be the receiver than the masseuse. But yes, fair was fair.

You sat astride Seokjin’s ass, gripping his waist to roll playfully into him. “Stop being a pervert,” he groaned.

“As if you don’t do it to me.”

He had nothing to say back to that, you were right, so off you got to work, massaging the muscles of his back slowly and thoroughly, working your way up to his shoulders then back down, all the way to his waist, circling the flesh with your thumbs. And all the while trying really hard to ignore, what can only be described as, the most obnoxious sex noises you’d ever heard in your entire life. Not that they were new to you. He always did it.

“Seokjinnn,” you whined. “This is why I don’t like massaging you.”

He gasped, majorly affronted, and lifted his neck. “What am I doing?”

“Um, you sound like you’re getting fucked in the ass.”

“Oh.” He paused, sounding smug when he continued. “I know what that sounds like.”

“Shut up,” you clipped, pushing him. Boy was never going to stop bragging about how you’d let him do you in the ass – on multiple occasions now.

You carried on massaging him, knowing the minutes were passing by. Just less than halfway now, this torture was nearly over. You kneaded the small of his back, eliciting yet another loud moan from him. “Seriously, you’re doing it on purpose now!” His laugh confirmed just that. “Jin, stop. My neighbours will complain.”

He laughed harder but had the decency to sound apologetic when he spoke. “They would’ve long complained by now.”

Thankfully, after that, he stopped teasing you, letting you finish the rest of the massage in peace. When your phone alarm finally went off, you reached for it, feeling him begin to turn under you. You shifted, raising yourself up as he rolled onto his back. You were checking your notifications by this point, distracted, so when you sat back down on him you were surprised at what you felt.

“What the hell is that?” You questioned, bouncing from his erection in surprise. Where had it even come from? You dropped your phone to the bed to cross your arms, looking down at him judgingly.

“I think I turned myself on.” At least he seemed vaguely confused. Only he could turn himself on by fake moaning. He looked at you, gaze, what, hopeful? You knew what was coming. “Wanna... massage something else?”

You kept your arms crossed. “What’s in it for me?” Two massages back to back was unheard of, even if one was his dick.

He pretended to think, bringing a hand up to his chin. “Hm. The inner fulfilment of giving me an orgasm?” You rolled your eyes, reaching for your phone. That panicked him. “Wait, I was just jo–”

He shut up when he saw you click on the clock app, bringing up timer once more. You set the time, looking down at him before you hit start, trying to sound as disinterested as possible. Inside you really wanted to get your hands on him. “If you don’t cum in ten minutes, you don’t cum at all.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, you’re making it competitive? That’s hot.” Of course he’d find that hot, it shouldn’t surprise you. He grinned. “But also easy. Should’ve made it five.”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. Devious as ever, just like the smirk on your face. He caught on straight away. “No cheating,” he warned, point a finger your way. He wasn’t even distracted when you pulled his shorts down, boxers with them. “Seriously, no cheating.”

You didn’t reply, smirk now a grin as you placed your phone next to him and settled your ass on his thighs, knees either side of him. “Ready, set, GO!”

You hit start, attention now on his cock, bobbing against his abs. Instead of making a beeline for it like he expected, you placed your hands on each thigh, giving them a quick squeeze before you started to trace your fingernails up and down the skin.

He groaned loudly, already assuming you were cheating. “You’re wasting time!” The large vein in his neck looked mighty angry.

“I’m making it better,” you insisted. “Making you more sensitive.” It was working too. Goosebumps has started to pop up and you could feel the slightest of trembling under your fingertips. Seokjin had always had sensitive thighs, especially when you mouth was on them – but it was strictly hand stuff right now. This was a massage after all. A dick massage.

On cue, said dick twitched and he made a noise of indignation. “I’m already super sensitive when it comes to you. You’ve literally wasted a min–”

He shut up instantly when he felt your left palm squeeze around the base of him, twitching once again. You wrapped your right hand around the shaft, closer to the head. This would be a two hand job. (Two hand-job – hah!) You brought them up, and then down, soon making a constant rhythm as you jerked him off.

“Fuck,” he muttered, gaze practically burning a hole into his cock. His stomach clenched. He loved when you used two hands on him, loved how he still had a bunch of length left even with both your fists wrapped around him.

“A little faster,” he prompted, hips riding up a little, hungry for pleasure. You obeyed, almost as if you couldn’t help it – you couldn’t, stopping the hand on his base to squeeze tight, letting your right hand get to work. You jerked him quickly, the new pace startling him, especially when you started gliding your fist over the head, gaining a rhythm that had him rocking his hips up into you. “Yeah, just like that,” he murmured, almost strained as he held his breath.

Damn, no matter how hot this was, you weren’t going to let him cum this easily. You removed the hand at his base and slowed the movement of your right, still gliding over the sensitive flesh of his head, just leisurely now.

“You’re evil.” He whined, voice heavy and thick. You just chuckled.

He was itching for you to go faster, bucking into you every now and then, until he lost patience entirely. “That’s cheating,” you told him once he’d wrapped his hand around yours, guiding your motions and in turn speeding you up.

“You’re slowing down on purpose.” Would he ever stop whining? Probably not. So you let him guide you – mainly because it was always so hot when he did. You couldn’t explain it.

He instantly made your strokes faster, shorter, concentrating on just the tip as he glided your palm over him again and again. His breath was quickening, concentration locked in his eyes as he stared up at you, almost silently begging you not to mess around anymore.

You traced the fingertips of your free hand along his thigh, feeling him tense up immediately as you leant forward. He felt your grip tighten around his cock and let out a groan, knowing you’d given into his motions. Slowly, still a little hesitant, he loosened his hold on your hand and dropped it to the bed, trusting you to carry on.

You did. You jerked him quickly, firmly, listening to his quiet moans. He noticed your gaze travel to the phone by his head. “How long’s left?”

You shrugged, not done teasing him yet as the smallest of smiles appeared on your face. “I don’t know.”

You did know. He had just under five minutes – well, nearly four… Still unable to quit messing around your left hand stretched out, fingers pinching his nipple. “Get off,” he groaned, brushing you away. He sounded annoyed now.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you laughed. Didn’t sound very genuine.

“Baby, please,” he murmured, linking your fingers together. He’d resorted to begging now, your grip loosening unintentionally with all that distraction. He brought your hand to his balls, directing you to massage them as he helped. “Make me cum.”

Now he was just playing dirty. You couldn’t not let him cum when he was speaking like that, looking at you like that. You were instantly a woman on a mission, knowing exactly what to do in order to make him lose it. His breathing quickened once again, ab muscles clenching with the pressure, thighs stiffening under your ass, balls tightening as you rolled over them with your palm.

Not long after, he came with a grunt, a hand gripping you tight at the waist, and the annoying Beep, beep of your phone alarm. You ignored it of course, stroking him for all he was worth as he came across his stomach, body slowly relaxing as his dick followed suit, growing limp.

It was only then that you let go, leaning over for your phone to knock that annoying shrill off. When you looked Seokjin’s way he was smiling up at you, stroking the inside of your thigh with his thumb. Orgasms always turned him soft. However, playtime for you was not over.

“You lost.”

The smile fell from his face instantly. “What? I came before the alarm.”

“You were halfway coming.”

“You didn’t mention anything about that. You can’t go making things up to suit you.” He was outraged. He hated losing. “Besides, you purposely slowed down towards the end. It wasn’t–”

You couldn’t hold it in any longer, bursting out with laughter. He stopped abruptly, realising you were only joking around with him. He’d managed to succeed – by the skin of his teeth you may add, but it was still an accomplishment.

“Mean,” he tutted, grabbing your hips. “You’re mean.” He pulled you down to meet his mouth, kissing you loudly. “Give the best hand jobs though.”

You squealed all the way, trying to angle your body and clothing away from the cum puddle settled on his stomach. “Don’t get cum on me.”

He pushed you back, looking baffled. “You did this.”

In your hand, your phone started vibrating, kicking into tune. “Oh,” you looked over, seeing your best friend’s face. “Lina’s facetiming me.”

“Ignore it.”

“No can do.” You caught the look on his face. “What? I haven’t seen her all week.” You weren’t being unreasonable, were you?

“Babe, I’m lying here practically naked.” You weren’t particularly listening, sitting back up to answer the call. “You can’t—

“Lina, hi,” you greeted, speaking quickly. “I’m going to mute myself, one sec, I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay! Why? What are you doing?”

You didn’t reply, muting her and placing the phone face down on the mattress as Seokjin looked at you in mildly irritated disbelief. “You can’t just leave me like this!”

“Funny because I am,” you shrugged. “I’ll be on the couch. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she can’t see anything.”

You started to move, climbing off him. “Don’t you dare.” He warned, looking at you with wide eyes. You didn’t listen.

“Come say hi when you’re decent,” you grinned, stopping to dip your pinkie in a blob of his cum. You brought it to your mouth, swiping it clean with your tongue. “Byeee!”

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, pushing his head back into the pillows in pure (melodramatic) despair.

Grabbing your phone, you made sure to keep Seokjin hidden, holding it your chest until you were safely sat on your couch, perfect view of your boyfriend in all his shame-filled naked glory.

You unmuted Lina, your face filling the camera. “Okay, I’m back!”

“What were you doing?” She asked again, visibly confused and curious.

“Nothing,” you dismissed, shaking your head as you grinned.

She narrowed her eyes, knowing you all too well. “Why do you have that evil grin on your face?”

From your bed, hidden from Lina, Seokjin shouted loudly. “BECAUSE SHE IS EVIL!”

#seokjin smut #bts smut #seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #floralseokjin:writings #fic:crystallised

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potassium-pilot · 3 years

Text

Prompt 6: Avatar

“How do you stand it?” asked Estinien with a small growl in his voice.

“Stand what?” replied Aymeric curiously, unsure what he could possibly withstand.

“Having Dia in your house. Ever since I joined the Scions, she’s been a nuisance. I’ve not known peace. I’ll be on my own trying to eat, and she’ll appear from nowhere to sit down and interrogate me.”

The two engaged in a long overdue chat, borne from a request made by the Lord Commander to both Estinien (“Please, remember to stop by Ishgard sometime, old friend. I would certainly welcome a bit of catching up” Aymeric asked once upon a time) and Tataru (“I somehow doubt he’ll stop by Ishgard. Could I trouble you for an occassional update as you also provide for Dia?”) As an old friend, and one of the Scion’s most generous financial and supply contributors, she was more than happy to oblige, and even conspire to make him see the good Lord Speaker.

“The man will drown me in questions”, complained Estinien at the time.

“Who wouldn’t?!” Tataru countered, “It’s important to him, and as he’s a backer of the Scions, I would much rather keep him happy! Don’t you want to at least see your oldest friend again?”

And so he did. And so he found himself in the parlor of Borel Manor sipping on tea, sans birch syrup for the dragoon.

“How is she interrogating you?” Aymeric inquired.

“She’ll badger me with questions about the meal I’m eating and how my day is going, and make all sorts of strange quips. I don’t understand why either. She wasn’t like this when the four of us entreated Hraesvelgr, or even recently when we freed Tiamat and fought the lunar primals.”

Aymeric set his tea down on the table. “My friend, having experienced real interrogation, I believe you’re being rather dramatic.”

Estinien brought his gaze to his lap, rather embarrassed at the idea that he managed somehow to forget Aymeric’s ordeal at the Vault. It was never far from his mind, however. The image of his closest friend battered and bruised and the image of the knight who dared to protect Dia impaled by a spear of light haunted him every now and again.

“…perhaps a better choice of words was in order. Forgive me”, said Estinien meekly.

Aymeric released a sigh through his nose. “I can find it in my heart to forgive you…if you give Dia a chance. She’s not herself at work, and she’s trying to be herself with you, and engaging you in the longstanding pasttime of ‘welcoming you to a new place’ is a part of it.”

“How do you mean ‘at work’?”

“The Scions are as much employment as they are her second family. She’s rather singleminded in her focus when it comes to her assignments given by them. When no work is to be found with the Scions, it’s a very different story. ‘Twas much the same with the two of us once, and clearly, you’ve only ever engaged with her when she was working.”

Estinien harumphed and said, “Bollocks. You don’t become a different person just because you have a task at hand.”

“Really? Because I’ve watched you do just that.”

Estinien growled, but accepted defeat. He was right, after all. “Fine. I just don’t understand how she can be that chummy with the lot of us, then.”

“As I understand it, that group went through a rather harrowing experience together, a change from usually sending Dia into the harrowing experience alone.” Estinien couldn’t help but notice a tinge of resentment in his friend’s remark. Regardless, he responded, “From the meetings I’ve been dragged into, ‘harrowing’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

“Oh?”

“Indeed. The woman’s inhuman, Aymeric. No one could have survived what she did, yet she’s still here. I simply don’t understand why, and she refuses to explain.”

“Have you asked?”

“Yes, more than once. She simply doesn’t go into detail beyond what I’m sure you already know.”

Dia explained most of what transpired on the First to him after her official return when she managed to awaken the Scions. He was sure there was some sensitive information for Scion ears only that he couldn’t be privy to, but what was it that not even Estinien could know?

“And the other Scions know naught?”

“They mentioned that a wayward soul aligned with hers.” Ardbert, Aymeric thought.

“I’m well aware of Ardbert.”

“Ardbert?” Estinien shot back quizically.

“Aye, the Warrior of Darkness.”

“What in hells is she doing with a Warrior of Darkness in her soul?”

“Did they truly not discuss this in those meetings of yours?”

“Wasn’t exactly a topic of focus.”

“Fair enough”, Aymeric conceded, “At any rate, she’s incredible, is she not?”

“I’m still concerned she’s not saying everything she needs to say.”

“Hm, surviving impossible situations, refusing to discuss certain matters outright and going to great measures to avoid a conversation she does not wish to be a part of? Who could do such things, I wonder?” Aymeric faked consideration, enjoying teasing the dragoon.

“You’ve made your point”, Estinien sternly fired back, “I just wish she’d tell me what that bloody crystal does.”

“Crystal?”

Estinien raised his eyebrows at the question. “Have you not seen it?”

“No, I haven’t. What crystal?”

“There’s this strange yellow crystal that I caught her fiddling with, and when I asked about it, she hastily put it away and ran off.”

That concerned Aymeric, to say the least. What was she doing not telling him something? Not telling the Scions something?

“I’m telling you, something is off with the woman. Clutching crystals, carrying warriors of darkness in her soul- I don’t like it, Aymeric. Something’s wrong.”

Aymeric stayed silent. He was pondering just what she could be hiding. What piece was he missing?

“Speaking of, didn’t you say she’d be joining us?”

“She should have been here by now, yes. Why don’t I try contacting her? I’m sure she just landed herself into becoming a helping hand, as is her wont.”

In fact, Dia was hiding in the hallway near the parlor during that whole conversation. At first, she just wanted to leave the two of them alone for a bit, see how they’d do before she would walk in. Then, they started talking about her. They were going to demand answers, answers she couldn’t bring herself to give.

They were going to leave her once they found out, she just knew it.

She felt exactly one thing, and that was a desperate need to flee, escape from the hall before they could ask anything. She would leave them before they could leave her. Quickly, she teleported from the hall to the aetheryte in Mor Dhona.

“Did you hear that?” Aymeric inquired.

“I did, aye. Did someone teleport in?”

Aymeric stepped towards the hall quickly to investigate the sound of a teleportation spell. No one was in the hall.

“Maybe I misunderstand, but it could be that someone teleported out rather than in.”

“…that wasn’t her, was it?” Estinien hypothesized cautiously.

“I’m…unsure.” Aymeric put a hand on the linkpearl and attempted to contact her.

Nothing.

After another attempt brought no change, he decided to resort to the best person hunter in Eorzea: Tataru Taru. As she wasn’t available on his linkpearl, this required an in-person visit.

“I hate to cut this short, as I was the one who bid you come, but—“

“No need to apologize. I’ll come with you.”

The two teleported to the aetheryte in Mor Dhona and entered the Rising Stones proper.

“Oh, welcome, Lord Commander! And welcome back, Estinien. Did you two enjoy tea?” greeted Tataru cheerfully.

“Aye, for a while,” answered Estinien, “but I’m afraid we have a problem now.”

“Oh?”

Trying to hide his worry, Aymeric asked, “Did Dia come by here, per chance?”

Tataru shook her head. “No, I haven’t seen her since our meeting yesterday. I thought she was with you.”

“She was, but she had left the house earlier before he arrived to handle some leves, and promised to be back in time for tea. She didn’t come. I contacted her only to have my calls ignored.”

Tataru’s eyes widened.

“I’m telling you, it’s that hells-damned crystal and that Ardbert you mentioned” Estinien accused, “What else could make her act like this?”

“Crystal?” Tataru inquired.

“We can worry about the crystal later”, Aymeric responded, “Our first concern should be discerning her location.”

“Maybe you two should return to Ishgard, ask around and see if anyone’s seen her. I can send Hoary to ask around Mor Dhona and make sure she didn’t come by here”, proposed the lalafell.

“Not a bad idea”, replied Estinien. The two elezen teleported back to Ishgard, ready to begin a search. “I’ll take care of the asking, Aymeric. You should be there in case she comes back.”

“Estinien-“

“That wasn’t a request, Aymeric. Go home.”

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

They would get nowhere. They would never get to where she went.

Dia found herself in the Crystarium. The people happily greeted her as she walked through the settlement, but she could only return half-hearted sentiments. She was a bit distracted, after all. She settled on the Pendants as it offered peace and quiet while still fully assuring that no one would be able to contact her by linkpearl. The innkeeper led her to her old room, exactly as she had left it, minus the half-eaten food and Ardbert’s wandering spirit interrupting her respite.

She sat down on the bed, unsure what to make of what happened, of what she heard, of what Estinien was truly thinking. It was one thing that he was a bit grouchy about the way she would tease him when she was there. It was another thing to accuse her of becoming something completely different, of being inhuman. She’s not a monster, after all.

…right?

“I’m not a monster”, she said to herself, trying to convince herself that she was, in fact, as human as the rest. But that doubt still lingered. Beq Lugg said her soul was the densest soul she’d ever seen. Why would Emet-Selch have bothered if she were simply another “inferior being” as he put it? Where did Azem end and Dia begin? Was there ever truly a Dia? Was she technically Ardbert as well if that were the case? She flung her head into her hands, unsure what to make of any of it.

“You’re going to have to go back, you know.”

Ardbert’s voice rang through her head.

“Oh, what do you know?” she retorted to her eighth part.

“I was there. Whether you like it or not, I do see some things.”

“Try to see less, will you?”

“Would that I could.”

She sighed. “I’m well aware that I need to go back. I’m sure eventually, Aymeric is going to become concerned about how long I’ve been gone, as will the other Scions.”

“So what are we doing here, then?”

“You know what we’re doing here.”

“Ah yes, a completely rational, logical decision that only came after you gave it complete consideration and immeasurable forethought.”

She scowled at his disembodied voice. “Sarcasm is ill-becoming of dead men.”

“Good thing I live in you now. You have enough sass for two.”

She groaned, “What in hells do I tell them?” She put on a very saccharine, pleasant tone. ‘Hey, by the way, I’m eight parts of an amaurotine that was on the same council as Elidibus, Emet-Selch, Lahabrea, and all those lovely other people we’ve met that hurt all of you one way or another. I might have even been best friends with Emet-Selch, but don’t worry, I’m NOT an Ascian. I was one of good ones!’”

“Perfect, you already know your lines.”

“I’m not telling them that! That’s absurd!”

“What’s absurd is crossing time and space to avoid a conversation.”

She threw herself back into the bed and stared at the ceiling. “They hurt so many people, Ardbert. What would they think if I told them I was an ally?”

“I think somehow, they’ll figure out that you are two different people.”

“How can they figure that out when I’m not too sure myself?” Dia asked through tears.

“Simple. They wouldn’t give a damn.”

“How do you know?”

“Azem didn’t join them in summoning Zodiark and you didn’t actively try to kill them.”

Dia stayed silent for a moment. “Are we who we say we are, Ardbert?”

“We need to make a distinction here. I see Azem as a person who lived in the time of the ancients and served in their government. I see an ascian as a back-stabbing piece of amaro shite who serves Zodiark. Now other than that big gaping hole you left in Hades, you’ve never been a backstabber, nor are you amaro shite, and unless there’s been a massive change of heart that I’m unaware of, you definitely do not serve Zodiark. Now what do you think?”

She lied still, trying to take in the feeling of the bright linen beneath her fingers, the solidity of the ground beneath her boots, the smell in the air like fresh laundry and cookies. Slowly, she started pointing out the bricks on the ceiling and counting them. She lost her grip on reality, and Ardbert was helping with her return.

“I think I need to tell Aymeric at least.”

“If it gets us back to the Source, I’m all for it.”

She sat up once again, still barely tethered to her reality. This isn’t the first time she’s had an attack like this. Usually, they’re smaller, and happen when she tries to sleep, the result being nothing more than a simple jolt upward in her bed. When that meant her bed in Dawn’s Respite, she would get up and handle other business as she could to tire herself out. In Borel Manor, it was a much quicker process, in which Aymeric would quickly join her and calm her down, holding her until she fell asleep again.

He didn’t mind because she does the same for him.

As she slowly regained her composure, an incredible wash of embarrassment covered her.

“Did you imagine you’d be dating someone when you joined your soul with mine, Ardbert?”

“The thought crossed my mind. You talked about him endlessly. A man that looks like that? I could certainly think of worse prices to pay in exchange for saving my world.”

Dia chuckled.

“You could do far worse, anyways. I’m glad this Aymeric fellow’s pretty decent.”

“Yeah, me too.”

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

The hours had passed. The midday that let the two men enjoy their tea earlier gave way to twilight. Aymeric sat at the settee, doing anything to get his mind off of his missing Dia. Today was an off-day, yet there he sat with paperwork at the coffee table, trying to drown himself under amendments and statutes and arguments for the coming days. It did little to assuage worries, and may have even exacerbated them, but it was something to move his mind away from it.

“THE BLEEDING FIRST!”

The roar of the Azure Dragoon shook the foundation. Aymeric shot up and hurried towards the hall.

“My lord, you have a visitor”, announced the steward in a very tired voice.

“Thank you, Angelbert.” Estinien arrived at the doorway of the parlor.

“SHE WENT THROUGH THE BLEEDING RIFT AND NOW SHE’S IN THE GODSDAMNED FIRST!”

“Estinien, calm down! Where did you hear that?!”

“Tataru called me! Apparently, Hoary had a witness tell him she went east of the aetheryte, and the Sons of Saint Coinach confirmed it!”

Aymeric, stunned by the revelation, moved to sit down.

“You all right?” Estinien checked.

“So she just…left Hydaelyn entirely?”

“From the sounds of it.”

“And…no one else can get her?”

“She’s the only bloody person capable of traveling through the rift unscathed.”

He did nothing. He couldn’t do anything. If he looked at his work anymore, his brain would simply shatter. She went back to the First, of all places. Why the First? Why did she leave? What isn’t she telling him?

As if Halone had heard his thoughts, he heard a door close, and muffled behind the walls were the words, “Ah, there you are!” from the mouth of Angelbert. Footsteps drew closer to their location until finally, her appearance graced the doorway and Dia met her gaze with Aymeric’s.

“YOU!” Estinien shouted with the force of the Fury behind his voice. He marched towards the Warrior of Light and stared her down. “Do you know what kind of trouble you caused?! You made Tataru send out a Scion after you! You made me question all of godsdamn Ishgard before we found out you went off to the First! We couldn’t contact you! What in the seven hells were you thinking?!”

“ESTINIEN!”

Aymeric rarely yelled. Yelling was not his personal go-to outside of the battlefield. In his experience, yelling did nothing but fray emotions further. Sometimes, however, it was necessary.

Particularly now, as he didn’t want his friend screaming in his girlfriend’s face anymore.

Estinien turned around, still a little shocked to hear him yell like that.

“Please go. I wish to have a word alone with her.”

“But—“

“I will take care of this! Leave!”

With a blink, and a scowl towards Dia and her behavior, he eventually stomped off to return to the Rising Stones. Dia turned to Aymeric and asked meekly, “Are you going to yell at me too?”

“No. I will not yell at you.” He kept his voice calm despite a sea of anguish that brewed beneath him.

“Are you sure? You deserve it. I hurt you, didn’t I?”

“Even if I wanted to, where would we be if I hurt you back? All I want is an answer.”

Dia reached into her inventory, and pulled out something that glinted from the light of the fireplace. A small yellow crystal revealed itself in the palm of her hand. She stepped towards him and offered it for his inspection. Curiously, he took it and gave it a look.

“There. That’s what I’ve been hiding. Not even the Scions know what it does. I pray they don’t find out either.”

To him, it felt strange holding the chunk of crystal. There was definitely something strange about it, but he couldn’t pinpoint what. He met her gaze, and asked “Why?”

She sighed, and said, “Aymeric, you know me well enough to understand that trust isn’t easily given by me.” She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to stop herself from losing her tether to reality once more. “I trust you. I wholeheartedly, unambiguously trust you. I tell you this for two reasons: one, because I want to tell you something that I need you to swear you’ll never speak a word of to anyone, not even Estinien.”

He nodded. She took a deep breath.

“That crystal holds my memories as an ancient, as well as a power I once held in that life that helped me escape from Elidibus’ clutches when I fought him.” He shot his gaze back at the crystal, as if it could tell him that she was joking, or lying. It said nothing. He returned his wandering eye back to her.

“Much like Lahabrea, Elidibus, and Emet-Selch, I was a member of their Convocation of Fourteen when I was whole, before that world became fourteen shards. I held the title of Azem.”

Before he could say anything, she had moved on. “Azem opposed the summoning of Zodiark and gave up their seat. Or I did. I think of all the things about this, that’s the worst part. I’m not sure where Azem ends and Dia begins, or if I ever truly was Dia for that matter. At any rate, that means that I once filled their ranks, and the ascians, including the one that corrupted the Archbishop, once considered me a…friend.”

He wasn’t sure what to make of this. He wasn’t sure if he cared. Azem was of a time well before him. Her past life was not what he cared about, but the life that stood before him now. The one to whom he owed so much, to whom everyone in Eorzea owed so much. The one that loved him, the one that he loved.

“That’s…a lot…”

“There’s a second reason I told you that I trust you. And that’s because I just broke your trust, and I’m sorry. I’m very sorry I did. I stupidly thought if you knew, Aymeric, you’d leave, and so would the others. I panicked, and-“

“That’s why.” He interrupted, something rather unlike him, but he felt it was his job to stop spirals before they could begin. “You overheard Estinien, didn’t you? We heard the sound of teleportation in the hall.” She nodded.

“Look, what you once were in millenia past is of no importance to me. You joined ranks with ascians in a time long past, but you are most assuredly not an ascian.” He placed his hands on her shoulders calmly. “You are Dia Sito, no matter what anyone says. You are my partner, you are a scholar, a master culinarian, a weaver with skills second to none, and so much more to so many. You have defined Dia Sito to all of us. None would know of you as Azem, regardless of what you were told on the First. You, Dia Sito, are not an ascian, have not conspired with ascians, and have no plans to serve Zodiark…unless there’s another thing you have refrained from mentioning.”

She let out a laugh through her nose. “No, that’s about it on secrets.”

“Good. Now come, sit down.” He gently kissed her forehead and guided her to the settee with an arm around her shoulder. “I also need you to understand that your past life having engaged with paragons is not sufficient grounds for me to leave. I’m not going anywhere.”

She took a good look at him, and he at her, before the two leaned in for a quick kiss.

“I owe Estinien an apology as well, don’t I?”

“Perhaps, but I believe he owes you one as well. Go at your own pace, Dia.”

“I will. I can’t say I won’t be walking into a death trap the minute I walk into the Rising Stones.”

“You fear Estinien will have a second wind?”

“No, that Tataru will have a first wind.” He chuckled. “Estinien is nothing compared to the wrath of Tataru Taru”, she said, meaning every word behind it.

“I imagine the lot of them might have something to say of this.”

“Yeah, you’re right…” she stood up, “I should probably—“ He grabbed her wrist gently, and told her with a smile, “They can wait.”

“I need to tell at least one of them that I’ve come back.”

“You do have a linkpearl. I would recommend contacting the one least likely to enter into hysterics.”

Alphinaud, she thought.

“Very well.” She sat back down next to him, and placed a hand on her linkpearl.

“This is Alphinaud.”

“Hi, Alphinaud, it’s Dia.”

“Dia! Thank the Twelve! Hoary said you’d run off to the First. What happened? Are you quite all right?”

“Am I alive and kicking? Yes. Am I all right? I’ll need a minute to get back to you on that.”

Alphinaud sighed in relief. That was Dia all right.

“I’m surprised, Alphinaud. Was Estinien not in a tirade upon his return to the Rising Stones?”

“He slammed the door behind him on his way into Dawn’s Respite, but that’s nothing too unusual. We tried to ask him of your return, but he ignored us. Why do you ask?”

“Uh, let’s just say he and I didn’t exactly exchange pleasantries when he saw I came back.”

“Ah.”

“Anyways, I’ll return to explain myself tomorrow. I just wanted to let someone over there know I’m in the Source and in Borel Manor.”

“Mm, I understand why you came to me now. Very well, I shall disseminate word of your arrival to our comrades. Thank you for letting me know.”

“Of course. Thank you for not shouting at me.”

He giggled. “Any time.”

“Good night.”

Little did she know that the minute Alphinaud exclaimed her name, all the Scions except for Estinien gathered to listen to the call.

“I feel better, I think”, Dia told Aymeric.

“Very good”, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“Sorry for ruining your tea.”

“Think nothing of it. We’ll have more where that came from.”

She gave a rather sad smile. “Stop being so good about this. I don’t deserve it.”

“You deserve anything I could ever give. I only wish my love were enough.”

“It’s more than enough, it’s more than I’m even worthy of, my dear.”

For a moment, there was a flash. A black robe covering her arm, a black mask in her hand, and a different room appeared before her. As she turned her head, a familiar face that Dia never met before looked back to her with a wry smile on his face. In that same moment, it returned to the soft and gentle smile of Aymeric de Borel, with blue eyes shimmering as he looked into her soul itself, it seemed. She didn’t even realize until that moment that she clutched Azem’s crystal like her life depended on it. She released it quickly, not wanting it’s influence at that moment.

“I’m so tired”, she said, swallowing tears.

“I know.”

“I don’t want this.”

“I know you don’t.” He reached around her shoulder and pulled her into him.

“I’m so lost”, she said, the tears releasing.

“Then I’ll help you find your way.”

“Can you do that?”

“I’ll be damned if I don’t try.”

She had nothing more to say. Only sobs came from her. Azem weighed too heavy, and she only held eight parts. Dia lost her tether after that flashback. Aymeric had a rope for her to use instead to pull her back. She felt his heartbeat, his breathing, his warmth, the fabric of his shirt, of the settee, then tried to count the symbols that made up his wallpaper through tear-soaked eyes. Slowly, she regained control of her breath, the sobs reigned in, and the tears less poured out and more trickled. It helped that he was there to gently rub her back. It was soothing, to say the least.

“I’m sorry about this.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, my love.”

She took the crystal and placed it on the coffee table to avoid the risk of clutching it once again. Now that he knew, she had no need to hide it on her person.

“May I ask why you carry it then? If it burdens you so, it seems imprudent to keep it on.”

She shook her head. “For whatever feelings I have about the ascians, about the whole of Amaurot…that is a part of me. It feels wrong to keep it away.”

“Such is the burden of knowledge, is it not?”

“Now that it’s there, I can never truly remove it. I would rather try and learn from it as much as I can. I feel I owe it to them.”

“To the ascians?” he asked with an eyebrow raised.

“No, to Amaurot, and to history. I’d be a terrible scholar if I didn’t try.”

He let out a light laugh, and looked to her. “Even the best of scholars need a break from their tomes.”

“I know. So I’ll lay it there for now.” She let out a scoff of her own. “‘Tis strange, I feel as though I might as well have said, ‘I’ll lay my arm here.’”

“It’s that affixed to you?”

“To an extent. That is me after all.”

“In an incredibly detached sense, yes. Mayhap you should leave it alone for a while. Return to it another time.”

She let out a long breath through her nose while she stared at it. Aymeric took the crystal in his hand, feeling the strange sensation once more, and stood up. “If it’s quite all right with you, I’d like to place it in a drawer upstairs. When the time comes that you need it again, you’ll be able to access it with ease.”

As attached to it as she became, he was right. It did no good for her to obsess over it. She nodded, stood up and followed him upstairs.

Everything that made up Azem sat in a drawer in the master bedroom for quite some time. Dia still felt conflict in her soul, but it did much to separate her from further flashbacks and keep her grounded in the world as it is now. Amaurot, the Convocation, the Final Days, they laid idly by as Eorzea, the Scions, the Grand Company of Eorzea, and the looming threat of Fandaniel and his own machinations took priority. Of all times for her to place the crystal aside, it was when the knowledge was needed most. If she didn’t, however, the knowledge threatened to consume her. No, it was for the best. It needed to be away from her ever-growing curiosity.

That is, until the time came that she could no longer sit by in Eorzea. The crystal saw light once more and took it’s place with Dia when the world needed her.

#otherwise known as the girls got an identity crisis #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #ffxiv #aymeric x wol #aymeric de borel #estinien wyrmblood #tataru taru #stakey can’t stop writing about these two ahhhhh

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