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joannasteez · 3 years

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𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: EZ Reyes x Reader x Angel Reyes

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: Inspired by Jazmine Sullivan’s “Bodies - Intro”. These two characters have ruined my life.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Mature themes. Suggestive Polyamorous relationship.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k

This is the Tiny Desk concert version, the original is available on streaming platforms!! Listening to the song is of course optional.

The morning had brought a nebulous strumming sensation, waving under the surface of your skin like the soft rippling of water. The sheets beneath you fingers were crisp, lucid light of the morning sun dancing to reflect against the pure white. You were wholly enraptured in a bliss only the rising of the sun could bring, till confusion, all disconcerting and worrisome, snuffed out your moment of elysian. A mild thrumming began just at the back of your head, memories refusing to surface as mild panic took hold of your senses. Your fingers still clung to the sheets, this time with more urgency, heart pulsing faster. An alluring scent, masculine, settled the air. Had it always been there? Your throat was raw, as if you'd spent the former hours screaming into the night, and by the soreness rattling in your thighs you'd say the assumption had some truth.

"How you feeling?", a voice asked. At the foot of the bed sat a man, naked save for his underwear. His name was..... it started with an E you knew that.... Ezra maybe? ....No! Ezekiel, but "everyone calls me EZ" you remember faintly.

You pulled some at the sheets, the softness covering you as you took in the room. "Ok. Heads a little foggy, bit of a headache, but I'm good".

He maneuvered to your side of the bed, handing you a short glass and a pill. "That's good. Take this, it'll help".

"Thanks".

A silence brewed then, the water remedying that rawness as it washed down the Advil. Ezekiel had been watching you with intent, soft brown eyes fluttering over your features till they landed on your lips. It made you lick at them in self awareness.

"Last night must've been crazy, I barely remember anything".

His voice was deep, resonating from his chest, tone suggestive. "I could remind you".

Dangling idly from his neck swung a slim silver chain. Your fingers hooking it to draw him near till your lips touched. His kiss was patient, a lackadaisical pace as he rolled and flicked his tongue in your mouth. He let you do as you pleased, and so you settled for sucking at the wet of his tongue in a way that reflected the dazed air of the morning. It was seductive, producing a pressure at the base of your core, but it was also light, a featherweight thing that hazed the mind, coaxing you to fall back into the comfort of the sheets. You both were parallel to the pillows, his thickly veined hands situating your body as it pleased him, broad body laying beside you. Ezekiel had a rather patient disposition about him, but from the way he kissed you again, you could sense the desperation waring in him. Threatening to unleash itself.

He pushed at your legs, spreading them as his teeth gave your skin tentative nips, lips trailing soft wet kisses till he lapped against the hardening flesh of your chest that dared to pebble under his touch. Soft circles laid at the sensitive bundle of nerves between the juncture of your legs, a whiny moan airing out of your throat. You'd become so pliant under his touch, the warmth he radiated bending your will till it became his own. He was killing the remnants of your resolve with slow passion, summoning every nerve within you to thrum and pulse to his liking. With the hard swirl of his thumb, the balling pressure in your gut began to grow, his breath fanning over your skin as he continued to kiss up and to the side plain of your neck.

"Faster", you pleaded. Hips swiveling to meet his touch in desperation.

"I love how needy you sound baby, Keep begging".

And beg you did, the rotation of your hips tight with purpose. Your high was so close and so potent you could taste it, the ache so deep, you were trembling. You nearly cursed him out in a fit of rage when he pulled his hand away, a mischievous grin taking shape to his lips as he chuckled. The sound brought faded memories of the night prior back to your remembrance, stuck in a similar situation where Ezekiel had guided you to the edge of some explosively beautiful state of euphoria only then to leave you hanging. The lack of fulfillment was maddening but still you couldn't resist his steady touch, or his kiss, and the way he overstimulated your senses as his brother watched.

His fingers rubbed through the soreness of your thighs, lips seemingly stuck at the flesh of your neck. The scent of food stuck to the air suddenly, the aroma missing your senses up till now. "Where's your brother".

He smiled against your skin. "What, am I boring you?"

"Not at all. I just smell food is all".

"Hungry?"

He swirled his tongue against a sensitive spot on your neck.

You voice was airy. "Yes"

"Ever heard the saying patience is a virtue".

'Of course he'd think it was a virtue. He's a damn tease', you thought. "I think I'm all out of both".

You both let out snickers, the small comical moment disrupted by the sudden whipping boom of the door opening. Standing in the entrance was Angel, his hands occupied with glasses of orange juice. "I'm out there slaving over the stove and you're in here seducing our guest".

EZ rose from the bed, stalking toward the door. "Angel if you burnt the eggs just say that".

"Blow me", Angel griped.

The younger brother had left, being exchanged for the older one, who'd regarded you with an intensity that wasn't present before. His energy seemed to shift the room, lean built body blocking the rays of the sun to cast a long shadow down on you. You sat there, knees pressing into the sheets as you sat back against the heels of your feet. A piece of your lip tucked under your teeth in anticipation because Angel was different from his brother. Ezekiel was patient, and tended to you with a burning desperation to be near you, as if to savor each moment . You felt it when he kissed you, the way he gripped at your skin, like the feeling had become so foreign at one point or another and now that he had you he didn't want to let go, but Angel made you patient and pliant in a different manner. While Ezekiel waited for you, you waited for Angel.

"Thirsty?", he asked. Extending a glass of juice to you. You shuffled closer, nearly at the edge of the bed as the coolness of the glass danced under your fingers to produce slight shivers when you drank.

His stare bared down on you as you took long pulling sips. Your eyes peering back beneath the fanning of your lashes. The last sip caused a single droplet to store at the corner of your lip, his finger catching absentmindedly before tasting it. He hummed at the sweet citrus flavor, placing the empty glass down before turning back to you, fingers raising to caress against your face. You leant into the touch without much thought, the warmth of it nice and easing. A thumb pulled softly at your bottom lip, his voice murmuring something about you being beautiful.

He descended to lay a rough kiss, the pace powered to his liking, the swipe and roll of his tongue domineering and heavy. He made you breathless, lips reminding you of hours before and how he loved to control every part of you. The push and pull of his fingers against your skin, the robust groan that stayed stored away in his chest drawing out long and deep whenever you reacted to his dominance. He was a passionate lover as well but had commanded a level of submission that made your head swim with delirious need. Ezekiel had left you desperate, and now Angel was here, those long rough fingers in tow, ready to push you over the edge.

He tugged at your lips, hands gripping your thighs to spread them as you stayed kneeling before him, your hands pressed into his abdomen for support. He laid deep rotating motions at your clit, the shudder of pleasure resonating on your nerves causing you to gasp. With the tight rhythm there, he delved in two fingers, the thickness of it causing you to whimper soft curses, your head lulling back at the teeming sensations. You felt your body edging, a rocking in your hips urging you to burst under him.

"Feels so good Angel", you moaned. The grip on his waist that you have growing tight. As his right hand worked you he raised the left to hold the pressured points at your neck. A squeeze that made your vision white and splotchy. You were mumbling incoherent phrases, drunk off pleasure and it spurred Angel on.

"My brother left you high and dry didn't he?", he asked. His lips tugging against the shell of your ear. "Forgive him, he's a tease, he can't help himself".

"Please Angel, I'm so close", you pleaded.

"I know baby, and you're doing so good. Such a good girl".

The praise sent you into a short bout of small convulsions, the heated pressure in your gut bursting, causing your head to rest lazily on his chest. Blissed out state consuming you. He discarded your slick release with his tongue, tasting before he placed you gently to lay against the sheets. His long fingers finding the dips and curves of your body to caress.

Ezekiel stepped in the room then, a tray of assorted breakfast foods in hand. At this you sat up, body reacting before the mind. Ezekiel placed the tray at the center of the bed, the contents thereof a beautiful assortment of fruits, cooked meats, a stacked pile of toast and a big steaming plate of scrambled eggs. You all picked at it in comfortable silence. The chirping song of birds ringing in the distance. It was nice. Perfect even.

A thought came to mind. "Is this something you guys do often?"

Angel grabbed the bowl of fruits, lifting one to your lips to taste. The juice of the fruit streamed, Angel catching it with a kiss to your chin before answering. "It's our first time sharing to be honest. We both saw you and figured it was better this way than fighting about it".

Ezekiel reached over you to grab a fruit. "Sharing is caring".

You smiled, leaning over to peck his lips. "And there's enough of me for the both of you".

Angel raised another fruit to your lips, watching as you suckled the juice of it. The soft flesh of your mouth catching his fingers. You too had entranced each other, eyes falling one into the other till you shifted on your side to kiss him. He'd paced it slow, tongue heavy as it licked and swirled to gather the taste of your lips. Soft kisses pressed into the curve of your side, Ezekiel's thick hands kneading your skin with a tugging sensation. The feeling of them both, surrounding you at every turn made your head spin in excitement. They kissed you, touched you, regarded your with such an overwhelming dynamic that, if you were anyone else you'd probably go insane.

A burning smell ruffled your nose. "What's that smell?"

Angel kept at your lips, his care else where, but Ezekiel had come to a full halt behind you, till he shot out of the bed.

"Shit I left one of the stove burners on".

You giggled and Angel shook his head, traveling down to nip at your chest. Your fingers ran through his dark locks, still giggling as you heard Ezekiel cursing in the kitchen.

"You both are so cute, can I keep y'all?"

"You couldn't get rid of us if you tried querida".

That whole morning, you'd been stuck, resting between them both, one perfection and another. Moaning and withering between the soft lips and brushing kisses of two elysian bodies.

#ez reyes #mayans mc #ezekiel reyes #angel reyes #ezekiel reyes imagine #angel reyes imagine #ez reyes x reader x angel reyes #ez reyes x reader #angel reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes x reader #joannasteez

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incorrectmarvelquotesss · 3 years

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The Night’s End

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky goes for a walk after a nightmare and stops at a bookshop open at 2 am. ❤️‍🔥📚

Warnings: death, violence, choking, gunshots, blood and bruises, angst, strong language, mentions of physical and mental abuse, PTSD talks, a little fluff

A/N: My first fic! I hope you guys enjoy! I won’t be doing many fics, but for reaching 200 followers I thought why not? This is not edited yet. I’ve got a few requests which I am writing. Once they are done, they’ll be posted. If you want to be tagged in these fics, send an ask. Enjoy!

He watched the body fall to the ground with a soft thud, muffled by the carpet underneath the young man. He stood still even though every part of heart was whispering to him in a loud voice to run to the young man and help him. His brain kept him still, not moving even an inch until the young man took his last breath, draining the life out of him.

He stood still for another second, an instinct that was drilled into him to check if the target was really dead or not. After making sure the young man was dead from the gunshot wound, he walked backwards, slipping the pistol into its holster on his tactical suit. He turned around abruptly, stopping short as he saw a young woman, eyes flickering over the scene. Her eyes darted to him, fearful and shocked.

“Please,” she whispered into the air, voice raspy and shaking. “I won’t tell anyone.”

He cocked his head to the side a little, walking nearer to her. He could smell her strong perfume, scented with citrus fruits of sorts. He walked closer, stopping only a foot away from, watching as a predator would to his prey.

She squirmed and shrank under his gaze, holding onto the doorknob with one hand behind her when it jabbed her back. She clutched her purse in the other hand, knuckles turning white. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of her temple. She wiped it hastily with the back of her hand clutching the purse.

“No,” he answered simply before his metal hand darted out to choke the woman. His hand gripped her throat tightly, arm whirring with mechanical parts. It clicked and buzzed as he pushed her head back to the door. This was all second nature to him.

Killing and murder. He was a monster that no one could tame. He knew that and so did Hydra.

Bucky shot up with a gasp, clutching the blanket on the ground. His heart was pounding in his ears with beads of sweat gliding down his forehead. A thin layer of sweat covered his body, glistening in the dim light of the television still playing. He looked up at it, blue eyes still trying to focus on the light, and noticed the soccer match playing. Although he had no interest in it, he watched each movement of the players carefully. He studied each movement before the whistle was blown and it was halftime.

He blew out a breath, a little happy that he could distract himself for a while from his nightmares. More like memories, said a bitter voice at the back of his head. He cringed and felt the gut wrenching feeling making its way to his heart. It happened every night and each night he would feel guilt seep into his bones for his soulmate. His soulmate could probably feel his panic and guilt at the moment, but he was surprised to feel a bit of curiosity that didn’t belong to him.

He felt a tug on his blanket, also tugging him out of his thoughts, and faced the white feline he had adopted a few weeks back. Alpine. Alpine’s big eyes looked up at him, head-butting his flesh hand close to her. He almost smiled as his hand started to scratch Alpine behind her ear and she purred softly. A few seconds later, she left abruptly and jumped onto the couch to go back to sleep.

Bucky let out a huff of breath which he would count as a laugh. He looked to his side where his phone was—not the flip phone he showed to his therapist. This was a sleek, new model of the latest phone in which he used multiple things in, like Tinder. He was trying to get into dating again, mostly hoping that he could find his soulmate.

He was, the least to say, surprised when he found out that he even had a soulmate in this time. He had thought that Dot, the girl he practically swooned over in the 40s, was his only soulmate. He had been so sure. Their tattoos were stars with a simple dot at the top of one of the points. But when he had been in Hydra’s capture, it had changed. Now it was a heart with a simple swirl in it.

He tapped the screen of his phone twice and squinted his eyes at the sudden brightness. The lock screen was a simple picture of Alpine. Well, she was cuddling with Bucky on the couch, but Bucky had cropped himself out of the picture. He looked at the numbers staring back at him.

1:26.

He blinked once and then shut the phone off. He looked out the window and huffed before getting up, shoving the blanket off of his legs. He grabbed a pair of grey sweatpants off of the couch that he had taken off when he brought his blanket out to the living room, sweating from his last nightmare. Memory. He hopped on one foot as he slipped one leg in and then repeated it for the next leg. He grabbed a burgundy hoodie, pulling it over his head as he turned around and picked up his phone—just in case.

Taking one last look at his apartment, he pulled on some socks and shoes and took the keys from the bowl. He opened the door and slid out, keeping his eyes focused on everything around him. Old habits die hard, he thought as he shoved his keys and phone into his pocket, feeling his wallet as he did so. He must have forgotten to take it out yesterday.

He dashed out of the building, waving a little to the secretary at the front desk as politely as he could. She gave him a flirtatious smile, which he ignored because she was married. He didn’t flirt with married women, even if he didn’t flirt anymore these days.

He stepped out of the building, feeling the cool night breeze flow through his hoodie, glad that he didn’t wear a shirt—the cool air felt great against his hot body. The effects of the nightmare were still there; sweat, eyes flickering around, ears on high alert. The moon was shining brightly in the clear sky with splatters of stars like white paint. The stars seemed to twinkle, shimmering like glitter.

Bucky smiled slightly, remembering when Morgan had covered his arm in glitter. He looked down and started to walk down the sidewalk, thinking of his life in the 40s. He had always loved to stargaze and explore more about space. Back in the 40s, everything was on books, but now Bucky could search up everything he wanted, whenever and wherever.

“Hey, you going somewhere?” He looked up to see a man standing on the curb, leaning against a car, talking to a woman. The woman had tensed up and clutched her purse. Bucky slowed down, trying to catch what was gonna happen.

“Just down the block,” she said, voice shaking a little. The man crossed his arms and gestured to his car with his head.

“I’ll drop you off,” his voice was ruff, but there was a slight gentleness and sadness to it. “It ain’t safe out here for a girl like you. My sister wasn’t safe either.”

The woman’s head whipped around to look at the man. Her eyes were searching for a hint of lie, Bucky thought, watching the scene unfold. “I’m sorry,” she said when she thought that the man was sincere.

“It’s alright,” the man said, pushing himself off the car. “Beat the guy when she told me, but the police here didn’t do anything more than a restraining order. I can walk you if you want, unless you're trained in karate or something.” This emitted a laugh out of the woman.

Bucky was almost beside them, keeping his head low. He moved a bit over so that he would walk behind the woman.

“Find your soulmate yet?” He asked, making the woman touch her wrist.

Bucky knew why he had asked that. A soulmate could feel your feelings and pain—not as bad, like a needle—something that Bucky always hated. He felt the guilt whenever he had gotten hurt over a mission or even when he had nightmares, he always thought about his soulmate. On the other hand, he had felt happiness spread throughout his body from his soulmate. There had been a couple of times where he felt a pang of sadness, but it was usually replaced with calm and quietness.

“No,” she replied with a soft voice.

“Me neither,” the man gave a toothy grin as Bucky passed the two. The woman giggled as the man said, “Mine is a circle with an arrow in it. Yours?”

The woman gasped and, Bucky assumed that she pulled up her sleeve, then heard the man chuckle.

Bucky zoned them out, trying to ignore the pang of pain in his chest. He took out his phone, desperately trying to forget about soulmates. He quickly read through all the updates Sam had sent.

Sarah and the kids are doing great. Hope you are, too. <Sent 2d ago

The kids really want you back and guess what? I found her! She’s perfect. Her name’s Aaliyah and I want you to meet her bro. <Sent 1d ago

Bucky sighed, not finding what he was hoping for. But he sent back a text anyway, feeling like he owed Sam a little ‘I’m fine and alive’ text.

That’s amazing! I’ll see you all next Sunday like we planned. You should bring Aaliyah and introduce us. <Delivered 2m ago

He shut off his phone and looked around. He was near the lane of shops and most of them were closed. There was an all-nighter pub and pharmacy, but one particular shop caught his eye. It was a bookshop he had wanted to visit a few times now, but never got the chance. It was still open by the looks of it and Bucky wasn’t doing anything else.

He started towards it, hoping that the lights on meant it was still open. He did wonder why it was open at this odd time, but as he approached the shop it was more clear why. A woman was walking around the shelves, helping sleepy teenagers and adults stay awake and giving them coffee to fuel them.

Her H/C was flowing freely while her E/C were flickering around the shop. Her hands held a stack of books and a tray of coffee. The books were all different topics and authors, Bucky could tell. Her face was soft as she placed a book on a teenager’s table and smiled slightly. The teenager looked up at her and smiled. She said something to him and then smiled before walking around the shelves again. She looked up as if she felt his eyes on her, but she quickly turned when a man came up behind her.

Bucky felt a pang of jealousy in his stomach. It was a feeling that he couldn’t ignore and it only got stronger as the man placed a hand on her arm, rubbing it up and down. She nodded as the man spoke, a smile creeping up on her face. She threw her back laughing, covering her mouth as she shook her head. She looked at the customers, apologizing sheepishly at her outburst. She put the books and empty tray on the counter and put her hands on the man’s shoulder, talking seriously. He nodded once, jaw clenching. She patted his shoulders, a smile back on her face as the man started for the door.

Bucky realized that he had been staring and started to walk towards the door. The man had gotten there first, flinging the door open just as Bucky reached for it. The man smiled tiredly and turned to the side, allowing Bucky to slip by. He nodded as a silent thanks.

“No problem, bud,” he said, nodding slightly, and stepped out the door.

Bucky looked behind him before taking in the bookshop. The big shelves filled the three walls, including behind the counter the woman stood behind, flipping through a book. There were four seats at the three tables that were set in the middle. There were more shelves vertically placed close to two of the walls.

Bucky started to walk but felt a small burn on his wrist. He felt it itch as if he gotten a terrible rash, but it stopped in a heartbeat. He stopped abruptly, knowing exactly what it meant. He pulled his sleeve up, looking down at his flesh wrist where the once black, now gold, soulmate tattoo.

His soulmate was close by.

He looked up and saw the woman staring back at him with wide eyes.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly. Her eyes were scanning his face for any emotion, but Bucky knew she couldn’t. His mask was up, the guard that he would put up when he didn’t want anyone to know how he was feeling. It worked for Steve, Sam, even Natasha. But the woman only shook her head. “Won’t work. I can feel your emotions.”

He nodded once. “I know.” He was feeling joy, but there was more. More emotions flooding him in waves. Anxiousness. Shocked. Guilt.

“Stop thinking for a second,” she whispered, smiling sweetly at him, “and breathe.” He inhaled deeply and held it in for a few seconds before letting it go. He had unconsciously moved closer to the counter and her.

“I’m Bucky,” he blurted out, putting his hand on the counter. She giggled at his flustered face and if Bucky said that wasn’t the most sweetest thing Bucky ever heard, he’d be lying.

“I’m Y/N,” she replied, holding out a hand for him to shake. He glanced at it before putting his hands in hers. “Just a sec.” She had looked over his shoulder and nodded her head. He glanced over his shoulder to see another teenager looking at Y/N with a small desperation in her eyes. Y/N grabbed a book from behind her and then turned around, holding the book up. The teenager ran over and grabbed the book from her hand, hugging her as well. Y/N giggled again and Bucky felt his heart skip a beat.

“What is this?” He asked once the teenager sat down on her seat again. Y/N bit her lip and leaned over the counter, her elbows holding her up.

“A support group of a sort, I guess,” she answered, shrugging slightly. “School’s not exactly relaxing.”

“And staying up late?”

“They’ve got a long weekend.” She giggled again and Bucky could swear his heart actually stopped beating for a second. Bucky gulped and nodded. His mind flashed images of just before; the man, Y/N, her laughter.

“Who was that?” Bucky blurted out before he could bite his tongue. Y/N straightened up, a teasing smile on her face.

“Are you feeling threatened by a teenager?”

He could hear the light teasing behind her words and felt a fondness towards her. It had been a while since someone had joked around with him. He smiled for the first time in a while and shook his head. “I meant the man that left before I came in.”

“Oh!” She laughed, shaking her head and saying, “No, no,” repeatedly. She stopped laughing, giggles still escaping her mouth. “That’s my cousin. He’s closer than a brother, though, TJ.”

Bucky felt his ears and cheeks heat up, turning red, no doubt, with embarrassment. “Okay.” Bucky felt a prickle of guilt behind all the embarrassment, but it didn’t belong to him.

“I’m not lying,” Y/N said, noticing that Bucky could feel her emotion. “I’m just used to joking around and I don’t really know if you’re okay with it or not. It’s just that you got uncomfortable all of a sudden and I thought that… I’m sorry.” She winced at her ramble, but looked at Bucky with soft eyes when he started to chuckle. She bit her lips, holding back her smile at his laughter. It was a sweet sound and she felt as if she could listen to it for eternity.

“It’s fine,” he sighed, eyes twinkling. “It’s been a while since someone joked around the Winter Soldier.” He cringed as he let it slip, shutting his eyes for a second. He opened them, expecting Y/N to be scared or fear him, but he found none of that. Instead he saw and felt her curiosity spark.

“I’ve heard about that,” she said slowly, choosing her words carefully. “You were captured by Hydra and taken control over, but now they have no control over you.” Y/N had left out several parts of his past, but he had a feeling that she knew everything anyway.

Bucky nodded curtly. “Yeah. That’s one way to put it.” She smiled softly at him, hand reaching out for his left one.

She didn’t care, Bucky thought with a small surprise. He didn’t feel any fear or anxiousness from her. It was all admiration and curiosity and warmth.

The dark night that plagued him had finally ended.

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holykillercake · 3 years

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Red String

𝕊ℍ𝔸ℕ𝕂𝕊 𝕏 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖!ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

word count: 2.8k

summary: You had any place in the world to moor, a stable and safe summer paradise somewhere in the South Blue, or you could visit the winter island where cherry blossoms painted the freezing horizon pink. The world was on the menu, and yet you chose to break into a Yonko territory.

highlight: ¨What about you, Y/N? Will you try to put your hands on me?¨

warning: Look out for your arm, it might melt with the fluff.

notes: Hi, guys! This was an anon request for Shanks x Marine Reader. I was given the freedom to write whatever I wanted, so I hope you guys like it! <3 Dear, anon, I apologize for the time it took and I hope you read it!

𝕃𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤, 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖!

¨I have to say, not a usual place for a Vice Admiral to enjoy a vacation.¨ a smirk bent your lips as you heard the playful voice of the man who courted you with another drink.

¨Well, I´m no usual Vice Admiral.¨

¨No one doubts that.¨ He put the sword on the table and pulled a chair, sitting close to you. ¨You have grown, Y/N.¨

¨You have aged.¨

¨Oi, not very nice. You hurt my feelings.¨ the red-haired placed the hand on his chest, over the heart, faking an offended tone.

¨Mission accomplished.¨

You stared at each other for about four seconds before breaking into laughter. As always, Shanks was louder, banging his fist on the wooden table and vocalizing his amusement to anyone who had ears to hear.

¨It´s been a long time, Y/N.¨ he wheezed, still recovering from his overreaction.

¨Yes, it has, Red hair.¨

¨Red hair? Really? I mean, you tried to kill me way too many times already. You gotta call me by my name.¨ You chuckled, sipping your drink. ¨Especially when you´re at my house.¨

You grinned, shaking your head and biting your lip. Of course, the bastard would not let this opportunity slip.

After years of non-stop hard work, you received a few weeks off duty. That meant that the world could split open, the moons could fall into the atmosphere followed by the sun, and you would not have to move a single finger.

Issho-san would handle that better in any way.

You had any place in the world to moor, a stable and safe summer paradise somewhere in the South Blue, or you could visit the winter island where cherry blossoms painted the freezing horizon pink. The world was on the menu, and yet you chose to break into a Yonko territory.

However, the Yonko in question was more than just an Emperor of the Sea. Your lives entangled at a very young age when the Pirate King was still alive, and Garp had melanin left in his hair.

You were just two snotty brats fighting your Captains´ battles.

¨Anyway,¨ he chugged his drink and asked for another one. ¨I missed you in Marineford.¨

¨Well, I guess I missed Marineford myself. Had a good view, though.¨ you answered nonchalantly.

¨What do you mean?¨

¨I had an underling transmit me the whole thing.¨

¨Isn´t that handy?¨

You tried not to laugh. It was stupid, but every time you had Shanks and hand in the same sentence, you felt the urge to laugh.

¨I wanted to see Luffy.¨ you said.

¨Why not go there, then?¨

¨Duty called somewhere else.¨ you shrugged. ¨Besides, I would have been no help for him.¨

¨You´re saying you wouldn´t help him?¨ Shanks carried a suspicious tone in his voice.

¨Of course I wouldn't help him.¨ You took a sip of your drink. ¨But thanks... for stopping that madness.¨

The man casually stretched his arms above his head, tilting his head back, enjoying the warm sun.

¨No biggie. You owe me another one, and we should be fine.¨ he smiled.

¨Who´s counting?¨

¨I am.¨

¨I already stopped hunting you, Shanks. Isn´t that enough?¨

¨Not on my book, Y/N.¨

For a long portion of your life, you had a personal mission to give the Red Hair the same fate as his Captain. Whenever his crew was located, you would be the one hunting them. No one dared to tell you otherwise.

By that time, you had no significant position. Maybe a Lieutenant, Captain tops. But being related to the Hero of the Marines, well, that granted you some free passes, and as long as you could hand Shanks´head in a tray, a little nepotism didn´t bother you.

Actually, although everyone saw you as Garp´s relative, you were just his first protegé, his first rescued dog. Apparently, the highly ranked officers were going through boring times and decided to pay their dues by doing charity.

The only one you got to know was Sengoku´s kid. Rosinante was his name. To this very day, you could not think of him without the twist in your heart.

Even you didn´t know how to describe it, and honestly, you didn´t care. Was the job done at the end of the day? Good.

That was all that mattered until another pawn entered the game, a very troublesome one, by the way. Slept like a rock and ate all your food. You couldn´t help but fall in love with little Monkey D. Luffy.

He was the one to give you the answer you had stopped looking for a while ago.

In order to be his older sister, you had to be Garp´s granddaughter. Everyone loved the idea, except for the man himself.

You were as keen as Garp to make Luffy become a great Marine. You bought him tailor-made marine onesies and shared stories about the seas. Whenever he spotted you approaching with the leather book in your hands, he would get restless.

The onesies, however, those never lasted. They were thrown in a boiling dumpster altogether with your dream of him joining you in a job one day.

The sun was about to set, and you had just returned from a long and intricate mission when you received a call from Makino saying that Luffy had gotten into some trouble.

Not only that, The Red Hair Pirates were somehow involved. It was all you heard before hanging off the den den mushi and hopping in a Marine ship, headed to Foosha Village.

The idea of Shanks causing Luffy any pain or just giving him a hard time made you turn into a beast. But your bloodshot eyes were washed clean by the image of your brother, safe and sound, hanging out with Red Hair, who seemed rather... different.

¨Why would you do that?! What do you want, Red Hair?!¨

A lot of things went through your head, but none of them could explain why a pirate, why him, would sacrifice his arm to save Luffy. There was no way he didn´t know about your little brother´s connections.

¨I want to pay you a drink. But only if you stop yelling.¨

With a swing of his hand and a smile, Makino appeared with a jug of beer before you could spit fire on him again.

¨They´ve been really good at keeping Luffy entertained this past year, Y/N-san.¨ she said, kind as usual, before leaving.

You sighed and took a seat by his side.

¨Why did you do that?¨

¨I bet on his life. Just that. Why is that a problem? You don´t want to feel grateful for a pirate?¨

Your grip tightened around the cold glass, teeth clenching and knuckles turning white.

¨No.¨

Gratitude was never the problem. You would be grateful to anyone who risked their lives for Luffy, but he... you needed to hate him. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn´t get yourself to do it.

¨I don´t want you thinking that I owe you anything.¨

¨You don´t have to owe me anything, Y/N. But we´ve known each other for a while now, so... we both know that you will.¨

His lips turned into an honest smile, no teasing behind it, and you wished not to have your heart beating faster for it.

¨You don´t kn-¨

¨Y/N!¨ Luffy entered the bar, running to you with the brightest of the smiles on his face.¨Are you done? I have to show you something!¨ he asked, pulling the fabric of your coat.

¨Oi, behave Luffy, I´ll be done in-¨

¨Nooo!¨ he pouted before turning to the opposite side and pulling one of his impish grins ¨Look what I can do! Gomu gomu no...¨

His tiny hand balled into a fist, which you watched stretch all the way to the opposite side of the room before coming back and hitting him in the face.

Did his arm just...

The air froze in the room. You blinked a couple of times, hearing a few gasps around the bar, your gaze fixed in the same place his hand was seconds ago.

¨Luffy-kun, why don´t you come outside with me?¨ Makino extended her hand for him to take. ¨I´ll bring some meat.¨

The kid screamed in excitement and followed her, drool dripping down his chin.

So close, Shanks. So close. He thought, lowering his head on the counter and waiting to get chewed up. However, after a few unscathed seconds, the red-haired lifted his head, almost not believe his eyes.

That was the first and last time you bowed to a pirate.

Of course, later on, you punched him for letting Luffy eat a Devil Fruit.

You swore to leave him and his crew alone, as long as they did not cause bigger problems, which they eventually did, but you had a debt you could never pay, and you ended up focusing on other things.

Those things made it difficult for you to visit Luffy as much as you wanted, but since Garp had sent him to live with Dadan, you could sleep with a clean consciousness.

Whenever you paid him visits, he would tell you about these other kids, whom he considered brothers. One you got to meet, Sabo, smart and polite. The other, however, ran from you like you were a freaking plague.

Ace, another one with whom you had an inestimable debt.

¨Humor me, Y/N. If not Foosha, why here?¨

You shrugged.

¨I was passing by, and the place seemed quite enjoyable.¨

¨Hm.¨ the wind blew stronger, turning the gentle swishing of the palm trees into a harsher rustling. ¨Should I get my men ready for a conflict?¨

¨Relax, Shanks. Right now, this is the safest place on earth.¨

¨What do you mean?¨ he asked, genuinely curious.

¨Oh, come on.¨ you scoffed. ¨Not even the World Government will try to put their hands on you, and I´ll kill anyone who dares to ruin my vacation.¨

¨What about you, Y/N? Will you try to put your hands on me?¨

His gaze was heavy on you, conquering aura filling the place. You looked at him with narrowed eyes and a smirk growing on your lips.

This guy...

You harnessed the moment to take in his features, a lot more mature than you remembered. Although the scars were deeper and he seemed more tired, his hair shone like fresh blood, and his eyes... you were afraid to drown in them.

¨What would you do if I decided to put my hands on you?¨ you bit your lip. ¨I heard you´ve been terrorizing some kids lately.¨

¨Gotta give them a run for their bounties, right?¨ He laughed. ¨But I also heard some interesting things about you, Y/N.¨

You raised your eyebrows as if you were encouraging him to tell you more.

¨Apparently, I´m not the only one spending recreational time with young pirates. And there I thought Marines weren´t supposed to hunt Warlords of the Sea.¨

A shiver ran down your body, already aware of the subject he was about to bring up.

¨Well, I have no idea what you´re talking about.¨ You said, giving him your best oblivious eyelash bat.

¨Oh yeah? Because it was brought to my attention that you made some business with... what´s his name again?¨ he pretended exaggeratedly to think about it ¨Ah, Trafalgar Law.¨

¨Only time I spoke to him, he was a Warlord as well. And I just wanted to thank him for helping Luffy in Marineford.¨

¨You´re gonna start lying to me at this point of our relationship?¨ Shanks teased to eager a bit of the tension, and a scoff left your mouth.

¨First, you´re delusional. Second, you´re too nosey for your own good.¨

The two of you laughed along like you were not natural enemies.

¨Did you get to meet Luffy in Dressrosa? Heard they made an alliance.¨

¨Hm, yeah. But no, couldn´t get myself to do it.¨

You frowned, hurting for have had your little brother so close but not being brave enough to approach him. Good thing he had no idea about your presence in the scene, and you could trust Law´s discretion to keep it that way.

¨He doesn´t hate you, you know.¨

¨Yeah, I know...¨

That was true. Luffy didn´t hate you for not helping him in Marienford, just like he didn´t hate Garp for standing in his way. He had too big of a heart for that.

Shanks let you have your time in silence, empathizing with your feelings. He too had to make sacrifices by standing his ground before.

¨What now?¨ he asked.

¨What now?¨

¨Garp is retired. Joker is down. What´s holding you back?¨

The air got stuck in your lungs. The reality you had been running from, the question for which you postponed to find an answer.

When Garp took you in, the alternatives available for you were restricted, to say the very least. It was either accept the kindness of a stranger or die. He taught you his trade and molded you into one of the best-skilled marines.

As the time passed and you learned the ugly truth behind the World Government, the disgust and disbelief made you want to leave. Fortunately, your life was not stained by the passage of a Celestial Dragon, but how were you supposed to protect them, aware of the atrocities they afflicted to people?

At the same time, how could you leave Garp after everything he did for you? Of course, he would survive if you disappointed him that much, but you owed him your life.

What made you stay, however, was something much less pleasant than a lifetime debt. Thirteen years ago, evil prevailed, and you lost something really important. Or rather, someone.

Commander Donquixote Rosinante. Marine code 01746.

He had a sense of justice like no one else. He was strong, honest, and fair. Did he make you want to pull your hair out every time he lit himself on fire? Yes. Did it bother you to have stains on your tatami because he dropped hot tea on it? Yes. He possessed the ability to get you on your nerves, but he was your family.

You were supposed to be the greatest.

Long story short, that night, at Swallow Island, you left with more than just his dead body. You inherited his will.

You swore to take down the man responsible for shortening his life, and hopefully, in a later day, you could meet the little boy about whom he spoke so highly.

It took you thirteen years. No more ties of the past, no more strings on you.

Well, just one, if you were to be entirely honest with yourself. A string of a stupid tale, a nonsense legend, a foolish myth. The Thread of Destiny, supposed to connect two people together. They say the thread may stretch or tangle, but it shall never break.

Bullshit. There´s no such a thing.

But assuming that there was, why did you feel that if you pulled it to its very end, what you would find would be red as well?

Red as the vest Luffy wore diligently; red as the nose of a cranky apprentice; red as the pompous sails of the Oro Jackson; red as the locks of the man capable of stopping wars with words.

Would you dare to be anything else? Could you step out of your own life like this? Could you abandon everything you fought for all these years?

¨You know, I´ve said it in the past, but I´ll say it again. We could use someone like you in our crew.¨

You gave him a two-second smirky scoff before frowning again.

Were you worthy enough to owe yourself the chance to choose? What did it mean, the justice coat of a Vice Admiral you carried so proud on your shoulders?

If piracy took a lot from you in the past, could piracy, or a pirate, give you everything back?

¨Y/N?¨

¨Hm?¨ You hummed, gaze locked on the lethargic view.

Hot puffs of air played with your hair and involved your skin in a warm hug. You could hear the gentle sound of the waves crashing on the shore, coastal birds cooing and the wind whistling over the rocks.

¨Do you think, maybe, one day... I could ask you out?¨

No matter how many times you rewound the tape, you couldn´t find a different answer, a plausible reason for the burning feeling you held for him, whatever that meant.

From the first time you put your eyes on each other, a contract was opened without even a handshake. A deal was set without your acknowledgment. An ironic fate tied you to the same string.

¨Yeah... maybe.¨

#one piece #opfanfic #shanks #red hair shanks #yonko #emperors of the sea #Marines #vice admiral #monkey d luffy #op

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outerspacesteve · 3 years

Text

headcanon #11: peter and bucky stress bake together

Bucky picked up baking as a coping mechanism and often when he has nightmares, he’ll wake up and go downstairs to the compound’s kitchen and just bake until his heart has stopped racing and his head is quiet.

Peter’s a night owl who’s just always up at odd hours, whether that’s completing the homework he left until last minute, watching a film, playing video games, or completing his mission to explore every single room in the compound.

On one of his late night walks around the compound, Peter smells cupcakes baking, which is weird because it’s 3AM and which of the Avengers bake during the day, let alone in the middle of the night? He goes to check it out, and lo and behold it’s Bucky Barnes barefoot, in sweatpants and a grey long sleeve t-shirt, just silently baking. There’s a tray of cupcakes in the oven, another cooling on the counter, and he’s currently spooning more batter into empty cupcake cases.

Peter justs stands in the doorway, watching. He doesn’t want to disturb him because he looks so at peace, but it’s fascinating watching the notorious Winter Soldier going through the motions of baking with such practised ease.

Bucky has his back to him, but he know’s Peter’s there, because of course he does - he has super soldier serum, and he can see him in the reflection of the over door. He doesn’t say anything or acknowledge him, though. If the kid’s not going to say anything, then neither will he. And, to be honest, he hasn’t quite acclimated to talking to any of the other Avengers yet, except for Steve and occasionally Sam and Nat, if he’s feeling up to it.

This happens a few times - Bucky will be baking in the middle of the night, and Peter will just watch from the doorway. Every night where Peter finds himself awake at ungodly hours, he checks to see if Bucky’s baking in the kitchen again. Sometimes he is, sometimes he isn’t. If he is, Peter will watch, otherwise he’ll just go back to whatever he was originally.

After a few weeks of Peter watching him, Bucky starts to leave a little plate of whatever he has baked in the fridge, wrapped in clingfilm and labelled ‘Peter,’ because he wants the kid to have some, but the rest of the team normally eat all of what he’s made before Peter even gets up. It absolutely thrills Peter that Bucky is thinking of him and that he gets to try the baked goods.

(Peter’s favourite thing that Bucky has made has got to be the apple and cinnamon cupcakes - not because he liked the flavour, because who the hell puts fruit in a cupcake? No, Bucky had decorated the cupcake with two little lightsabers, knowing that Peter absolutely loved Star Wars.

Unbeknownst to Peter, Bucky had seen him find the cupcake and had seen him smile unabashedly to himself. So, after that, whenever Bucky made cupcakes or sugar cookies or anything he could decorate with icing, he always made sure to decorate one specially for Peter.)

After the Star Wars cupcake, Peter stopped standing in the doorway. Yes, okay, he sat on the barstool that was all of a metre from the door, but that’s not the point - at least he wasn’t stuck standing for however long Bucky baked for, anymore.

Sometimes, when Bucky would hear the sound of the barstool scraping against the tiles, signifying Peter’s arrival, he would glance at Peter and give him a small and quick smile, before going back to his baking. Other nights, when the nightmares were worse, he wouldn’t. But, regardless, Peter’s presence was nice, it was calming.

Weeks go by, and Peter gets caught up in studying for mid-terms, so he doesn’t get to watch Bucky bake as much as he’d like to. One night, when he’d been staring at the same page of his American History textbook for the past hour without taking anything in, he decided to take a walk to the kitchen, to see if Bucky’s there, figuring he deserves a break.

And he is. Except this time, in the space beside Bucky’s workstation, which is normally left empty and spotless, there’s a bag of flour, sugar, 3 eggs, some other ingredients that Peter can’t identify from this far away, measuring equipment, bowls, and a— a piece of paper? He walks over to see what it is, and it’s a piece of lined paper, torn out from a notebook, covered in what he presumes to be Bucky’s handwriting.

A recipe, his mind supplies.

It’s for him, he realises. Peter’s never been the best at baking - he’s too impatient - but right now, baking seems like the best thing he could do. So, he reads the first instruction on the recipe, following it as precisely as he can.

Peter and Bucky don’t talk that night, instead baking in silence. Peter’s cookies come out a bit crispy around the edges, but it’s fine, it was relaxing anyways, and that was what both of them needed.

Now every time Bucky finds himself in the kitchen, baking in the middle of the night, he leaves out ingredients and a recipe for Peter. Sometimes he’s there, sometimes he isn’t.

They still don’t talk much, save for the occasional, “Can you pass me the measuring spoons, please?” or “Can I have the butter, please?” or “Do you mind if I borrow some of your sugar?”

On the nights they bake together, Peter starts to leave post-it notes with film titles on them that he thinks Bucky will enjoy.

Slowly but surely, Peter’s baking improves. He doesn’t know it, but Steve taste-tests everything he bakes. Each night, after they’ve finished baking, after Peter has left and Bucky has cleaned up, Bucky always brings a plate of Peter’s latest creations back to Steve for him to try, all excited about “Look what the kid made this time!” and “He’s improved so much already, don’t you think?”

Over the months that they bake together, it eventually becomes Peter’s coping mechanism, too.

Some nights, even, when Bucky wakes up from a nightmare and trudges to the kitchen, the light will already be on, and Peter’s there in the middle of baking something. Bucky will usually find unopened ingredients already in the space where he normally works, and a whacky recipe waiting for him that Peter has found online and printed off, wanting him to try it out.

Some nights, they don’t even bake. They’ll just mix together a massive bowl full of the ingredients for cookies or a cake, and then just eat raw cookie dough or cake batter together, straight out of the mixing bowl.

Neither of them tell Steve or Tony about their secret guilty pleasure, because they both know that they would have their necks if they found out Peter and Bucky were consuming large amounts of raw egg on a semi-regular basis.

Those are their favourite nights, though.

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sugawara-sweetheart · 4 years

Text

𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔣𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔡 (𝔪)

aged up!shinsou hitoshi x fem!reader

summary: shinsou wants to make you into the perfect lover for him

warnings: tw noncon, tw yandere, tw kidnapping, tw mindbreak, tw starvation, blood, humiliation, nsfw, marking, knife play, use of quirk

word count: 3.5k

you’re too stubborn.

shinsou hates how you keep your teeth gritted tightly together every time he comes down into the basement. sometimes you don’t even look at him and he thinks it’s stupid, to be honest. your ankles and wrists are red with the plastic zip ties digging in so deep, bounding your limbs together. you’ve been like this for almost a week now and yet you don’t respond to him ever. even when he has the kindness to bring you food and water. he sits there and spoons it into your mouth so kindly, even blowing on the hot porridge so it doesn’t scald you and you? you’re still so fucking rude, so fucking ungrateful you only open your mouth to take the morsels. you don’t even meet his violet eyes. even when he sits there and talks to you in a low, calm voice- he doesn’t want to scare you- and tells you of how once you’re better adjusted you can come upstairs, live with him happily, be a good lover to him like it should be, the very reason he brought you here, you just stare at your bound feet, frowning.

so you won’t speak to shinsou. that’s fine. he has other ways of breaking your stupid, weak mind without his quirk. he’ll break every fibre of your resistance till you’re begging for him.

you’re not sure of time in the basement, every hour vague and only indicated by the amount of golden sunlight that creeps in through the tiny window for just a few measly hours. not that it's very helpful; the steel bars nailed to it just makes you feel sicker, a cruel reminder of what this situation is. the little slivers of sunlight you can glimpse are just taunts, so close but so far to grasp when you’re tied up. but just as expected, you hear the clicking of a key being turned in a lock, the creaking of the door opening as light floods the cold stone stairs. there’s a flicker and the single lightbulb swaying from the ceiling floods with that bleak orange light that’s enough to induce a headache if you stare at it for too long.

the next day, shinsou doesn’t look at you when he enters. he places the tray down on the floor, biting back a smile at your grimace. it’s meagre, the porridge not even filling half of the bowl and the glass of water only filled two thirds of the way up. usually he sits with you and feeds you every morsel, stroking your cheeks clean when they get messy, holds the glass of water steady in his hands to your lips. but not today. he slides the tray to you dismissively and turns to leave. he waits till he’s back upstairs and the door to lock before he’s laughing at your satisfied smirk. why do you think this is a blessing? it won’t last long. you won’t last long.

shinsou misses lunch. or rather he eats it alone in his dining room and lets you miss it because he doesn’t come downstairs with home-cooked food and water like he usually does. he doesn’t come downstairs with some tea either to sip as he chats away to you, leaving pauses of silence where he expects you to reply but you don’t. well, that’ll change soon.

by the fifth day, you look exhausted. your face is already thinner, dark rings shadowing your eyes and your lips cracked with dehydration but shinsou expects it; how can you possibly look healthy, like you’re not approaching death when you’re just given only enough food and water to merely survive? your body’s eating away at itself- after all, scraps of cold porridge isn’t nutritious enough. before it was varied meals- he doesn’t want his love unhealthy- but why should you deserve fruits and chicken and vegetables now when you’re so fucking ungrateful? but you always stare at him with wide eyes whenever he enters, following his every move but you don’t say anything so he doesn’t either. nonetheless he feels a thrill of satisfaction, seeing the way you’re decaying already without him. but he knows you deserve it, that he’s just breaking down your hard layers of being such a stubborn bitch. eventually he’ll reach the softness inside. he’s just adjusting you, shaping you into his perfect woman.

he indulges himself that night by staying in the corner of the basement, watching the way you lap at the bowl of porridge with your hands restrained like a pathetic dog. he smiles when you try to drink the little water that’s there in the glass only it clatters over, spilling all over the grimy floor. poor you. you’re so pathetic, so thirsty, so desperate you lick it all up anyway. he’s never felt such a thrill before, seeing your humiliation burn away the shreds of your pride.

by the third week you’re whimpering every time he’s coming downstairs. he’s reduced your mealtimes to once a day and it’s always so hard to hold back a triumphant smirk with every whimper he hears leak from you. what happened to your resistance? but good riddance anyway, he never liked it much. and you look so pretty too with the tears clinging to your lashes as you look at him so pleadingly, not that he can appreciate it for too long because it’s better to look straight past you, to pretend you don’t exist. you always cry much louder after he slams the cellar door shut.

shinsou can see the splinters in you. you’re starting to break apart. but he needs the final blow, the final blow to break you apart completely. then you’ll be the perfect lover for him.

he doesn’t visit you for three days on the fifth week. it’s cruel but it makes him smile when he hovers near that cellar door. sometimes you’re screaming. sometimes you’re oddly quiet. but he knows you must be spiralling in a dark abyss of your own mind- the lack of human interaction letting the dark pits of your mind leach out like poison, the darkness of the cellar only inviting you further into the blackness of your mind, the hunger degenerating you till you’re consumed by your most primal instincts.

and it serves you right, shinsou thinks as he’s indulging in his own dinner in a well-lit kitchen whilst your faint screams are barely audible but there to him, like background music to his lonesome dinner.

on the third day he decides to come downstairs, to see how deep you’ve fallen. you’re lying pathetically on the floor, staring into thin air with wide, bloodshot eyes. you’ve not slept at all judging by the darkness circling your eyes, the gauntness of your face. the red scratches lining your tear stained cheeks and the clumps of hair threaded through your fingers say enough. shinsou almost feels sad- you’d been so pretty when you first ‘arrived’ looking so healthy with your full cheeks and bright eyes widened in fear but he thinks you look beautiful like this too when you look so weak, so /broken/. only he can fix you now.

you scramble at his approaching figure, kneeling with wide eyes as he comes closer with a glass of water. he looks at you and you don’t break away, not even when he holds the glass of water to your cracked, bloodied lips and you’re clawing at his hands with your own bound limbs, gulping down the water you’ve missed for almost three days. you’re clinging to him the best you can, water dribbling down your chin and panting heavily when he takes the empty glass away.

shinsou rises to walk away but stops when he feels a feeble tug on the cuff of his pants, making him stop as he slowly turns to look at you.

“please.” you’re speaking for the first time he’s brought you here. your voice is hoarse but it sounds so sweet to finally hear it, making his eyes flutter shut momentarily to appreciate it. that’s before your sobs are filling the basement, echoing off the hard walls as you cling to him. “please, please, don’t leave me! don’t go! don’t leave me here alone! please!” you’re babbling now, each begging weep only making shinsou’s heart swell more. you look so pretty with those tears streaming down your face, filled with shameless desperation. it’s pathetic, how quickly you went from being the woman to shoot him nasty glares to now begging at his feet to not leave you, to be completely needy for him.

he knew you’d be like this, how you’d eventually come to love him.

shinsou crouches down, smiling as he takes you into his arms and brushing the messy strands out of your tear-stained face, cooing and shushing you as you sob into him.

“it’s okay, i’m here, my love. i’m not going anywhere.” he murmurs in your ear over your sobs, rubbing circles into your back soothingly. “i love you, why would i leave you?”

“shinsou-” you break off, your sobs suddenly ceasing even though the silent tears still stream down your cheeks. you’re staring at him blankly, body still as he smiles, gentle but coarse fingers stroking away the tears.

“so beautiful when you cry, my darling. kiss me.” he murmurs before he’s leaning in to taste your lips.

they’re cracked and dry, metallic with dried blood but shinsou doesn’t care as he presses his to yours, his eyes fluttering shut. they’re cold but you’re kissing him back, placid and obedient in his arms as he savours you, cradling you close. this is what it should’ve always been like, you kissing him with the same love he has for you, not shunning him, not staring at him with disgust. you’d called him ‘dangerous’ for his quirk the first time he told you he loved and now do you finally see? he’s using his powers for good.

you lie back against the thin mattress shinsou provided you when he pushes you down, sitting back to take the small pocket knife from his pocket and cut through the plastic zip ties. how perfect. you’re lying there unbound for the first time in weeks and you’re not even trying to run, just staring up at the ceiling as he straddles you. he’s kissing you, not even caring how well you reciprocate in your brainwashed state but you don’t fight him when he runs his hands along your body, groping your clothed tits as he pleases and dragging his hands down to the waistband of your pants as he moans into your mouth.

“you’re so good like this, baby. just like my perfect doll.” he coos, letting his fingers stroke your clothed core. you stare at him, your eyes so glazed and empty but it’s okay, he knows in your pretty head you’re thinking of how much you love him, of how grateful you are to have him. after all, how would you survive without him? “you love me now, don’t you? i’ll reward you for being so perfect for me.” he rips your thin top apart, gasping a little at the sight of your pretty tits pebbling in the cold air of the basement.

“so beautiful for me.” he breathes as he traces kisses along the column of your throat. you don't deny him kissing down your chest, letting him reach your right nipple. he wraps his lips around the swollen bud, tongue flicking over it as he rolls the other between his fingers, smiling against your skin at the little dazed sigh that leaves you even when you’re completely under his control. it must mean you want this, shinsou realises as he switches to the other breast, sucking and nibbling and placing a small tender kiss on the erect bud before he’s moving down to your lower half.

he smiles at you but you don’t return it as you stare at him, not even following his movements of tugging down your pants. he grins at the sight of your bare pussy, prising your legs apart to reveal your folds that has him groaning.

“you look so beautiful for me spread out like this, my darling.” he moans against your skin, pressing soft kisses to the sensitive insides of your thighs. even with your body detached from your mind, you’re still twitching in shinsou’s hold, little breathy gasps escaping you. he smiles- you like this, there’s no way your mind is screaming at you to stop this, to do something- anything- begging yourself to just move any of your numb frozen limbs even if you just can’t.

“what a pretty, little cunny you have.” shinsou coos, sliding his fingers along your folds. “you’re going to make me feel real good, aren’t you?” you don’t reply but he’s certain you’re saying yes in your mind, that you’re not sobbing internally with protest. he licks his fingertips, coating it with his saliva to rub at your clit, smiling at how your folds become damp and the bud becomes swollen and red. you don’t move except for little twitches, your chest rising with heavier pants. you’re burning internally, hating your body for betraying you, hating shinsou for this.

“so good, you’re getting ready for me, aren’t you?” he breathes, hovering over your face with a sadistic grin. “you’re going to take my cock so well, aren’t you?” he kisses you as his fingers continue to rub at your clit till you’re wet enough for him so slide a finger through your folds, groaning in unison with you at the feeling of your walls clinging to him. he watches your blank face with intrigue, smiling at the little flickers of expression when he curls his finger, pressing it against your spongy walls. he chuckles at your little unrestrained whines when he adds a second and then a third, all whilst rubbing your clit, bringing you closer to an orgasm.

“you’re wrapping around my fingers so well, i can only imagine how good you’ll feel around my cock.” shinsou teases as your wet walls clench around his fingers tighter, making it hard for his fingers to fuck into your dripping cunt. “you’re going to cum, aren’t you? go on, cum all over my fingers.” soft moans leave you as you convulse around him, your tranquil body twitching with the pleasure of a hazy orgasm. loud squelching noises echo off the cold, hard walls as you drench his fingers in your cum. shinsou watches you carefully, his grin growing wider till finally your body jerks with the final wave of pleasure and your eyes shoot open, blazing with horror as you scream. you scramble for his fingers still soaked inside your wet cunt but he’s quick to push you down with his free hand, straddling your naked body with three fingers still stuffed in your sensitive, quivering hole.

“don’t scream so loud, my darling.” he purrs in a lazy voice, smiling as he leans down towards you. “you’re going to ruin that pretty voice of yours.” you gasp as you fall quiet, still panting with both the fear and the aftermath of your orgasm, bottom lip trembling as shinsou suckles and nibbles on it gently.

“shinsou,” you croak. your voice is barely there but it’s okay, it’s less opportunity for you to be that overconfident, stuck-up bitch you used to be and more of an obedient lover. “get off me, please.” he shushes you, stroking your cheek as he removes his fingers from your wet cunt to slide them into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you.

“no, you love me now, don’t you?” you don’t reply, only fresh tears filling your eyes as you lie beneath him. you don’t have the energy to fight back, even if your mind is screaming. your body’s frail from no food or water, your mind plagued with fear of abandonment, starvation, loneliness that you’re nothing but a hole for shinsou now. he doesn’t even have to use his quirk. “you were begging for me not to leave you, y/n. do you want me to go?” you shake your head quickly, letting out a desperate sob and he shushes you with a soft kiss to your forehead. he knows you need him, you love him because being stuck in this darkness, not knowing when your next meal is and with only your own poisonous thoughts festering in your head to keep you company, it’s much worse. “that’s what i thought. tell me you love me.”

“i love you.”

it’s a choked sob but shinsou doesn’t mind- he knows you mean it- muffling it as he kisses you, feeling your tears on his face as he unbuckles his belt. he doesn’t mind your weeps- it just shows how much more you love him, how grateful you are to have him that you can only reduce yourself to tears. of course you’ll be overwhelmed with the epiphany of how much you need him.

“you’re going to feel so good.” he groans when he frees his cock, rubbing it along your wet folds to gather your slick. “your pretty pussy is going to take me so well because you’re made for me.” you both moan as he pushes his length in, stretching out your walls as you gasp, clinging to his biceps with your nails piercing through the fabric of his clothes. “feels so good.” your pussy clings to his dick, feeling every vein brush against the sensitive walls till he’s filling you to the brim.

“your pussy feels so good. i knew it, i knew you’re perfect for me.” he kisses you messily, the moans slurred as he begins to thrust into you, the head of his cock brushing against your cervix to leave you crying out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

“shinsou, you’re too deep- i don’t like it!” he shushes you by rubbing his fingers against your clit, melding your pained cries into moans of pleasure as he continues to fuck you. you’re crying, writhing with hate of this but you can’t deny the way you’re clenching around his length, how you’re getting wetter, how sweet pleasure is filling you. “please!” your cries only seem to encourage him, his thrusts speeding up with strings of moans escaping him, his hips snapping roughly against yours.

“no, it feels good. i know i’m making you feel good, your pretty pussy’s squeezing me so tight.”

you clench your watery eyes shut, gripping shinsou’s biceps tightly, nails clinging to his skin you’re sure he’ll be left with marks but he doesn’t stop his sporadic thrusts, kissing down your neck with wet, open-mouthed kisses that has you gasping.

“look at me, look at me when i’m fucking you.” his voice is a nasty snarl. you hate it when you’re forcing your eyes open, the disgust leaching into you at how he stares at you with such loving eyes, lips stretched into a triumphant grin. “so beautiful. and you’re all mine.”

as he fucks you, a flash of silver catches his eye and he reaches for the pocket knife lying by the broken zip ties, your eyes widening with horror.

“no, no! please don’t!” you scream, trying to kick him away but he’s too strong, pinning you down with one hand as the other grips the blade, holding it before your face with his perfectly-straight teeth gritted together, little hisses of pleasure escaping him.

“don’t worry, baby. i’m just marking what’s mine.”

an excruciating scream of agony escapes when he presses the tip of the silver blade into the remaining fat of your thighs, a scarlet bead of blood appearing. you jerk, back arching as you sob with the pain as he drags the knife through your skin, smiling at the way it so perfectly slices to form his initials. the warm blood trickles down your skin as you’re carved as his, finally so perfect now that he owns you. you must love it, even if you’re thrashing with pain and sobbing dryly, bloodied hands grasping at the sliced skin, because you’re squeezing his dick so hard, toes curling into the mattress.

“shinsou, stop!” you shriek, bloody legs jerking from underneath him but with the way he’s caging you there’s no escape. he laughs mirthlessly.

“and why would i do that when you’re so close to cumming?”

the moment your orgasm hits you, shinsou’s fingers force their way into your mouth, forcing you to suck on them with choked muffled moans escaping you. your cunt convulses around his cock, making you both moan as he fucks you through your high, groaning as your wetness gushes around him till you’re a panting, twitching mess.

“good girl.” shinsou grunts before his cock twitches and he releases into you, filling up your warm cunt with his seed, his lips pressed to yours. you don’t move, you don’t cry, you don’t kiss him back. as he moves back to admire you lying there so feebly, so passive with unblinking eyes staring up at the dingy ceiling and your leg permanently marked with the red stains of his initials, he smiles. this is what it should’ve always been like. this is what’s finally right.

“you’re the perfect girl for me.”

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dancingazaleas · 3 years

Text

historia reiss | forever and always

writing for historia is making me fall in love with her and realize that she’s an amazingly written character.

enjoy this bittersweet one shot

warnings/notes: canon au, takes place during historia’s pregnancy, season 3 and up spoilers, cursing, angst, fluff/comfort, s4 spoilers, chapter 105 and up spoilers.

you remember the first day you met historia. it was the first time she came back to the farm, face devoid of all emotion. you’d heard that it was her hometown whenever you were planting vegetables with your friend. you gaped at her, exclaiming that she had to have been lying since she was a queen. no one disclosed why she was there, not that you minded, you didn’t want to get in her way.

now, you’re opening your eyes to see her staring at you. you just blink and bring your hand to wipe the sleep out of your eyes.

“you alright,” you murmured, staring at the bump on her belly.

she just gives a nod that leaves you unconvinced.

“are you sure? you don’t typically come sleep with me in my room,” you hesitate putting a comforting hand on her bicep, but she doesn’t react.

a little while after historia had gotten pregnant, the two of you had met when she went to town for fruits and vegetables. she hardly spoke and it often left you confused.

whenever historia started showing, she finally admitted that she didn’t live with anyone. a farmer, who you assume got her pregnant, would often come by her house and stay with her for hours. he cared for her whenever he was there, but she even admitted that she can’t be as friendly with him as she is with you. you scoffed at the statement; historia only spoke whenever it was required and whenever she felt like it.

you offered to move in with her, you had needed to move out of your parent’s home anyway, and all she gave was a small smile and a nod. you slept in the room next to her’s and told her that if she was having difficulty with sleeping that she could sleep with you. it was rare that she’d have issues sleeping, but then again historia didn’t speak up about much.

“just a nightmare,” she said quietly.

you hum in response, sliding your hand up to her cheek. she had no interest in sharing what it was about.

“we’ve gotta get up,” you smile as you stroke her cheek with your thumb.

she nods, watching you sit up and get out of bed. you yawn and stretch your arms towards the sky, walking over to historia’s side of the bed to see if she needed help getting up. she got up without an issue, silently intertwining her fingers with your’s.

around this time, you usually helped her bathe. and by help, you just stood close by the bathroom door to make sure she doesn’t slip.

“need help taking off your nightgown,” you ask while you turn on the shower, keeping your hand under the stream of the water to feel it warm up just a slight.

“please and thank you,” she watches you swat your hand back and forth to get rid of the water on your hand.

“you’re welcome,” you give her a toothy smile, slowly pulling up her nightgown and over her head. all she wore was underwear.

“do you need my help with those, or can you do it alone,” historia nods once more, continuing to stare at you—something that you’ve gotten used to.

historia can’t help but feel an immense amount of adoration for you. you take care of her, speak to her, and help her do mundane things. if it weren’t for you and the farmer who got her pregnant, she’d probably sit at home and rot in self despair.

she can’t remember the last time she’s seen her comrades, her friends. they’re off at marley, bringing back eren along with his brother. she misses them more than she can describe, but she’s never said anything about it to no one else but you. when she told you, you held her small, crying body in your warm arms. she feels safe whenever she’s with you, like you won’t judge her for all that she’s done.

you never touched on the fact that she’s a queen, you treated her as a friend. and it’s been a while since she’s felt as such. she felt content for the first time ever since eren’s disappearance.

she stands under the stream of the water, mind wondering what happened with her friends. they left her, not because they wanted to, but because they had to. eren left her, despite his constant reassurance that he wouldn’t try to go along with zeke’s plan. she doesn’t know his intent, she doesn’t want to.

without even realizing it, she lets out a small sob. her tears are mixing with the lukewarm water that’s covering her, and her small shoulders shake trying to hold in more sobs. she remembers that it’s only you in the house, so she lets go of her bottom lip that’s trapped between her teeth. she’s sobbing wantonly now, reaching up to cover her eyes as she slowly lowers herself to the floor. she assumes she must’ve knocked something down because you’re running into the bathroom and towards her.

when she looks up at you, she’s greeted with a sad smile. you crouch down, fully clothed, and hold her cheeks in your palms. her sobs are reduced to tears in a matter of minutes, and even if it’s just you, she still feels ashamed.

she watches you lather up shampoo in your hands, sitting on your bottom and scooting closer to her. you’re in your pajamas, which are now soaked, and reaching to her hair and covering her hair in the soap. the soap becomes bubbly at the contact of water, and she can’t help but crack a small smile at you tapping her nose with a bubbly finger. it leaves her with a huge bubble on her nose.

you rinse her of the shampoo, pouring some conditioner into your hands and running your fingers through her long tresses.

you rinse her off again and help her onto her feet, asking if she wanted to rub the soap all over herself on her own or if she needed help. she said she could do it, which she did quickly, and got out of the shower. you wrapped her in a towel, not bothering to turn off the water because you were probably going to get in next.

“alright, your clothes are on your bed. i’m going to take a quick shower and get out of these clothes—“

“no!,” it was the loudest you’d ever heard her speak.

“no..,” she softened her voice, “i don’t want to be alone right now.”

it felt like you were switching places with her since you just stared and nodded. historia wasn’t fully dried off along with her hair, so she could sit on the toilet with the towel still wrapped around her.

you peeled off your clothes, ignoring the loud ‘plop’ that followed along with the dropping of your cloths. she didn’t stare at you, instead she stared at her hands. she let the sound of your humming cleanse her mind, even if it was just for a moment.

————

your holding hands with historia as you guide her through the small plaza of the town. as the two of you were walking, she kept staring at the people she was passing by. happy couples that were seemingly on dates, rowdy and happy children running around, and teenagers talking to some of the merchants.

somehow, she thought of ymir as she stared at the couple with linked arms.

ymir wanted that life for the two of them. ymir wanted to live in a cottage, small house, wherever with historia. she wanted historia to be free, free to be her own person that wasn’t tied down by the government. ymir wanted the two of them to be married, she didn’t care where; as long as she was with historia.

historia didn’t realize she was crying and that she was in a trance until she felt your thumb wiping away her tears. your eyes stared into her own with your eyebrows bunched up in concern and a frown on your face. from what she saw in her peripheral view, the two of you were in a shaded alleyway.

you didn’t say anything just yet, continuing to scrub away her crystalline tears and her snot.

“it’s alright,” you whisper as you kiss her forehead, “she’s in a better place.”

somehow, you always knew what was wrong with her. she had once told you about ymir and what had happened to her, and you couldn’t help but feel pure sympathy as you listened.

she’s told you everything that she’s gone through and you can’t even imagine being that strong. you just apologized and told her that she was strong, even when she told you she didn’t feel like it.

“do you want to go back home? i had presumed that we could’ve enjoyed shopping for fruit together. i didn’t mean to give you any memories,” you’re so patient.

“what... what do you think ymir would’ve wanted for me,” she croaks out and brings her small hands to wrap around your wrist.

“from what i’ve heard about her, i think ymir would’ve wanted you to..,” you think for a moment, “be happy and be your own person. no matter the circumstances. to move on. to live.”

historia sniffles and nods, opting to rest her forehead against your sternum. you stroke her hair with your right hand and her back with your left.

“you have my love, historia,” you whisper to her after you’ve kissed the crown of her head.

“you have mine as well,” she whispers into your chest, “forever and always.”

————

a few months had passed since the incident in the plaza, and now historia and you were a couple. but it wasn’t as if you two got together immediately after, the two of you waited until last month to be together. when you’d reminded her of ymir’s wish, she found herself finally putting the ‘what could have been’ scenarios to rest. she continued to deal with the disappearance of both her friends and eren. she still continued to deal with nightmares, but found them becoming just a bit more tolerable whenever you were near.

now, you were making her lemonade as she sat out on the porch. you hum quietly as you’re picking up the tray of the cups and lemonade. as you walk towards the porch, you find yourself singing.

“historia, i made you some lemon... nade...?” you slowed your singing tune as you saw multiple soldiers standing on the porch in front historia in her rocking chair.

they all gaped at you, all but one female and one male solider. you felt your face get hot from embarrassment, immediately whipping your head to look at historia.

“should i make some more lemonade?”

a few minutes later and they all were sitting in your’s and historia’s living room while you handed out glasses of lemonade. historia sat in a rocking chair once more, hands placed on her protruding belly as she stares at you with a small smile.

when you were done, you sat down in separate rocking chair next to historia’s. you’d often sit in the living room together, idly talking with one another sometimes as you stared at the sun and children outside.

“um... so,” a solider, who you assume is growing hair, “who exactly are you?”

you smile, “i’m (name) (last name). i often take care of historia whenever she needs it. i’m also her lover.”

almost all of them dropped their jaws, heads turning to historia. she just waves her hand, a signal for you to explain.

“i met historia a little while ago. i’ve lived with her for a while as well. we’ve only gotten together since last month,” you explain, “now... who are you?”

a tall person stood up from their seat, a green bolo tie hanging from their neck, “i’m hanji zoe, commander of the scout regiment. this is historia’s old squad from when she was in the regiment as well. we... we came to tell her some news.”

“everyone introduce yourself please,” hanji turned towards the rest of their squad.

“levi,” a short man grumbles with his head in his hands.

“jean kirstein.”

“connie springer, nice to meet you.”

“i’m armin arlelt.”

“mikasa ackerman.”

you smile, “i’ve heard so much about you all!”

before they could all pester you about what historia said, historia spoke up with a glass in her hand.

“where’s sasha... she’s not here.”

silence flooded the area and you couldn’t help but get a bad feeling in your stomach. something was wrong.

“historia... sasha is..,” mikasa starts to speak up but is interrupted by the cracking of her own voice.

“eren killed sasha,” connie admitted.

there was a sound of glass breaking and then silence. historia’s eyes were wide and scared, she wanted someone to tell her they were just kidding.

but when you jumped to your feet to help her step over the glass, that’s when she knew it was real.

“i’m afraid i’m going to have to ask you to leave...,” your own voice is cracking, despite having no personal affairs to sasha.

after they’d left, she cried. cried into your chest and told you about her first interaction of sasha. she told you the potato story. the countless stories about their time they spent together with ymir.

neither of you slept that night.

————

historia sat at the dining table, watching you make dinner for the two of you. you were humming and telling her about your day—since the farmer spent most of the day with her—a huge grin spread across your face.

your eyes were shining as you walked towards her with her plate in your hands. you had on one of her shirts one, one she got when she started showing, and a long grey skirt. you’ve got brown boots on and they remind her of her cadet days for some reason. she pushes away the thought, knowing that she’d just end up in tears.

you look so... domestic. like a mother bringing her children food. a wife greeting her husband from work. it made her smile, a full smile, when you put her plate in front of her.

when she looks back up to you, she felt her stomach drop.

you had fat tears rolling down your face with your lips parted in surprise. your eyebrows were raised in bewilderment.

you’d never seen historia give anything more than a small smile. and even then, it didn’t last for long.

your lips curl up in a smile and you take ahold of her face with your palms. you give her a big kiss, ignoring the salty taste of your own tears mixing in. your smile stayed as you pulled away, tears continuing to fall from your eyes.

“your smile,” you give a breathy smile, “i’m glad to see you happy. ‘s all i ever wanted.”

your tears and smiles are infectious. her hands are holding your cheeks now and your foreheads are resting against each other’s. you share multiple kisses and giggles as you hold each other.

“love you, i love you,” you laugh even as your voice cracks inside your throat, “i love you, forever and always.”

“and i love you back, forever and always,” it’s the first time you’ve heard her laugh, first time since you’ve seen her smile, the first time her eyes were filled with light.

you ignore impending doom that hangs over your heads. you know you’re going to die and you know historia’s going to live. to live through the birth of her child and the birth of the rumbling.

and she’ll once again suffer through the death of the one she loves.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #anime #historia x reader #historia #historia reiss #aot fanfiction #aot final season #snk 138

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animebaby00 · 3 years

Text

Haikyuu!! Headcanons: Waking Up Their S/O and Bringing Them Breakfast in Bed

(My very first set of headcanons >.<)

Characters: Shoyo, Kageyama, and Sugawara

Shoyo

Three words. Ball. Of. Sunshine.

Whenever he wakes you up, he is full of giggles.

Blows little raspberries on your cheek

"Y/NNNNN Wake uppppppp."

If you don't arise from your slumber he softly boops you on the nose or gives you eskimo kisses until you do.

It's the cutest kind of annoying so you don't mind in the slightest.

He's bouncing on the balls of his feet once you're up and sitting.

"Okay I'm up…" you slurr. (He loves your groggy state by the way)

"Heehee, it's about time. I have something for you."

You're confused as he reaches behind himself then lays out the tray before you.

This foodie baby makes you the sweetest breakfasts….literally.

Anything from homemade pancakes and waffles to fresh doughnuts or muffins from the bakery down the street.

And for something healthy...fruit skewers made into little hearts and stars >.<

"Aweee Shoyo...this is so sweet."

And of course everything is delicious.

He sits beside you as you eat, making small talk.

You feed him small bites every so often but he still manages to get food on his face.

His face scrunches as you clean it off with a napkin.

Maple syrup flavored kisses.

Overall, just a sweet and fluffy morning.

Kageyama

He's actually really nice in waking you up.

Rubs your shoulder and arm through the covers or bends down to press his forehead to yours.

"Hey, you can't sleep forever you know."

You stretch, eyeing him with a teasing smirk, "Is that a challenge?"

He rolls his eyes but you didn't miss that little smile as he pulled on your arm.

"Come on and sit up, idiot, your foods gonna get cold."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

You watch as he brings the tray over and sets it down in front of you.

Despite what others think, he's actually a decent cook.

Typically, any breakfast he makes you consists of rice with an egg since it's the most common, but he never fails to surprise you.

Omurice, poached, perfect sunny side up. You name it, he can do it.

The rice is always warm and fluffy and he sometimes makes it into rice balls.

Sometimes he'll throw in leftover pork or chicken from the night before for extra flavor.

It's simple, but perfect

"It's really good." You smile warmly, "Thank you Kageyama."

He's still not completely used to compliments so the tiniest bit of a blushy blush coats his face as he sits down next to you on the edge of the bed, scratching his cheek.

"Y-you're welcome…"

Sugawara

No wonder this boy's name is close to the word "sugar" because he is the absolute sweetest when it comes to waking you up.

All of the forehead kisses in the world.

"Good morning beautiful. Time to wake up..."

Ohhhh the butterflies.

Sometimes being around him felt like actual heaven.

"Mmmmm...Good morning." You hum.

Suga always has to ask how you slept. He worries if you sleep poorly since he's convinced that an ideal day starts with a good night's sleep...and a nutritious breakfast.

"What's that behind you, Suga ?"

He smiles. Good god this boy is an angel.

"Oh, just a little something."

He places the tray on your lap and...wow.

Suga is the mom of the volleyball club, but that trait exists in his cooking too.

You would have been fine with a simple plate of eggs and toast…but with Suga in your life, you were guaranteed intricate perfect nutrition.

Baked fish, miso soup, rice, crisp vegetables and a rolled omlet complete with fresh squeezed orange juice and a cup of tea or coffee.

"Oh my gosh...Suga you didn't have to do all of this."

But he brushes it off like it's nothing and sits next to you.

"Your right. I didn't have to." He kisses your cheek and puts his arm around your waist "I wanted to. Now go ahead and enjoy it, okay?"

"Okay...but I'm making you lunch later !"

"Haha, deal."

#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #s/o tag #gender neutral reader #haikyuu headcannons #scenarios #shoyo hinata #kageyama #suguwara #breakfast in bed #my first headcanon list

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fuckinuchihas · 3 years

Text

This was my first time writing Aone, really so I hope you like it! Merry Christmas @introloves

When Christmas morning comes around, you feel a bit overwhelmed. You’ve put up the tiny discount tree and decorated, but with it being your first real Christmas by yourself, it was a little difficult to figure out everything you needed to do on your own. Fortunately, you weren't truly alone: You had the help of your amazing boyfriend.

You put the saucepan of water on, determined to make your own Champurrado but stop short of turning it on when you hear a soft, polite knock on the door.

You scrunch up your face a little but quickly go to answer it.

Aone’s looming figure greets you and you can’t help but smile up at him.

“You didn’t have to!” you say, surprised to see him when you know he could be spending this time with his family.

“You’re alone,” he says matter of factly, and while it’s not untrue it doesn’t feel good to hear it. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it but the words draw attention to the hollow parts of you.

It takes a few minutes to realize his arms are laden with packages and bags. “I-those aren’t all for me are they?” you ask, eyes bulging at the sight of it all.

He waits politely for you to invite him in, which you do once you take a second to breathe. He ducks through the entry and immediately sits the packages down by the tree. With a nod to you, he takes some bags and goes into the fairly small kitchen in your tiny apartment.

He grunts a bit as he pulls items out of bags. There’s ingredients and fresh fruit, and you start to get an idea of what’s happening. “Are you...cooking for me?” you ask, still unbelieving that any of this is happening.

Aone hears the hesitance, the disbelief in your voice and he stops what he’s doing. He turns to you, large hands cupping your face as he drops his gaze to meet your eyes. “I want to-I want to take care of you, today. Please.”

You start to object based purely on the insecurities you have and the overwhelming feeling as if you’re undeserving but there’s something about the way he holds you, the way his eyes and expression spell sincerity, about everything you’ve experienced with him over the last ten months that stops you.

“You always do, ‘one.”

You have never seen Aone smile so brightly and it warms your heart to the core.

He gently guides you to the couch and motions for you to have a seat before coming back a few minutes later with a soft fuzzy blanket from your closet, and one of the biggest bowls of popcorn you’ve ever seen. You didn’t even realize you had a bowl that large.

You decide to not worry too much, or at least you try not to, and you focus on the fondness and love you feel when you think of the sweet, wonderful man you’ve fallen head over heels in love with.

A bit later you smell something delicious in the kitchen and you groan a bit wondering when you’ll be able to taste whatever is creating that delightful scent. You feel a little guilty sitting on the couch playing around on your phone while he’s actively doing something kind for you but you know if you get up to help he’s only going to give you that sad, mildly disappointed look so you stay seated.

It’s not much longer before he brings in a large tray, practically the full length of your small coffee table, and sits down enough food for twice as many people. There’s a couple different meat choices and a plate of pancakes with some eggs fried over medium beautifully seated on top. A bowl of fruit sliced up with a bottle of honey and a package of granola sit at the opposite corner but in the middle there are two large mugs with holiday prints on the outside that are filled to the brim with a familiar aroma.

“Did you...did you make Champurrado for me?” you ask, surprised.

He nods in response and holds the warm mug out to you.

You take a drink and moan as the warm liquid splashes onto your tongue. It’s just the right amount of spice and chocolate and you are more than a little impressed. Not that Aone ever ceases to amaze you.

“Eat,” he says with a short grunt and you just look up at him with wide eyes.

“Thank you Nobu. I really appreciate everything,” you answer, trying and failing to ignore the slight flush of his cheeks but he nudges your plate toward you with a soft push so you don’t comment any further on it.

After breakfast you start to clean up and he goes to stop you but that’s where you put your foot down. “No, you cooked I can do the cleanup. Thank you for wanting to do all these nice things for me but I can’t just sit around while you do all the work.”

He eventually agrees and you take the leftovers to the kitchen and start to clean up, not that there’s much of a mess he’s cleaned up after himself except for dishes and putting away spare food.

You hear a bit of rustling around in the living room but ignore it to focus on finishing your own tasks.

When you get back to the living room there’s a jar that is filled to the brim with something that looks like brown paper. There’s a tag on the front that you can read once you get a little closer that says “25 THINGS”

You stare at it oddly, but he passes it over to you.

“Open it,” he says, and you hesitantly uncap the jar.

The brown paper you saw is in fact brown slips of paper neatly rolled up. He turns the lid over and you gasp. “25 THINGS I LOVE ABOUT YOU”

“I- this is…” you start to lose your cool, feeling the tears prickle at the corners of your eyes.

You pull a slip of paper out and with his encouragement, you unfold it.

#17 The way your small hand fits in mine

He motions for you to keep going, and you’re helpless to stop.

#4 The softness of your skin

#9 The way your eyes light up when you talk about the things you love

#21 The way you look at me; not in fear but with care

#1 Your warm hugs

By this time, the tears are falling without your permission but he just swipes them away without a word and asks that you keep going.

#7 Your kiss, your touch, the way you make me feel safe with you

#2 When you hum along to a familiar song

#10 The kindness of your heart

#11 Your big brown eyes

“Nobu I can’t- this is all too much I don’t deserve all of these..” you start but he silences you with a finger pressed to your lips.

“It’s not for you to argue, It’s how I feel,” he says, then taking another slip of paper and handing it over to you. “You can trust me.”

#24 Your generous soul

#8 The rare moments when you’re proud of yourself

#22 Your laugh, it reminds me that I’m more than a statue

The tears are streaming now, each line more and more overwhelming. You don’t understand how anyone could think and feel all of this for you but you do trust him, you trust his heart, and trust that he would never lie to you. Aone hands you a tissue and asks if you would like to take a break.

The problem with that is that you know you’re just going to start crying again so you might as well get it all out at once.

#3 How strong you are, how you keep fighting for me every day

#25 The way you hold me, the way you let me hold you

#13 Feeling your smile against my lips or my skin

You still feel flooded with unexplained emotions but you pucker your lips and he quickly gives you exactly what you’re asking for. When the tears start up again, this time you’re smiling. “I love that too,” you say, grinning purposely against his mouth.

#5 Your voice in the morning, sleep soft and warm

#16 The smell of your shampoo

#18 How you make your eyes look even bigger and more beautiful

“Do you mean my eyeliner?” you ask, and he shrugs but you’re pretty sure that’s a yes. You’ll keep that in mind for later.

#6 When you speak faster and louder because you’re excited

#20 The way you feel sitting in my lap

You waste no time crawling into his lap after reading this, and promise that whenever the two of you are alone, he can reach out for you and you’ll always give him that closeness, that intimacy.

#15 The rise and fall of your chest while you sleep

#12 How you make me feel so strong and powerful, like I can do anything

You’ve calmed your breathing a little, controlling the tears a bit but you’re not sure how long it will last and this nearly has you sobbing again. ‘You can, you can do absolutely everything. I believe in you more than I believe in anything or anyone else.”

“That’s how I feel,” he says, and you melt into him all over again.

#23 When you taste like strawberries, vanilla, or just you

#19 How you always think of others before yourself

#14 The way you made room for me in your heart when I know it wasn’t easy

“This all feels so one sided, like you’re doing all the work. I want to take care of you too, ‘one,” you say, looking up at him with glassy eyes.

“You always do.”

You kiss him forcefully, crawling up to loop your arms over his shoulders and press your face into his neck. “I love you so much, Takanobu.”

“And I you,” he says, patting your head gently as you breathe in his comforting scent. “One day I hope you will love yourself as much as I love you.”

“I’ll try,” you say, and it’s the most you can promise but that’s enough for him.

#haikyuu!!#aone takanobu x reader #aone takanobu x you #Aone Fluff.#not naruto #not knb #my stuff #Secret Santa #Shan Shan's Secret Santa #For Jax #Aone HCS

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eyesupmarksman · 3 years

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Geraskier - The Dark and the Flame (Secret Santa Gift)

Happy Witcher Secret Santa @inikokoru! 🐺

Geralt and Jaskier weather their winter in Kaer Morhen; featuring Soft!Boys and Geralt getting to finally rest and enjoy his time with his bard 🥰 Hope you have a wonderful holiday season!

Thank you @thewitchersecretsanta for hosting such a wonderful festive event! Happy holidays 🎅🏻

Word Count: 2,499

Warnings: None

AO3 Link!

------------------------------

Kaer Morhen seems like a world away. Perched on top of a mountain peak, backed up against the stone and shrouded in a thick forest, curious eyes aren’t able to follow them up the steep sloping trails. The last humans Jaskier will see for the winter are in the village at the foot of the mountain; the last place where they can get provisions for the trails and the keep itself. Geralt picks up some dried beef and a loaf of bread, and Jaskier re-furs his cloak. It’s going to be a harsh winter, if he goes by how wonderful of a summer they had this year. An old peasant’s saying; a harsh summer, an equally harsh winter.

The paths aren’t terrible. Some of them are flooded, but Geralt nods for him to get on to Roach while the Witcher guides them through on foot. He’s been up and down this mountain ever since he first set off to be a Witcher; he knows where to step and where to avoid. Still, Jaskier bundles his cloak around himself and wishes that time would trudge by just that bit quicker. A storm will roll in soon enough. Blackened and heavy clouds slump over a nearby ridge.

They reach the walls of the keep just as the first drops of rain hit.

A winter at the keep means rest for everyone, including the horses. They stay in their stables and munch on stored hay and rolled oats, happy to be tackless for the season. With how much they’ve traveled throughout the year, and all of the monsters Geralt has hunted, Roach deserves her rest more than most.

Jaskier has been to the keep before. The first winter was spent stuck to Geralt’s side, shadowing him around as the Witcher showed him where to go for what. The keep sprawls out in every sort of direction, even delving deep into the mountain itself. A few sun-turns have passed. He knows where to go to get to Geralt’s room, the hot springs underneath the keep, Vesemir’s library, and the arena and stables outside. Other than that, he’s afraid of wandering off of his usual track because he’ll only get lost.

Vesemir allows his pups the first few days to rest. His sons have spent the last three seasons trudging through the Continent, wandering from contract to contract and collecting more injuries starts to take its toll. Jaskier can’t complain. The worst he’s dealt with this year is bartering with angry villagers not wanting to pay the Witcher for his service in clearing out a whole nekker nest. He still can’t remember what happened; just that someone with something knocked the back of his head, he fell to the ground, and woke up in a tavern bed almost ten hours later to a distraught, but furious, Witcher watching over him.

So he’s content to let Geralt relax into the keep, do whatever he needs to do to gain life back into his bones. Sleep evades him some nights, while others are spent working and then travelling the next day. He’s owed sleep. Within the first few minutes of being inside of the keep, Jaskier shepherds Geralt to his room. “Take off your armour and let me get you some clean clothes,” he says, letting the door click shut behind them.

Geralt arches an eyebrow at the command, but follows it anyway.

Jaskier listens to the tell-tale sounds of Geralt undoing the buckles and straps of his armour. Most of it is unceremoniously dumped into a corner of the room. He’s meticulously careful with caring for it and mending it whenever he can during the year. But here, safe behind high and study walls, there’s no need for it, and it will be put away until the day comes where the snow thaws and the sun returns. When he’s stripped down to nothing but an undershirt and breeches, Geralt perches at the foot of his bed and picks at the laces of his boots.

Vesemir won’t have anything ready for them to eat just yet. His stews and soups and roasts take up most of the day to prepare and simmer, and they’re good. Jaskier’s stomach growls at the thought of a warm bowl of stew or a few thick slices of roasted venison waiting for him down in the dining hall. But not yet. Now, he pads back over to Geralt, handing him some folded, fresh clothes and a handful of vials of lotions and soaps. “Go down to the baths and get the road off of you,” he instructs simply. “I’ll air the room and get the fire started.”

Geralt looks too exhausted to go down to the dining hall and try and hold air with Vesemir and the others. Though, Jaskier suspects that the elder might understand that he could be dining alone tonight, seeing how exhausted his sons were when they trudged one by one into the keep’s main hall, road-weary and worn.

Geralt hums, clambering on to his feet. Bare-foot, he pads down the halls towards the springs. Really, Jaskier could have had a tub sourced from somewhere; but he looks around the room and sees all the work he needs to do to get it ready. He starts with airing the room, cracking the lancet windows open just a little bit to let fresh, crisp air inside. It doesn’t take long for musky, dust-riddled air to be swept out. He closes them when the air turns just a small bit cold, nipping at his skin. The hearth next. A metal bucket of chopped wood sits by the hearth. Vesemir, Jaskier thinks. The sheets on the bed are new, and Geralt has some newly washed clothes already within his drawers. Even now, with his pups fully grown and waning in years, Vesemir will still look after them.

Jaskier makes quick work of sparking the fire to life. He feeds the fire with two small, dry logs before his ears twitch at a knock on the door. Eskel and Lambert will have already retired to their own rooms. Jaskier saw the shadows gaunting their faces. He strides over to the door, blinking when he sees Vesemir standing outside with a tray in his hands.

Two piping bowls of stew, a loaf of crusted bread, a small wedge of cheese, and a bottle of wine with tankards. Jaskier blinks.

“I thought that you might have wanted to relax on your first night here,” Vesemir explains, holding out the tray. It’s heavy and laden with everything they could love. His stomach trembles at the sight of the food. Full meals were few and far between out on the road; unless they were lucky enough to stumble on a contract from a kind enough lord or lady, then their banquet table was splayed open for them. And Vesemir’s meals always hold a special place in his heart. Jaskier catches the scent of roasted herbs and his mouth waters.

Vesemir offers him one of his barely-there smiles, nothing more than a lift of the corner of his lip. “Have a good night, bard.”

By the time Geralt pads back, Jaskier smiles. His Witcher is flushed red from the hot water, smelling of the oils and lotions Jaskier likes to bathe him in. In fresh clothes and bare feet, he struggles to find any reason why anyone in the Continent would ever be afraid of the Witcher. White, wet hair tumbles down on to his shoulders, slack and relaxed as he shuffles over to a small desk near Jaskier. He holds out a fine-toothed comb. And Jaskier’s smile only grows.

Geralt wordlessly sits on a chair in front of him, sighing contently at the first pass of Jaskier’s fingers through his hair. If he had to bathe alone, without Jaskier’s hands dusting over his skin, then he can get the bard to at least comb through his hair. It was a slow process, getting Geralt used to the perfumed lotions and oils and soaps Jaskier likes to use. He remembers when Geralt’s nose would wrinkle at the sharp scent of citrus fruits or the musk of desert flowers. But slowly, when they started lying in the same bed, entangled in each other, Jaskier woke up to the Witcher’s nose pressed into the groove of his neck, breathing in lungfuls of scent.

The hearth crackles to life, heat slowly blooming out into the room. Geralt hums. “Vesemir dropped that up, did he?” he nods to the tray sitting nearby.

Jaskier runs the comb through Geralt’s hair. “Hmm. We can eat after I’m finished.”

Geralt sits patiently, almost slumbering as he leans back against Jaskier and sinks against him.

The bard huffs a light laugh. With the last of Geralt’s hair combed through, he nudges the Witcher’s shoulder. “Eat,” he says, setting his comb on to the table, and bringing over a chair. The meal is everything he needed it to be and more. The first spoonful of thick stew has him swallowing down a moan. He’s missed this; familiar, good home-cooked food that has his toes curling in his boots. The fire crackles nearby and the storm threatening to spill over outside is long forgotten about.

Geralt keeps his tankard filled with wine. As soon as it slips beneath the half-way mark, the Witcher reaches over with the bottle and tops it up. Jaskier chuckles around a mouthful of bread. His Witcher will keep him warm and fed and on the right side of drunk, plied and smiling with wine. They don’t need to talk at all. Jaskier has done enough talking throughout the past three seasons for the both of them. He’s happy to let his voice rest throughout the winter, though his lute could still whisper to him. A merry Eskel and Lambert might ask a song or two from him, but that will be it. For now, though, Jaskier sits happily across from his Witcher, their knees touching as they scoff down as much food as they’re able to.

The wind howls outside. Harsh rain lashes against the keep’s battlements and walls, but Kaer Morhen has weathered its fair share of storms throughout the centuries. The hearth crackles and spits and warmth blooms throughout the room. Jaskier sighs up at the ceiling, letting his eyes flicker closed. He could slip away into the soft and plush mattress. The sheets are slung lowly over the both of them, not needed for the moment now that the hearth’s fire has picked up. But Geralt still dozes by his side, resting his head on Jaskier’s shoulder and curling an arm around the bard’s middle.

Jaskier skims a hand over the Witcher’s back. He’s shed his shirt, leaving it somewhere outside of their bed. He has Jaskier to keep him warm, so why would he need it? And with a shirt on, he wouldn’t have been able to feel and lounge in the bard’s touch dusting over him. Jaskier’s fingers trail up and down the Witcher’s back, running over the ridges of his spine and across his shoulders. He can feel how heavy Geralt is getting, slowly sinking into sleep.

There have been only a handful of times where Geralt has let himself lower his guard like this. Out on the path, Geralt’s shoulders were always tense and his eyes continuously scanning crowds and rooms. Even when they slept, either out on the road underneath the stars or in tavern rooms, Geralt never ventured too deeply down. A slight creak of a floorboard or a twig snapping, and Geralt would have his sword in his hand and ready to strike within seconds.

Both of them indulge in the winter; Geralt with letting his shoulders drop and his hackles lower, and Jaskier watching his Witcher finally relax. The Continent can survive on its own for the season. Or the other Witchers can deal with it. One of Geralt’s brothers told him that the other schools don’t act like they do; their cubs and fledglings can traverse through the countryside if they want, but only the wolves return to their mountain religiously for the winter. And even then, Eskel told him that sometimes, when they’re short on coin or if the year had been particularly riddled with contracts, they’ll stay.

Jaskier’s fingers dust the ridges of Geralt’s spine, gently running over patches of marred skin and the bumps of scars. Long-since healed and beginning to fade, but there nonetheless. He loosens a sigh, turning his head just enough to dust a kiss to the crown of Geralt’s head. It’s nothing major; merely a brush of lips. He lingers, smelling bathing salts and oils. Underneath it all is the familiar scent of Geralt.

The Witcher hums, curling further into Jaskier’s chest. Full-bellied and pliant from a bath, he’s slipping. He’s growing heavier and heavier in Jaskier’s arms. It won’t be long until sleep stops skirting the shadows of the room and comes slinking out to lull him under. Jaskier won’t be long after. His eyelids grow heavier with each passing moment.

They’ll have chores in the following week. The keep has gone three seasons with just Vesemir looking after it; and though he’s loathe to admit it, he’s getting on in years and cannot see to everything. Cracks have formed in the mortar keeping the outer walls together, and the stones need to be re-pointed. But that’s next week. Jaskier reaches up to card his fingers through Geralt’s hair. He’ll have nothing to do with the heavier work. Eskel and Lambert and Geralt can deal with clambering up the high stone walls and keeping them in check. He’ll find something to do. He’s sure Vesemir has constructed a list as long as his arm to keep him busy for the season.

Until then—

Jaskier catches the blankets over their hips and tugs them up to their chests. Geralt burrows into him; the arm around the bard’s waist tightening and possessive. The candles around the room have long since quenched themselves. The only light and heat come blooming out of the hearth. It crackles and flickers, but it’s what they both end up falling asleep to. Geralt slips away first, soft snores rumbling out of his chest and blowing against Jaskier’s chest.

Jaskier’s arms will stay around his Witcher. They don’t part when they sleep. Jaskier can’t count how many times they’ve woken up entangled in each other, not knowing where one began and the other ended.

The warmth of the room and the soft bed beneath him and the Witcher coiled against his side; it’s too much of a fight to stay awake. But he wants to. He wants to watch his Witcher loosen and relax, but it’s not enough. Sleep tugs at him, luring him under. Just before he slips off, when his eyes flutter closed and his breath starts to deepen, he hears the soft, constant rhythm of his Witcher’s heartbeat: a silent assurance that they’re together and safe.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x jaskier #geralt of rivia/jaskier #henry cavill #joey batey #yourqueenforayear #agoodgoddamnshot #inikokoru #gifts 2020 #the witcher secret santa 2020

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pastelsandpining · 3 years

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The Greatest Gift (Freebie)

The twelfth and FINAL prompt in 12 Days of Christmas by @zelink-prompts!! Thank you so much for all the support! Happy Holidays!

Prompt List

Words: 2917

Summary: Very fluffy. Link pops the question. Proposal fic. Can’t get any better than that folks

BotW Post Calamity Zelink

Zelink-mas 2020 l Masterlist

There were many words that could describe how it felt to have Zelda back by his side. He could call it wonderful, magical, amazing--just about every word in the book. None could fit better, however, than natural. Natural was how it felt when she’d appeared before him, glowing in a gold far richer than the ores beneath the surface could ever produce. Natural was how it felt when she smiled at him, striking his heart with an arrow of warmth he’d forgotten how to know. Natural was how it felt when he hugged her, holding onto her as if his life depended on it. And natural was how it felt to love her, like he’d done it a thousand times over and would do it a thousand times more.

It felt natural to celebrate every little thing with her, whether it be her new haircut, or a holiday, or an advancement in the reconstruction of Hyrule. It felt natural to follow her back into the heart of the kingdom, where he would spend the rest of his days as her knight attendant because the thought of not being with her made him feel empty. Everything he did with her, even if it meant to just exist within her presence, felt so incredibly familiar and natural, and perhaps that was why they fell into a rhythm so quickly.

Perhaps that was why most nights, Link only fell asleep after Zelda did. He liked to see her curled up underneath the covers, tucked into his arms, with the peaceful expression of a sleeping goddess visible in the silver moonlight. Perhaps that was why he found every reason to accompany her wherever she went, so that he could see the way she lit up and smiled when things were working out. Perhaps that was why he took his job so seriously, even now, simply because he liked to be around her.

Admittedly, it’d be problematic if he didn’t like to be around the very princess he was courting. That would never be an issue though, even in times like these, when she was trying to use him as a test subject for her new, trial-and-error elixirs.

“You know I trust you with my life,” he said, holding her wrists as gently as ever. “But I’m not putting that in my body.”

“I promise you’ll be okay,” she replied with a pout that almost swayed him. But Link stood his ground and shook his head, chuckling softly at her antics.

“You’re ridiculous, Zel.”

“I know what I’m doing, Link. I wouldn’t willingly feed you something that could harm you.”

“Uh huh. And what’s the elixir supposed to do?”

“Well, if all goes according to plan--which it should, it would boost the natural defense of a person against any sort of attack or condition.”

“You’re brilliant, but I’ll still have to pass.”

Zelda huffed, then uncapped the vial and brought it to her lips. Link was quick to snatch it from her hands and cap it again, shaking his head.

“Nope,” he said, “We’re not doing that either.”

“Then how are we supposed to know whether or not it’s effective?” she argued, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’ll find you a volunteer,” he replied, which she knew was code for I’ll be your test subject later, and it was enough to satisfy her into smiling. “Can I make our dinner now?”

“It’s all yours, sir knight,” she answered, handing the slate over and lifting her hands up in defense.

“Thank you, Princess.”

It was far from the first time he called her that, and it was a proper title anyone could use. But Zelda still smiled with a pink on her cheeks, and Link could do nothing but watch her. Watch the way crinkles formed by her eyes when she smiled, and the way her freckles became more prominent in the sun, and the way her golden hair bounced when she moved, and the way she furrowed her eyebrows whenever she was confused.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. She ducked her head and laughed, and he smiled in return.

“So you’ve said, many times,” Zelda replied, giving his arm a gentle shove.

“And I’ll keep saying it until the end of time. You’re divine, ethereal, gor-“

He was fairly certain the kiss was solely to stop him from talking, but he was happy to return it nevertheless.

She tasted sweet, like the berries they’d eaten for a snack earlier in the afternoon, and if sunlight had a taste, he imagined it would also taste like her.

“If you don’t get to cooking, I’ll take the Slate back,” Zelda warned with a poke to his chest.

“Alright, alright,” he replied with a laugh. He truly enjoyed cooking, but not even that could keep his mind off of the girl besides him, who was busy scribbling away in a journal. His thoughts always drifted to her. Her, and his love for her, and just how much they’d survived together.

And without thinking about it—well, it’d been on his mind, but he didn’t think before speaking:

“Would you ever want to get married?”

“Yes,” Zelda replied, too quickly and too casually for him to think she’d really heard him. He looked over to her with furrowed eyebrows, but she was staring right back with wide eyes, like she couldn’t believe it either. It took Link a minute to find his voice.

“Are you serious?” he asked in a voice just barely above a whisper.

“Are you?” she asked.

“Yes,” Link said with a nod, reaching for one of her hands. “Of course I am.”

“I— you do mean us, right? You would want to marry me?”

“Yes. Without hesitation.”

“Is this..?”

Link shook his head quickly.

“No! I mean, no, I just— I kind of want to.. plan something..? I mean, the princess of Hyrule deserves a grand proposal.”

Zelda’s cheeks were as red as a rose. He could imagine he looked very similar, with the way his heart was racing.

“You better not,” she said with a smile.

But he did. He spent the next few weeks planning a perfect proposal. It didn’t have to be a surprise, but he did want it to be special. Zelda was special, in so many different ways. She was so very special to him, and he wanted to convey that, but he was stumped.

Link didn’t want to put her on the spot in front of their friends or a crowd of any sort. He didn’t want to pressure her with grand gestures or gifts, but what else could he do?

He’d written and scratched out so many ideas.

Should he bring her to the Sanctum and make it the place of a happy memory instead of what it had become? Should he take her on vacation to Hateno and ask in the privacy and comfort of his house? Should he be clever about it and slip the ring into a book, or a journal, or on a guardian piece? Should he have a friend help him?

He tried asking said friends on their opinions, but he had pretty limited options. Riju was a child, and she’d take pleasure in sending him straight to a Voe and You class that he did not want to participate in. Yunobo didn’t seem like the type to talk to anyone, much less do something as outgoing as propose. It didn’t feel right to ask Sidon, even if he would give good advice. His best bet was Teba and Kass, or any of the families he’d come to know in Hateno.

Kass had suggested a song, but Link didn’t think he had a musical bone in his body outside of an appreciation for it. It would be a decent last resort, if anything.

So the days came and went, and he remained clueless, but the ring, carefully crafted in Gerudo Desert with diamonds and sapphires and emeralds, stayed in his pockets. Just in case.

“Could you pass the sugar?” asked Zelda from beside him. Hylia’s Day had come around again and three years after their first celebration full of friends, they were spending the day in solitude. He was trying, key word, trying to help her bake a fruit cake. The kitchen staff were hesitant to let them, but he managed to convince them.

Link used it as an excuse to hug her from behind and place the sugar in front of her.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, but turned her head to kiss his cheek anyway.

“Careful not to use too much,” he warned, giving her a gentle squeeze. “It’ll be too sweet.”

“If I can put up with you, then I think I can handle a little ‘too sweet’.”

“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

Zelda snorted and dumped the measured sugar into the bowl. Link hid his grin in her shoulder. He loved the way she laughed, and the way her nose scrunched up when she did.

“There. Now I can stir them all together, right?” she asked.

“Clever girl,” he replied with a kiss into her shoulder. She threw some flour into his hair, and he shook it off all over her shirt.

“Oh, you just wait until this is in the oven.”

“Is that a threat, my princess?”

“Absolutely.”

Though she didn’t need help pouring the cake batter, Link set his hands over hers and did it anyway. It was nothing more than an excuse to touch her, but she clearly didn’t mind.

“See? You’re a professional,” he said as he took the trays and slid them into the oven. She’d burned herself once, years ago, and he never let her touch it since.

“I can give up the crown and turn the castle into a bakery instead,” she replied, leaning against the counter with crossed arms. He shut the oven and set his hands on either side of her, trapping her where she stood.

“We could be Hyrule’s most successful sweet shop. Specialty is fruit cake, made by and for the former princess herself.”

“Maybe we’ll just run a side business.”

“Ah, Princess and army general by day, bakers by night.”

“Exactly.”

Link laughed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Zelda brought her flour covered hands up and stuck them onto his cheeks.

“Why do you insist on starting a food fight with me?” he asked with a sigh, before sticking his hand in flour and dragging a finger down her nose, leaving her with a flour streak of her own.

“You’re cute when you’re covered in flour,” she replied before ducking out from under his arms and darting away from him. When he turned to grab her again, she tossed a handful of flour in his face. “See?”

“Princess of Hyrule, Daughter of Hylia, spends her day assaulting her escort with flour,” he said with a huff, then turned back to the counter to scoop up some flour of his own.

“Are you seriously pouting over it?” she asked. Now that she’d moved closer, he spun around and dropped the handful onto her head.

“You know me better than that,” he replied with a grin. Zelda let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a scream, and Link took the opportunity to make a mad dash across the kitchen and out of her reach.

Maybe they should’ve cleaned up the ingredients when they were done, because Zelda grabbed an egg and chucked it in his general direction. He ducked, then darted to one side of the table. She took the other and mirrored every move he made with a grin of her own.

“Your aim is getting better,” he teased, nodding towards the splatter of egg on the wall. “But I will again offer training-“

“If you hadn’t ducked, it would’ve hit you!” she defended.

“A lovely Hylia’s Day gift that would’ve been. Egged by my princess.”

“I think it’s fitting!”

“I got you an empty kitchen and a day to try whatever you want, and you egg me!”

“Because you’re an egghead!”

“Unbelievable. She’s the Daughter of Wisdom and the best she can come up with is egghead.”

Zelda sputtered a response, then made a break for him. Instead of running in the opposite direction, like any sensible person, Link jumped clean over the table and waved with a smile.

“Ugh! Show off.”

“I could teach you,” he offered.

“I’m perfectly capable of jumping over a table on my own!”

“Prove it.”

Zelda glared at him, but it was filled with a playful love that made it hard to stop smiling. She pulled herself up onto the table with all the grace of a goddess blood princess, then scooted across it to meet him.

“Very impressive,” he teased, grabbing her by the waist to pull her close. She only rolled her eyes and stuck her fingers into his hair, effectively spreading more flour.

“High praise coming from you,” she said. Link only hummed and tilted his head to meet her in a quick kiss.

“Come on, let’s clean up a bit,” he replied as he scooped her up off of the table in a bridal hold, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Yeah, we probably should.” But she’d tilted her head up and was pressing kisses along his neck.

“Are you trying to distract me?” he asked, glancing towards her with a lifted eyebrow.

“Now why would I do that?”

The warmth of her breath tickled his neck and, well, it was certainly working. He almost wanted to forget about cleaning their mess and instead give his full attention to Zelda, but his foot hit a pile of flour on the floor.

The wind was knocked out of him immediately upon impact with the floor, but no harm had come to Zelda, and that’s what mattered. He tried to laugh through the pain.

“Are you okay?!” she asked as she scrambled off of him and helped him sit up. He nodded, but she checked him over anyway. Only when he could breathe again did she relax, then burst into a fit of giggles. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’m being bullied by the love of my life,” Link said with a hint of exasperation as he dropped onto his back. Zelda leaned over him with a smile as soft as a cloud.

“Am I really?” she asked, running her fingers through his hair again.

“Of course,” he replied with a smile, lifting a hand to rest on her cheek. “You’re my sunshine.”

Zelda scoffed and shook her head, but Link took her free hand and pressed a kiss to her fingertips. Even covered in flour, she was absolutely divine. And she looked so happy that his heart could burst. He decided there was no moment he loved her more than when she was smiling at him, with a warmth in her eyes and a sweetness in her smile that was reserved only for him. He loved her most when she was happy. He couldn’t keep the smile from his face and the words from his mouth.

“I love you,” he said as he sat up, cupping her face with both hands. “So much. You are everything to me and I want to do all I can to make you happy, for the rest of our lives.”

“Link,” she replied, her voice choked full of emotion.

“I want to marry you, Zelda.”

Even though they’d had this discussion before, there were tears building in her eyes. She looked like she didn’t know what to say, so Link took the opportunity to dig into his pocket and pull out the velvet box. And right there, on the floor of the castle kitchen, covered in flour, Link opened the lid and revealed the ring. Zelda burst into tears and, goddesses, when she nodded, he let out a watery laugh. She tackled him backwards, burying her face in his shoulder, and he hugged her close.

“I love you,” Zelda said, and repeated it probably a hundred times over.

“I love you,” he answered, pressing a kiss to her head.

“Can we have fruitcake at our wedding?” she asked in a wobbly voice. Link laughed again and if he could hold her closer, he would’ve.

“We can have whatever you want.”

And a few hours later, when the future queen and Hyrule’s army general stepped out of the (now clean) kitchen covered in flour, hand in hand and glowing with a happiness that suggested they’d seen Hylia herself, no one questioned it. But their engagement was no secret, because the ring on their princess’s finger had the castle staff whispering excitedly to one another mere minutes after the couple was gone.

That very night, as Link watched Zelda fall asleep in his arms, he could swear he felt King Rhoam smiling down on them, and he thought he could hear Urbosa’s laughter echoing on the wind.

They would celebrate tomorrow, he decided. For now, he would be grateful for how their solitary Hylia’s Day had gone.

He must’ve been the luckiest man in the entire world.

“I’ll take care of her,” Link whispered into the night air, a quiet promise to all those who cared about her. She didn’t need his protection, but goddesses, she’s all he could’ve ever wanted.

To have the pleasure of falling in love with her over and over again, perhaps that was the greatest gift of all.

#zelink #botw zelink #post calamity zelink #zelink prompts #christmas prompts #zelink proposal #proposal fic #link in love is my favorite thing to write #in case you couldn't tell

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akampana · 3 years

Note

16 cutoria but in a vampire/werewolf au?

ANON LOOK WHAT YOU DID ITS 6716 WORDS LONG/lh

16 “I didn’t want to tell you like this, but I have no choice.” Werewolf AU Cú Chulainn x Arturia Pendragon

________

“You’ve stalled for too long, brat.”

The she-wolf dropped into the clearing without a sound, her experienced paws padding across the forest floor as lightly as the beating of butterfly wings. Scáthach was a creature of grace, even as a large canine. Her hunts were nothing short of elegant either, carried out quiet enough such as not to disturb the night. It was no wonder at all that she was once the Alpha of the pack.

The new Alpha was not so. Though the runs he was tasked to lead were mostly just as productive, he was rough and arrogant, hunting larger prey while scorning rabbits and smaller faunus. While the pups enjoyed being handed larger game whenever he came to the den, his chosen prey’s strangled cries always alerted nearby animals to go running. In winter, such conduct put the whole pack in danger of going hungry.

Despite that, it was only Scáthach who ever told him off, for there was no one else quite as strong as the large grey beast that was bestowed the honor of being their leader.

“You know what snow does to the rival packs, Cú,” hummed the wiser wolf as she circled the hubristic pup. She was never in favor of putting him in the lead just yet, but she had served her purpose, teaching him all that she knew. She didn’t doubt he had the prowess. He just lacked the responsibility.

“They have been seen closing in on our territory, now that prey runs scarce. You’ve been lucky, bringing in as much elk as you have thus far. But how will you maintain that while defending the territory, hm? Pull a miracle and find some loose sheep like you did last winter?”

Her pup-turned-leader snorted, shaking his snout as he stalked away. “This another attempt at getting me a mate, old hag?”

The she-wolf bared her teeth at the new alpha, batting his snout with her paw. “A mate shows power and longevity, you know this. Fionn may not have been the best father to you, but he brought you brothers and he brought you safety.”

“I ain’t taking Medb,” Cú snarled back, his fur standing on end at the thought. “So shove it. I’m heading out. Tell Ferdíad I can’t make it to game night.”

Without another word, the alpha wolf bounded off into the trees faster than the human eye could follow. He leapt past hills, his paws crunching snow beneath him, careless of the little prey that scuttled about. They were done with today’s hunt. Even Ferdíad's litter could go to sleep completely satisfied.

The wolf dodged through the thick vegetation mile after mile, until the paths he marked out for the younger wolves were no longer in sight. Although he doubted the den mother would approve of him going so far out into their territory alone, he was the alpha now. His decisions would no longer be questioned.

Finally, he came to a cave: an old abandoned bear den, that lesser beings avoided though its owner no longer lived there. His sharp ruby eyes darted to his surroundings, making sure he wasn’t followed. Then, he entered the den, as he had done several times before, and came out the cave’s other end.

Only Diarmuid knew about his hideout, and he’d like to keep it that way. As long as the beta kept this little secret within the pack territory, Cú could keep her safe.

The large canine made his way past a few evergreen trees ‘til the humble farm came into view. Sure enough, there she was in the middle of the fenced off enclosure, sitting amongst her sheep while the lambs fed on the last of the grass.

Here was Scáthach’s little “miracle”: a shepherd that had seen Cú’s starving figure at the edge of her farm last winter and purposely left her fence gate open. To this day, Cú still did not know why she did it, but her generosity got his entire pack through the harsh season.

In return, he’d secretly kept foxes and wild wolves off her farm, making sure the lesser beings knew better than to encroach on his personal territory.

At least, that’s what he did as a wolf.

Cú returned to his little cave, snarling as his fur receded into his skin. The alpha curled onto the ground, biting his own paw to stifle his groans as the bones within him shrank and contorted into a lesser form. His snout receded into a straight nose, his fangs into passably human sharp teeth. Without his night vision, Cú reached blindly for the small duffel bag tucked into a small hollow and pulled out an artificial coat and a pair of trousers.

What snuck out of the enclosure was no longer a grey apex predator, but a tall, muscled man with flowing dark hair: an ordinary hunter, no more special than the ones that frequented the northern town.

The bell chimed as he walked through the entrance, signalling the blonde shop owner of his arrival. Cú tried not to smile too widely as Arturia Pendragon popped her head through the staff door, but he knew that was a futile effort.

“Hey, shortie.”

“Good evening, Cú,” replied the woman, snorting at his favorite nickname for her as he hung his coat on the rack. “I have your usual ready...though I still cannot understand why you prefer coming here rather than the supermarket. You know Arthur takes our supply every Monday. He's down there with Arash the rest of the week. Isn’t that a little closer to home?”

Right. She still thought he lived in town. It was easier than saying he lived across the woods in a village even more secluded then hers which would be impossible to get to from here without a two hour drive unless you were a wolf that could cross the forest terrain in a fraction of time, so he didn’t correct her.

The Irishman shrugged and sank into the rug before the fireplace. “Mutton’s better fresh. 'Sides, the grocers don't stock your pies. Ya really should sell 'em, Arturia, I'm tellin' ya.”

The woman scoffed, lightly nudging her friend to the side with her foot. As he scooched over, she set down a food tray between them: one with two glasses of whiskey and two slices of pie.

"Flatterer," she accused, handing the bigger slice to Cú anyway. He wolfed it down in seconds.

The first time he showed up at her door went much the same way, just a lot more awkward.

It was the day after his wolf came home with her sheep. He'd already knocked on her door to thank her before realizing how stupid that idea was. What was he meant to say?

Hey, uh, thanks for letting me hunt your sheep to feed my pack. My best friend's wife just popped a litter of hungry babies, hehe gotta feed them young am I right? Oh, by the way, I'm the wolf from yesterday, nice to meet you—Yep. No. not gonna work. This was a terrible idea. Stupid, really. He was stupid. Why did he even come here again?

Then she swung open the door, freezing the man in place with his mouth half open.

"Can I help you?" She asked, but before he could even reply, he was greeted by snow. Everywhere. All at once. Down his spine and into his underwear.

Now, he wasn't as susceptible to the cold as the common human, but she did not know that. Before he could even get a word out, he was sitting in front of the fire to dry while she ran to get him something warm to drink.

A change into Arthur's clothes and some hot coffee later, he was being served pie at the dining table to make up for his unexpected snow shower.

"Again, I sincerely apologize for that. My brother and I haven't had the chance to fix the porch roof. We just moved to this old farm last month,” rambled the short Welsh woman as she handed him a hot towel.

After some hesitation and observation on the stranger’s way of dress, she asked, “Did...did you come here for lamb?"

Little did she know, she'd just handed Cú the perfect excuse. Plus, he now knew exactly how to show his gratitude.

"If I fix up yer roof would ya give me a discount?"

Over the next week, Cú would come to the Pendragon residence to make repairs. It wasn’t just the roof that needed patching up.

It turns out she and her brother were alone in the world, cheated out of their inheritance and everything else they owned by their older sister. All that was left to them was this old farm and cottage, which neither had visited since they were kids. Their half-sibling even threw in three truckloads of animals as a joke, since she had all the riches in the world to spend and a special budget for humiliating the two green-eyed blondes.

Still, the twins were educated. Brilliant, even. And though they were clumsy when it came to most household repairs, their experience tending equine stables for their late father translated rather well to animal husbandry. In a month, they had made enough to pay the bills and get them a secondhand laptop and working Wi-fi. The next month saw Arturia getting her own computer.

Half a year down the line, Cú was sure that the Pendragon siblings would move out, but here they stayed, still maintaining their humble farm though it was no longer their only form of income. Neither of them needed the burden of moving back to London, with its ridiculously high cost of living and impossible rent rates. They’d grown fond of the land they actually owned and its peace.

That suited Cú just fine, because he had grown fond of Arturia.

Cú still visited, even after all the repairs had finished. His nephews were always hungry, and while the mutton did not satisfy the little pups’ bloodlust as much as wild game, it made up for the deficit while the children were in human form. But even Arthur knew his bi-monthly purchases were just an excuse.

He was there for the coffees, for the brief moments his fingers would brush hers. He was there for the whiskey, the cheap bottles they shared before the fireplace while she told him everything she could about the city. He was there to make fun of her posh way of speaking, to pull the ribbon from her hair, to bring her fruits and berries and furs and let her read him books.

He was there for her.

Scáthach’s training only increased in intensity as the months passed, and between his day job and being the new alpha, Cú had little time left for himself. But what he could spare, he spent with his favorite person, even if it was just watching her tend her sheep from a distance while he kept foxes out of her territory.

Cú tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, happy to see she didn’t even flinch, but plagued by the thought of his wolf. He was the pack alpha now, and that meant a shitload of other responsibilities that would keep him from her for as long as he held that title.

“That’s all yer charging me, shortie? Nah, can’t be,” Cú resisted, pushing a few more bills across the table. “That’s way too cheap, even if yer sweet on me.”

Pink-faced, Arturia slid the packed meats back across the counter, reached behind her, and procured a carefully wrapped circular dish which she placed in a bag.

“Take it,” she insisted, hooking the bag onto his fingers. “We’ve been ridiculously lucky to not get any wolves and foxes considering how much higher into the mountains we live compared to the rest of the town. There is more than enough left for Arthur and I.”

Cú peeked into the extra bag, catching a glimpse of a familiar crust. God, she was far too kind. He’d reject the offer, but he’d always wanted to bring some shepherd’s pie back to the pack. This was his chance.

“Ya sure?”

“Absolutely,” she confirmed, holding open the front door as Cú made his exit. “This is the least I could do for you, Cú. You have helped make us feel home in this far-off place. I would even say that you are family but—”

“Go out with me,” the werewolf interrupted, shoving all his reservations into his internal dumpster. He didn’t know how yet, but he was gonna make this work. “Come on, I know ya like me, shortie.”

Tiptoeing, Arturia snaked a hand into his hair and pulled him down to her level, planting a small kiss on his cheekbone.

“It is...a little more than ‘like’, I believe,” the woman admitted bashfully, trying to mask her embarrassment by awkwardly sneaking back behind the door. “...Eight tomorrow?”

Cú bit his lip, glad to hear confirmation on what he already knew. She loved him back. She loved him back. God, he better not be looking like a child just handed some candy.

“Nah, this morning weekend. This weekend morning. The morning of this weekend,” he fumbled, rewarded with a short chuckle from her end. “I wanna have a whole day with ya for once, shortie. I’ll make it worth yer time.”

There was a spring in his step as the alpha bounded across the forest that night, carrying the bags carefully with the handles between his teeth.

If only he weren’t so distracted. Then he’d have noticed the salivating spy that watched him leave the abandoned bear den with a fresh pack of meat.

Snow fell heavily across the landscape on Tuesday evening, covering the last of autumn’s colors in a blanket of pure white. After dinner time was always idle for Cú, so he spent it sharing Arturia’s gift with the kids and spinning his phone in his fingers.

Instinct told him a storm was coming, and though it would probably have passed by Saturday, Cú wondered if he should try and reschedule his anticipated date. He wasn’t too worried about Arturia, since Arthur said he’d be coming back up to the cottage tonight, so at least she wouldn’t be alone all through it. Plus, the twins really did have a lot of food in stock. In comparison, he and his pack were the ones less prepared.

His sharp ears perked up as a familiar presence entered the grounds. The alpha’s brow knitted, as the slight smell of blood entered the air, but if the little ones weren’t alarmed, it must not have been such a serious wound.

Diarmuid stepped into the kitchen, still pulling on a wool jacket and shaking the snow off of his dark hair.

“Evening, Alpha,” the handsome man said softly, taking notice of the pie that sat in front of the pups.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, just call me Cú. Yer no less my little bro now than ya were before, Diar,” he corrected, sliding a plate his way. “Try that.”

The amber-eyed man approached the meal like a cat did water: hesitantly and suspiciously. Thankfully, as soon as he had a taste he had about the same reaction as Ferdiad’s kids did. Which was...basically nearly crying tears of joy.

“Where did you say you got this?” Diarmuid asked, snatching up another helping as Cú smirked. He’d not give the answer up that easily.

The alpha’s red eyes landed on his brother’s shoulder, finding a clumsy bandage just sticking out the collar. At once, he herded the beta into a different room, far enough from the pups that they couldn’t hear.

“The hell happened to ya?” Cú demanded, pulling the shirt collar to the side to better gauge the severity of the wound.

“It’s a warning, Sétanta” Scáthach answered for her son, entering the log cabin from the back door. “The rival packs were closing in on the border. I doubt their side of the mountain is as scarce as they make it out to be and yet they have the gall to encroach on ours.”

“Our territory’s guarded. That’s why we moved Fergus, ain’t it? To cover all bases. Den in the center with the pups, Me and Diar in the North, and dad in the South. Fergus’s gang to the west, and we got the town in the east and all wolves know not to mess with the towns,” Cú shot back, unconcerned.

Red eyes much alike to Cú’s observed him with kind care, seeing the wolf pup and alpha both. The new leader was strong, but he was arrogant. In a way, he was a perfect successor, for she knew he could kill her should the need arise. However, too loose he was with laws; too untethered by the rules that kept their kind safe.

“It would be a show of strength to take a mate. To let all know that our new Alpha has his right hand—”

Cú waved his arms dismissively. “The hands I do have are more than enough to drive them off. Ya know that. Now, are we stocking up for the pups or what? The storm ain’t gonna delay, I can smell it.”

22:24 Read

Cú paced the main den like a dog kept in an enclosure for far too long, tossing his half-charged phone while he awaited her message.

Four days. It had been four days since the blizzard started, piling snow on top of snow day after day as if it was trying to beat some arctic record. The log cabin’s ground floor was completely sealed in. They’d been on generator for the last four hours, listening to the weatherman on the radio as he promised for the third time that tonight the storm would finally pass.

Diarmuid was curling up with his nephews, keeping them warm in wolf form as they slept. Cú thanked every god he knew that they went on a hunt before the blizzard hit, else the kids went hungry. He and Diarmuid hadn’t planned to stay at their brother’s but the weather hardly gave them a choice. Their cottage was a lot further off.

22:24 Read

Cracks appeared on the glass as Cú glared into his mobile’s screen, hoping for some sort of change. But no. There sat the same exchange from an hour ago, the same bloody text just very loudly broadcasting to him the worst news of today.

One of our generators broke down. I need to move the power to the barn.

For real? Are you okay, shortie?

Arturia?

Hey, ya can’t just leave me hangin like that.

Arturia?

22:24 Read

“Sétanta, would you just put the bloody phone down?!” Ferdiad screeched, snatching the device right out of the alpha’s hands. “I said we were gonna talk, how the hell are we supposed to talk when yer not even givin’ me the bloody time of day!”

The low growl that escaped through the alpha’s bared teeth shook the cabin like an earthquake.

“What,” Cú barked, grabbing his precious device back while his brother stood his ground. “If this is just another lecture about how Scáthach was right, I should have just fucked with Medb and get it over with, I ain’t hearing another fucking word.”

22:24 Read

“No, you piece of—” Ferdiad inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring with frustration. The older man grabbed his brother by the shoulders, shaking him like a rattle. “Cú. Listen to me.”

As Diarmuid shushed them both, Ferdiad pointed outside, to where nothing could be seen but heavy white ice.

“Do you seriously think Scáthach wants you to mate that pink-haired priss? ‘Course not. She just needs ya to set down roots,” the delta wolf explained, looking over the alpha’s shoulder to his three sons. “You are the strongest of us, Cú, but nothing ties ya to this territory. For all the outsiders know you could be planning to move and make your own pack.”

The younger of them grimaced as Diarmuid nodded from his perch with the pups.

“I ain’t going nowhere,” the new alpha emphasized, shrugging out of his brother’s touch.

“Well they don’t know that! What if this whole time, the only reason they haven’t advanced is cause we’ve been keeping close watch on our borders, hm? Hell, you and Diar have basically been here the entire fucking week, they probably think you’ve bloody moved on. Wouldn’t surprise me in the least if they took advantage of this stupid storm to move into our territory, now that you’re not guarding the north!” Ferdiad argued, baring his fangs at his superior.

22:24 Read.

Cú’s heart stopped, the poor phone in his hands near crunching in his grip. No. The Pendragons didn’t live too far from the town. It was fine. She was fine. Just snowed in.

No werewolf was crazy enough to go near town in their canine form, not even the rival packs. There was too much risk of being found out. Simply no way.

Unless...

22:24 Read.

Unless they didn’t have any food in store. Unless they were looking for some easy pickings. Maybe a couple of sheep that wouldn’t be missed, stolen from a farm just a little out of range of the nearby village.

A farm with a single, vulnerable caretaker, forced to share a heater with her flock.

22:24 Read.

Cú frantically pressed the call button and put the phone to his ear, shushing Ferdiad before the delta could return to making his arguments. Three rings later and the line cut. He tried again, heart dropping like deadweight when it gave the same result.

His footsteps became panicked as he walked round in circles, scrolling upward to a contact that was here only for emergencies.

“Arthur,” Cú said through the phone, hearing the familiar voice of his blonde friend coming through the line. “‘S Arturia there with ya?”

Suddenly a quiet bang resounded throughout the room. A gunshot, deafened by distance and snow. Any false sense of security Cú still had shattered with the sound.

“The hell?” Ferdiad exclaimed, rushing towards his children to comfort them. “There can’t be any humans crazy enough to hunt in that storm.”

The alpha was no longer around to hear him.

Arturia never held any hate for her half-sister. Not even when she banned her and her twin to Ireland with nothing left to their name. Despite everything, Arturia thought her punishment was not too cruel, for she still had Arthur. She still had a degree under her belt, and in a way, Morgan had cast her far away from a destiny she didn’t even want to fulfil. Arthur never wanted to take over the mining company and neither did she.

The first few weeks were difficult, but they learned to live on their own. They made a humble world for themselves that wasn’t tied to their prestigious last name. It was simple. But it was good.

She’d admit it got a little lonely with just the two of them around, but...then there was Cú. Cú, who helped them fix up the house, who came bringing drinks or food they could all share by the fire. Cú, who helped them get set up at the market, who got them their regular buyers and still made himself a frequent customer. Cú, who made up excuses just to see her, who scorned the couch to lie down on her lap while she read.

The cabin was always a little warmer when he was around. It was home when he was around.

She should have asked him out sooner.

The wolves came crashing through the windows, raining thick glass all over her flock. There were seven of them. All massive beasts with fur of brown and grey, glowing eyes and bared fangs. In their view, she may as well have been just another sheep, helpless in the face of the predator.

The air was a cacophony of distressed bleating, panicked hooves and growls as the sheep tried their best to escape their fate. Amidst it were her own hoarse screams as a brown beast sank its fangs into her arms, her frantic kicks to its belly doing nothing to throw the large beast off. Desperate green eyes searched the floor for her gun, which sat useless under her first attacker, a chestnut wolf that had ignored smaller prey and gone straight for her.

Her own blood dripped down onto her cheeks as the wolf above her crushed her limbs between its teeth. Arturia’s eyes prickled with tears as fresh cries escaped her lips, grieving not from the pain but for all she was going to lose. So soon, she had to say goodbye to her new life, her brother, to any chance she ever had at a happy ending.

The woman felt her predator’s claw stomp onto her throat, stifling her screams as its teeth dug into her shoulder. Salt fell freely from her eyes as the beast tore through the muscle. Was this how she was going to die? Cold and alone amongst the carcasses of her flock? Was this how Arthur would find her when the blizzard did subside, torn to pieces and left scattered all over the barn floor?

Arturia shut her eyes, unwilling to let her last sight be that of her killer. Instead, she thought of Arthur, hoping someone would be there for him through it all. She thought of Cú, she thought of the lovely blue dress she was supposed to wear when she finally went out with him. She’d been waiting for the day to finally wear it. She knew he loved the color blue.

As her lungs began to burn for air, her final thought was a prayer to a God she didn’t know she still believed in. If she were to die today, then let it be the last pain her two favorite boys would ever experience—

Suddenly, frigid oxygen entered her lungs as her attacker was tackled off of her, leaving Arturia hacking and coughing as she gasped for breath. She sat up dizzily, gripping her injured shoulder with bleeding arms as she tried to get her bearings.

The pack had abandoned the few sheep that were left, hounding instead the new arrival: a wolf easily larger than her from head to tail, with grey fur that glistened in the little light. Its glowing red eyes seemed aflame with rage as it sank its teeth into her attacker’s throat and snapped its neck like a toothpick, showering all the surrounding dogs with their leader’s blood. Even then, the grey wolf did not stop, jumping at the next canine and carrying out its execution.

The woman limped to the exit as fast as she could, bracing herself against the biting cold as she made her way back to the cabin. Behind her, the barking continued as wolf fought against wolf, the red-eyed one beating off the remaining four while the frightened sheep ran wild with fear.

Arturia slammed the cabin door closed behind her, bolting every lock there was with frostbitten fingers before sneaking a glance back into the barn through the window. There was barely anything to make out amidst the pouring snow and the painful throbbing in her head, but all she knew was that somehow...the newcomer was winning.

She didn’t know what kind of divine intervention must have occurred for that wolf to come save her, but...all it did was buy her a little time. Even if she was safe from predators in the cabin, the freezing cold would take her before morning. Maybe she could start a fire, but she’d lost so much blood, she could barely even stand.

After much struggle to ignite the tinder, the injured woman slumped onto the rug before the fireplace, taking comfort in the hearth’s warmth as the blizzard raged on outside.

A loud crash brought her attention behind her, to where stood the red eyed wolf, blood staining the grey fur on his shoulder. Two emotions gripped her heart at the same time: fear and recognition. As the beast stalked its way toward her, she finally understood why he looked so familiar.

It was the young wolf from last year, the one who sat right outside her fence, neither coming in to attack her flock, nor fleeing at the sight of her. She’d always wondered what became of him after he ran off with a couple of her sheep. He had a lot more weight on him compared to back then, enough that she knew it was hopeless to try fighting him off. If he’d somehow defeated the entire pack in the barn, an injured human like herself didn’t stand a chance.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” she croaked, her shattered vocal chords barely able to keep up. “Please just make it quick.”

Almost as if he could understand her, the wolf whimpered and flattened his ears against his head, lowering himself as he approached.

For the second time that night, Arturia shut her eyes as the wolf caged her broken, shivering figure to the floor. She stiffened, anticipating another bite as he brought his head closer.

Then she felt a warm tongue lick her cheek.

Arturia’s eyes snapped open in surprise, locking with increasingly familiar ruby irises. The wolf lay its head on her chest, gently resting on top of her as it whimpered. Suddenly, it began to whine, jerking back and forth as its body contorted itself into a different shape. One that was smaller, one that hadn’t a silver coat of fur, one that no longer crushed her underneath its weight.

Soon it wasn’t a wolf at all that Arturia held in her arms, but a man. Large hands that she recognized traveled up to her cheeks, his thumbs stroking away her tears. Her heart warred with itself, overtaken by pain, relief, fear, security. But all of that could wait.

Cú leaned forward til he was kissing her, molding his mouth into hers til he had her lips memorized.

“Cú,” Arturia whispered, when they separated to breathe, her injured arms wearily looping around his neck. “You’re…”

“Sorry,” The man shushed her with another deep kiss, enveloping her shivering figure into his embrace. “I didn’t wanna tell you like this, but I have no choice. I’m—”

“The wolf from last winter,” she interrupted, her mind struggling to put together the pieces. “The…wolf who came to save me. You were here with me this whole tim—mmh”

The man’s fingers snaked behind her head, supporting her as tasted her mouth once more.

“Ya saved me first.”

There was a desperation in the way that he moved, the way he touched her cold skin. He didn’t want it to be like this. He wished their first kiss would have been somewhere warm. He wanted to take her out to the lake, hold her hand…not drag her into his world of hunt-or-be-hunted.

Cú pressed his lips to her neck, regretting the multitude of wounds she sustained there. If only he were here earlier. If only he were faster. This would never have happened if wasn’t so damn careless.

The werewolf pulled down her scarf and jacket, exposing the deep wounds the rival pack leader had left at the junction of her shoulder and all over her arms.

They bit her.

Cú pursed his lips, placing a few more kisses to her temple. He hoped it would be enough. He hoped she would understand his feelings for her. He hoped she would forgive him.

“Let’s get ya patched up, shortie, okay?”

Cú borrowed some of Arthur’s clothes for the second time, leaving her momentarily to redirect the power back to the cottage instead of the barn. There were nothing but carcasses to warm over there now. After that, he no longer left her side, nursing her wounds the best that he could and keeping her close to share his body heat.

“You’re gonna turn,” Cú said seriously, hugging the one person he loved more than anything to his chest. Werewolf saliva was powerful, and so their kind never endeavored to sink their teeth into humans unless they were sure to kill the target or intentionally make them part of their pack.

“How soon?” Arturia answered back, turning to look up at her saviour. All the fear in her eyes had disappeared, replaced with melancholy and trust. Of course she was upset. Creatures of his world had just gone and stolen her new life away.

“The next full moon,” Cú answered regretfully, “Tomorrow night.”

Cú brushed her bangs out of her face, letting his ruby eyes clash with her emeralds. “Ya scared?”

The man didn’t even know why he was asking. But what were you supposed to say to someone who was just dragged into a hidden world she knew nothing about? How was he supposed to tell her she’d be riddled with bloodlust for the rest of her life, that she’d crave the hunt, that she’d yearn for the night? How was he supposed to tell her she had to give up the one family she had left to keep him away from the life of a hunter?

“Should I be?” Arturia answered, deceptively calm. No doubt, she was thinking of the heavy price she had to pay for surviving.

Cú knew Scáthach was coming. He could feel it. As soon as this bloody storm let up, the she-wolf would put her nose to the air, track him down to this cottage, and put down the rival pack’s unintentional new member before she even had the chance to morph.

Not if he could help it.

“Ya said l was like family to you, Arturia, did ya mean it?” he asked, his heart racing like crazy. His favorite person nodded into his chest, fiddling with his fingers and palm.

“Then...d’ya wanna be that to me, forever though?” he stuttered out, suddenly losing all manner of confidence.

Arturia got up to face him. “How do you mean?”

“Damn yer really gonna let me get into the specifics, huh? Right,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head despite himself. “Look, for us, there’s just one. One mate, for the rest of our lives. You just feel this...bond with them, ya know? Strong enough ya can’t bear to be without them. If ya let me, I want you to be that for me."

"Cú, are you asking me to wed you?" she asked back, confusion settling in the crease between her brows. "But we haven't even gone out yet—"

"Ya were gonna marry me eventually," he shot back, flicking the hair outta her face. "I'm quite the husband material, dontcha think? I bring ya food, I eat your pie—my family likes them by the way—I'm handsome as fuck, not ta mention, charming, what’s the harm in speeding things up a lil’?"

The werewolf grinned at her, trying to cover up how bloody nervous he actually felt.

“And also my pack won’t kill ya. Cause you know, technically ya belong to the rival pack, because they’re the ones that bit ya. But also yer all that’s left in that pack, after tonight and…” he paused, cupping her face with his hands, “I'll still court you, 'Turia. I want to. I'll give ya a good life. Swear.”

Arturia’s lips quirked upward for a second, knowing how crazy adamant Cú could be with following promises.

"Alright,” she confirmed, accepting his kiss. “I just...I worry about Arthur."

"So you finally show up, hm? Disappear for a while, why don't you? Doesn't matter whether or not the rival pack comes to—"

Scáthach inhaled, sniffing her grey wolf pup as she circled him. Something had changed about her son, she could feel it.

"There is no rival pack," Cú answered, grinning like a madman. “Only two new additions to ours.”

"What?"

“Last winter, it stormed just like this, didn’t it? No game, not even the smallest of hares. We were considering crossing over to the other side of the mountain, yeah?” Cú asked back, eagerly goading out the she-wolf’s response. Scáthach stared at him intensely, her red eyes glowing in the light of the full moon.

“You came back with sheep—”

The grey wolf nodded its head in a near-human fashion.”They were gifts. From them.”

Cú yipped, calling for the two concealed wolves to come into the den.

One was large and long, with fur as black as the bark of trees. He came out of the woods like a moving shadow, paws of coal shuffling through the snow. Even Scáthach, who was a midnight color herself, thought she was looking straight into a beautiful void.

The second wolf was smaller. She had a pelt of pure shining white, purer even than fresh snowfall. If not for the black nose that nuzzled into their alpha as she came close, she would be completely missable in their landscape of ice.Though of shorter stature, she strode like a king. Scáthach hadn’t a doubt that if this newcomer were born a wolf, she’d be an alpha herself without question.

The two newcomers stared at the she-wolf with matching emerald eyes, each set of orbs sparkling with the colors of the aurora. Siblings. Strong ones. But any wolf could tell these two were not born with beast’s blood like the rest of them, their footsteps were too unnatural. Too clumsy. They were made beasts, and by their scent it had been the doing of the rival pack.

As her son pressed his snout to the white wolf’s nose, several things finally clicked into place. Cú had gone and done what she’d been pestering him to do for the last few months and had eliminated the pack that had been encroaching on their territory in one fell swoop.

Cú had chosen his mate: a human convert who’d inherited their rivals’ land the day she was bitten. A human who they just so happened to owe a great debt for getting them through last year’s winter.

As Cú’s beastly eyes stared her down, Scáthach had to admit... her bratty pup finally had her at a total loss. She couldn’t be mad about anything, couldn’t even nitpick at the tiny size of his chosen queen or her tar-coat brother. Gosh, Fionn was gonna get a lotta kicks outta this.

“Names,” the she-wolf demanded, circling the twins while Cú gave her a shit-eating grin. Then, she turned, looking back just once to signal for them to follow.

Side by side, the new wolves and the alpha made their way into the central den. Arthur was immediately swarmed by Cú’s brothers. Arturia, by Ferdiad’s pups.

Later, when all had settled back into human skin and a fresh change of clothes, Cú looked about his pack. Fergus and Medb had come to visit, with all sorts of food in tow. Diarmuid excitedly showed Arthur around the wolf den while Fionn and Scathach kept to their own corner. Ferdiad and his litter sat right in front of the brick oven, eagerly awaiting the shepherd’s pie the twins had prepared.

The alpha leaned down, resting his cheek atop Arturia’s blonde head.

“We never did get to go on that date,” she whispered lightheartedly, leaning her head onto his chest. “I even had a dress prepared.”

“Mmmmm that so?” Cú shot back, grinning, “I just think since we are “mated” we really ought to get to mating if ya know what I—”

Arturia’s palm snapped onto his lips before he could complete the thought. Suddenly, they were wrestling each other to the floor, the older wolf chuckling like a madman all the while.

“Kidding—ooofghmhm--kidding, Arturia, I’m kidding, jeez,” he managed to get out, placating his blushing mate as he grabbed onto her hands. The Welsh woman panted, from her seat atop him, her green eyes looking everywhere else but into his red orbs.

“Eight tomorrow?” Arturia asked, though she knew full well Cú was coming home with her that day.

Not even caring about the teasing whoops resounding through the wolf den, Cú pulled his mate down for another hug.

“Yeah. I’d like that, shortie.”

#tysm for the ask!#:>#akampana asks #love confession prompts #whew that was a long one #hope you liked it anon #might remake this into a fic on ao3 soon #cutoria #cuturia #arturia pendragon #cu chulainn #artoria pendragon #cu #arturia #artoria #fate #fanfic

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aporcelainphantom · 2 years

Text

Indulgence

Part Six

I’m going to keep it real with y'all, this is an absolute self insert. I only changed the name because it felt cursed whenever I put in my own name. Anyways

Diluc Ragnvindr x f!OC

As with my other fics, I will mark now that it is NSFW, but the content will be marked by post.

This is probably going to end up being very long. The worms in my head have already told me this.

CW: None

Part One, Two, Three, Four, Five

Soft light filtered in as Ophelia opened her eyes, her surroundings feeling off. She fluttered her eyes as she tried to process, the feeling of silk on her skin blissful as she registered her opulent surroundings. The room was pleasantly warm, red, black, and gold adorning everything. She sat up, rubbing her eyes as she tried to remember where she was, her body aching as she moved, a groan escaping her.

Diluc popped up, having fallen asleep nearby in an armchair next to the fireplace. His hair fell over his shoulders, freed from the usual ponytail. He wore only a black button down and slacks, the first few buttons undone, his toned chest peaking out.

“Oh thank goodness, you’re awake” he exclaimed, rushing to her side.

Jumping slightly at his seemingly sudden appearance, Ophelia began to recall what had happened, though most of the details remained blurry.

“Yes, I’m alright I think. Just, sore and a bit dazed” she said quietly, her face heating as she looked down, realizing she was in what appeared to be one of his shirts.

“I’ll let the staff know so they can bring you some food. Don’t worry, the maids took care of changing you, and your clothing should be ready by now. I only handled removing your outer clothes if you remember any of that” he explained, placing the back of his hand to her forehead.

She chewed on her tongue softly watching him and hoping he couldn’t tell how her heart fluttered.

“Please remain right here, I don’t want you trying to stand when you’re alone. Just be patient” he nearly begged before leaving the room.

Ophelia placed her head into her hands, groaning loudly as embarrassment took her over. She couldn’t believe this had happened. Usually she was made it back just fine from Dragonspine, and the one time she fell victim to it’s chill, Diluc Ragnvindr of all people was there.

Interrupting her thoughts, he returned with Adelinde who carried a tray, smiling brightly as she set it up across Ophelia’s lap.

“Some black tea, sweet porridge, and strawberries! Please do not hesitate to let me know if you need more, miss! You’ve been through a lot and need to do whatever your body requires” she said sweetly, offering a small bow before leaving.

“Rosaria stopped by last night on her way back to the cathedral. Usually she seems to trust me but she’s rather protective of you. Thankfully she agreed that it was better to let you remain here and rest instead of trying to bring you to the cathedral last night.” He explained as she slowly ate, careful to not spill anything. Nodding, she took a bite of a strawberry, delighted by their sweet flavor.

“These are my favorite, I’m glad you have some” she commented, holding the fruit up to compare it to his hair.

“Yes, Lisa informed me of that” Diluc replied, a blush forming on his face. “What are you doing?”

She giggled, setting it down onto the plate.

“You match them, if I hold it just right it looks like your head is part of it.” She paused, her stormy blue eyes studying him “why was Lisa telling you what my favorite fruit is?”

His gaze seemed to go anywhere but her own.

“Well, I was hoping I could borrow you to help with inventory, and I wanted to insure I could offer foods you enjoyed” he explained, sitting at the foot of the bed.

“Oh, Diluc, you can just ask me to help, you don’t need to cater to me” she assured him, his head lifting as his gaze met hers “as long as I’m available, I will always help you”. She reached towards him instinctively, her hand gently placed on his.

Their eyes locked, hands slowly moving to link with one another, their bodies moving closer.

“I want to make sure you’re receiving the best I can give you though, so you have everything you want and need” he replied, the air growing heavy with anticipation.

“You are that already, you needn’t worry so much” Ophelia spoke quietly, barely above a whisper as her eyes gazed over his lips for a moment.

“Please, may I kiss you” Diluc asked, his tone matching hers.

“Diluc…nothing in this world could make me reject you” she admitted, blushing deeply.

With that confirmation, he leaned in, his lips soft against hers. Her eyes fluttered closed as a quiet moan slipped from her lips. He pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against hers.

The silence was broken by a giggle from Ophelia, Diluc looking at her with a brow raised as he pulled back slightly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was just thinking that if you had done that on Dragonspine, I would have been perfectly fine” she joked, Diluc beginning to laugh with her.

“Well, I’ll just have to make sure I’m with you next time” he promised.

—————————-

Barbara fussed with her equipment, a thermometer in Ophelia’s mouth as Diluc and Rosaria stood off to the side, watching.

“Thank Barbatos you got her to warmth when you did! She’s doing quite well with how quickly you both reacted” Barbara praised, marking a few things down. Turning to face Ophelia, she sighed.

“I must say, as lovely as your family is, I see too much of you all! Your sister and Klee were in just a few days ago! And your father before that! You all need to be more cautious” she gently scolded. Ophelia giggled, nodding.

“I know, we truly do put you through your paces. I’m sure I’ll be delivering you a pie from my mother soon enough though, you know how she is” Ophelia replied, standing up and fixing her clothing. Rosaria hummed in agreement.

“I remember when I found Klee and Fiona wandering Dragonspine, your mother sent me more baked goods than I could ever begin to eat” she added, something akin to a smile on her face.

“Well, I’m glad to help no matter what. Just..try to stay out of trouble! But thankfully you are all set to go now!” Barbara announced, Rosaria saying her goodbyes as she walked away, Barbara hurrying after her.

Diluc gently took Ophelia’s hand in his, his thumb rubbing the back of it softly.

“I’m glad you’re alright. I was so worried as I was bringing you down the mountain.” He confessed, his pale cheeks flushing.

Ophelia felt her heart pounding in her chest, memories of the morning replaying in her mind. She placed her hand on his cheek, lifting up on her tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his lips, the colored sunlight streaming through the cathedral windows making the moment feel drenched in magic. He kissed her back, a soft gasp leaving her lips when he pulled away, their eyes meeting.

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to be sure you always join me then” she teased, him laughing softly but truly considering doing exactly that.

“Well, today I have inventory, so no wandering off into the mountains, please” he requested, pulling back a bit as he recalled that they were in a public location.

“I’ll be able to help you with that at least, the library is closed today”

He furrowed his brows at her suggestion, shaking his head slightly.

“You’re recovering. I can’t possible let you work today.”

“You heard Barbara, she said I’m fine! I won’t strain myself, and I help out in the cathedral healing with Barbara all the time, so if anyone gets hurt, I can save us a trip! Plus, if I’m not there, you can’t keep an eye on me!” Ophelia pleaded, her hands moving back to hold his.

He sighed heavily, taking one of his hands to rub the bridge of his nose.

“Fine. But no moving anything large, I want you mostly sat at the bar marking things and relaxing. Promise.” He looked at her sternly as she smiled sweetly back.

“Yes Sir! I’ll go home first and get freshened up, and come right to the tavern!” She promised, his heart skipping a beat as she spoke, her smile bright.

#genshin impact #genshinimpact #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact diluc #genshin oc

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eveningstar1516 · 3 years

Text

Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 10

Rise of the Demon King Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: I gotta Discord server guys! It's primarily Obey Me but other fandoms are welcome as well. It's kinda baby and dead so me and the other members are looking to revive it and we'd love for you to come join us. A roleplay area is included :) https://discord.gg/F3YEmDZCPS Please remember to read and accept the rules once you join for access to all the channels. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously: Satan spent the rest of the night by his brother's side, cleaning his room and slowly, step by step, bringing back how his brother usually looked like. A glowing masterpiece, worthy of both envy and praise. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ CHAPTER 10 - A Strong Bond (1616 words)

I was sitting at Lucifer's desk in his old room. After spending 3 sleepless nights in a row, Simeon helped me move into Luci’s old room which thankfully had some really good blinds to block out the celestial sun. The paperwork seemed as endless as it had in the Devildom only this time, it was the archangels' work. While they did their share and dealt with their department’s issues, the majority of the work still fell on my shoulders. I’m starting to understand why Lucifer felt this way towards paperwork. I put the pen down as I finished up the last of this week’s paperwork. Looking at the time, I realized I’ve been working for the past 9 hours straight. Getting up, I stretched my back and felt my joints popping. I filed the rest of the work and got dressed in something more comfortable. A simple dark blue turtleneck and white jeans. I made my way to the kitchen, having missed dinner, I wanted to get something to nibble on before bed. Upon entering, I found Raphael at the table with a cup of celestial berry tea. Noticing me, he looked up and waved me over.

“What are you still doing up Raph?” “I could ask the same. Here, we have some leftovers.” Raphael got up and got a plate from the fridge placing it in the microwave before getting another mug to pour more tea in. “Thank you” I took the mug with both hands and slowly sipped it. Relishing the warmth flowing down my throat. Taking the plate out of the microwave, Raphael set it in front of me before ruffling my hair and sitting back down. Laughing I retaliated back.

“H-hey! I’m not a child”

“You are compared to us. An overworked tired child that despite being in over their head, is doing an amazing job at keeping us running.”

“Thank you. It is hard though. I have no idea how Lu did it, still does it.”

“Yeah, Sammy would work himself to exhaustion. You actually remind me of him. Your determination to get the work done flawlessly and your dedication. Are you sure you’re not supposed to be an angel?”

“Heh, thanks Raph, but you and I both know I’m only doing this to go back.”

“Do you have to though? You’ve been here for a full millenia now. Don’t you want to stay?”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s lovely up here and you guys are the absolute best, but I don’t belong here. My heart is in the Devildom with the brothers.”

“Why though? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not criticizing, but why would you rather stay in the Devildom than here?”

“I guess the Devildom just grew on me. The Devildom, and the bro’s. I like the way Belphie looks when he’s sleeping peacefully, his head on my lap. I admire the way Beel protects his twin and his brothers, sacrificing everything to make them happy. I envy the way Asmo can change a tense atmosphere into an up beat one effectively dissolving any tension. I find myself thinking about Satan and the late reading nights we’d have and the discussions about cats and our books. I wish I had as much passion as Levi does with his games and shows. Confidently ranting on about them without caring what others think. I’m amazed by Mammon’s love for his family. Everything he sacrifices to make them happy. He even puts himself in the line of fire and would redirect the attention to himself by doing something stupid to distract them from their suffering. I love Lucifer. I love how much he cares for his family. All he sacrifices, all he endures, all the pain he hides from them to keep them happy. To keep us all happy... I miss them.” Tears started pooling as I reminisced about the brothers. Raphael leaned over and pulled me into a shoulder hug.

“I know you do. If it’s any consolation, I’m sure they miss you too. It sounds like you created a strong bond with them. I’m sure you’ll get to see them soon.”

“I hope so. Thanks Raph.”

“Anytime Y/N. I think you should get some rest. Don’t forget we have a-”

“Y/N, Raphael.” Michael walked into the kitchen. He had a look that closely resembled contentment and relief.

“Michael, how can we help you?”

“You should be in bed Raphael. Father wants to see Y/N. Now.” Raphael and I exchanged a look. I finished off my tea and hugged Raphael goodnight before heading to my room to change into something more appropriate for my meeting with God. 5 minutes later and we were on our way to the palace. In the Devildom After they lost Y/N The day they lost Y/N was the hardest day in their life. After they got back to the house, they both went straight to their room, not talking with anyone. Behind the relative safety of a locked door, Belphie crawled into bed and tried to escape reality. Beel sat on his bed and closed his eyes. He didn’t try to sleep, he didn’t go to the kitchen, he didn’t move. He just sat there, the pain numbing him. They stayed like this for a while before Belphie started tossing and turning, his slumber becoming a restless nightmare. Beel got up and changed into something more comfortable. He moved Belphie over and got under the covers, pulling his twin into his chest. Belphie felt himself being pulled into his older brother's embrace and leaned into it, grief evident on both their faces as they both fell into a dreamless sleep.

The days following weren’t much better. Beel wouldn’t eat as much, practically starving himself and he was rarely found. When any of the brothers would go looking for him, they’d either find him in his room or the gym. Belphie wouldn’t wake up at all anymore. He’d go weeks sleeping, if you could call nightmare filled nights sleeping. He wasn’t any better awake either. When he did wake to attend school or fulfill an order from the king, you could practically see the waves of pure wrath and resentment surrounding him, only dispersing when Beel was close by. There were days where neither of them would leave their room, both just staring into space, little words exchanged. Although they didn’t need to. Their shared bond conveyed more than words could express. The pain amplified by this bond. When Belphie was awake, the twins would practically be inseparable. Neither going anywhere without the other.

This went on for a few months. One day after being rudely awakened from a nap, Belphie found himself wandering the house for a quiet place to sleep. Normally, he’d just head up to the attic, however today, he found his feet leading him down to the catacombs, towards Lilith’s, now Y/N’s casket. He doesn’t know what brought him here, but as soon as he saw it, his eyes started watering. He doesn’t know if it’s because of the memories he has assorted with the casket or if it was because Beel was sitting next to it, leaning his back against the side, crying. Sensing Belphie’s presence, Beel opened his eyes and turned his head towards his twin. He cracked a small, tired smile as Belphie moved to sit next to him. This was the first time Belphegor had seen Beelzebub cry since Y/N’s execution. Sitting next to his brother, he leaned into the larger demon letting his own tears flow. Their hands gravitated toward each other as they took hold. For the first time since the trial, they sat together in silence; tears flowing down their cheeks. Eventually, they fell asleep like this, holding each other's hands. It was Levi that found them. The 3rd born having come down to place the gift he got for Y/N from the convention on the casket. He spotted the twins sleeping with tear stained cheeks and left. He came back down a few minutes later with a blanket and a few snacks for when they awoke. Not wanting to disturb them, he set down the Ruri-chan kit and carefully draped the blanket over them. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was envious of the twins connection and devotion to be there for each other. Then he remembered about their connection. He knows the twins can feel what the other is feeling. He realized that they were probably taking this the hardest, their shared connection amplifying the pain. His envy for them left, replaced by something resembling pity. He left them in the catacombs and retreated to his room. The twins awoke at the same time. They took notice of the blanket draped over them and the fruit tray placed next to them. They exchanged a smile as Beel leaned over to grab the tray, offering the fruit to Belphie first. Belphegor grabbed an apple slice and held it towards Beel. Beel opened his mouth accepting the slice and repeated the action with a clementine. They continued like this, feeding each other until the tray was empty. They stayed down in the catacombs for a little while longer, their bond conveying the vows they made to each other. They’d never leave each other's side. Always be there for their other half.

After that day, Beel would take responsibility for waking the youngest whenever he slept for too long and Belphie took responsibility for making sure Beel ate whenever he was awake. From that day forward, you’d never find one twin without the other close by. Their relationship strengthened, one relying on the other. Always being there when needed.

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

Note

Have you seen the post going around about the zoom class with one guy and his full streamer setup vs the guy whose just in the middle of the woods? I know you have a prompt list rn but I’m just saying there’s a sternclay fic in there somewhere...

It is! Here you go!

Life is better with order. Or, at the very least, with some attempt at patterns, organization, or consistency.

Which is why Stern has carefully arranged his desk, his chair, and his equipment in the background. Streaming as a hobby and a side hustle means he has some (okay, a lot) of practice making his digital self look just right. He needs to make a good impression on the first day of the semester.

Unlike some people.

“Holy shit man, are you in the woods?” Duck, the guy in a “Monongahela National Forest” shirt, grins as he asks this of another student whose screen consists of a forest clearing, a log, and the name “Barclay.”

“Yeah. Hang on, lemme finish getting the phone balanced.”

“Dude, that’s like, way better than my background” this comes from Jake, in front of a poorly rendered half-pipe.

“Can’t really take credit for it, just where I ended up.” Barclay sits down, and Stern gets his first look at a man so tall he barely fits in the frame, with a short, coppery beard and an honest-to-god man-bun.

Damn west coast schools.

“How is your battery going to last long enough for class?” Stern leans back in his chair, certain Barclay will have “battery trouble” halfway through as an excuse to cut out early.

Barclay smiles, lifting up a small green and black rectangle, “solar battery. Not everyone needs fancy gadgets for school.” He aims a pointed stare at Sterns set-up.

“It’s important to have the right equipment.”

“Whatever you say, man.” He lifts a cup of iced coffee into the frame, sipping it through a straw. It’s the picture of relaxation, as if nothing is wrong in the world. As if this is all totally normal.

Stern wants to reach through the screen and slap some sense into him. Preferably while he’s shirtless.

He chalks that thought up to not having gotten laid since last December and pulls up his note taking software as Professor Chicane enters the room.

------------------------------------

Private Chat 9/20/20

Duck (he/him): I timed it, we’re already at ten minutes of arguing.

Indrid (he/him): I know Ned enjoys their demonstrating the different modes of rhetoric, but this is a bit extreme.

Duck: To be fair, Joe does seem kinda uptight.

Indrid: Yes, but Barclay should know by now that zeroing in on him during our practice debates only results in this.

Duck: Yeah. Oh shit, are they for real wrapping up you think?

Indrid: We can only hope. Skype me tonight?

Duck: Of course, sugar.

--------------------------------------

What is Joseph’s problem? He’s got a set-up that would make a pro-vlogger jealous, what looks to be a well-lit apartment with some houseplants and the kind of coffee-cups that are weirdly lacking in personality. His clothes are immaculate, his hair slicked back as if he;s in a business meeting rather than an online class in the midst of a chaotic world. So why is he acting like everything is terrible? And why is he always arguing with Barclay, when there are plenty of other people in the class to disagree with?

“Now” Mr. Chicane’s voice booms through the tiny speaker on his phone, “if you all had a chance to read over the instructions, we will begin the first mock debate. Do we have any volunteers?”

He and Joe raise their hands at the same time. Mr. Chicane raises an eyebrow.

“While I appreciate your eagerness, gentlemen, I would like two other volunteers this time.”

That’s fine by him. It’s not like he likes listening to Joseph get all wound up and passionate, making everyone on the call sit up and take notice of him. It’s not as if he enjoys being the center of his focus.

Nope, not at all.

-----------------------------

Private chat 10/11/20

Jake (he/him): Dudes, did you see who got paired up on the final project?

Aubrey (she/her): Chicane must be getting them back for all the times they’ve hijacked discussions.

Duck (he/him): Man, for their sake I hope it works out.

Indrid (he/him): This is going to be a disaster.

--------------------------------------

“Are you out of your mind!” Stern is talking before Barclay’s video is fully on.

“Nope. And you don’t have to yell, my speaker works just fine.”

“You’re outside, for all I know there’s a ton of ambient noise.”

Barclay, phone obviously in his hand as he walks through the trees, groans.

“And don’t try to derail this; how can you possibly suggest I come out there so we can do the project in person? We’re supposed to be limiting travel and gatherings.”

“Look, Joseph, we both agree that trying to generate our own cryptid hoax is the best way to demonstrate all the techniques Ned wants us too, right?”

“Yes” he hides his answer behind the rim of his coffee mug.

“We’ll do a way better job if we work in the same space. And if it makes you feel any better, I haven’t had any human contact in three weeks; all quarantined up, unlike whatever you’ve been doing in the city.”

He sets the mug down with a thunk, “I haven’t been out in a month. And before that was only for one grocery run and a hospital visit.”

“Uhhh-”

“I cut my hand cooking. So. Yeah.”

Literal crickets chirp, courtesy of Barclay’s end of the line, as the silence stretches on.

“If it helps, it’s real easy to stay isolated here, and I’ve still got utilities and everything.”

“And you’re not subsisting only on MREs or granola or something?”

A deep chuckle, the kind that makes his skin prickle, “Nope. That much I can promise.”

Stern glances around the studio apartment, clean and empty.

“What’s your address?”

------------------------------------

Look, all Stern is going to say is that he’s seen and read plenty of stories that start with a cabin in the woods and none of them end well. Which is why he’s still sitting in his car, parked beside a beat-up Subaru, rather than knocking on the door.

Breathe in, five counts. Out for four. Repeat four times.

Waiting for him on the door is a note.

Joseph,

Key under mat, make yourself at home.

Barclay.

He brings in his bags (a matching set of three, a gift from his aunt last year), placing them in the tiny guest room. It’s not much more than a bed, a dresser, and a tiny table. But there’s a heating unit below the window looking out into the woods, which is pretty pleasant. He’ll be keeping the blinds closed at night, though; he hates the thought of something being able to look in.

Stern’s busy evaluating the laundry closet when the front door opens.

“Hey, glad you found the place okay.”

Barclay stands in the doorway, a basket full of fruit in one hand. He’s remarkably kempt for a man living in the woods and that, combined with the deep voice being even richer in person and the fact Stern has to actually look up to meet his eyes, has him stumbling for words.

“Your directions were very thorough. Thank you. Um. I put my things in there, should I, um-”

“I can give you the grand tour.” The taller man sets the basket on the dining table, notices Sterns puzzled expression “there’s a piece of property about a mile thataway that has orchards they don’t really use. They let me come and pick whenever i want, less for them to clean up.”

Barclay keeps up a steady monologue as he shows him the cabin. The lower level is the living room and dining area, a kitchen which leads onto the back deck, Sterns room, and a bathroom. As the cabin is A-frame, the upstairs is Barclay’s room, all dark wood and pine colored plaid. It’s as Barclay is telling him about the woodpecker that sometimes nests in the eaves that he realizes why he’s talking so much.

He’s nervous.

Neither of their nerves improve when he gets to his last point of order.

“Uh, so, the bathroom downstairs is only a half-bath.”

“So...if I want to shower, which I do, I have to come up here.”

“Yeah.” Barclay scratches the back of his neck, “sorry. I don’t, like, sleep naked or anything so we should be fine.”

“Disappointing.” Stern sighs, only to sail past sarcastic and land face first in sincere.

Barclay blushes, then shrugs, “Trust me, after the first night, you’ll see why.”

Stern does. He’s warm as long as he’s in bed, but the moment he ventures into the bathroom in the middle of the night he’s cocooned in cold.

The morning brings cinnamon and coffee on the draft coming under the door. He plods into the kitchen in search of caffeine, finds Barclay in an pron, the counter covered in trays of dough.

“Morning!”

“Morning. Coffee-”

“Right there, sugar and stuff’s in the cabinet above it, cream and such is in the fridge.”

Blessedly, there’s heavy cream to be found, and soon he’s sipping from an enamel mug emblazoned with a UFO made of veggies.

“Is this all for your job?” Barclay mentioned he was a cook during an icebreaker.

“Yep. Way it works is I bust my ass baking once or twice a day, and Thacker, who works with Mama at the Lodge in town, comes and takes them over there. Normally I’d just be there but, well, y’know.”

“Everything is on fire? Figuratively, I mean.”

“Sometimes literally too, but yeah.”

As he’s turning to grab his clothes and head showerward, Barclay adds, “You a scone man, coffecake man, or a cinnamon roll man?”

“Coffeecake?” It comes out hesitant.

“There’s no right answer, man.” Barclay sounds amused, “what do you want?”

“Cake, definitely.”

“Cool. I’ll save you a slice.”

Once he’s showered and on the wi-fi, his day runs like normal; one lecture, reading, a research paper, his initial half of their project, and working either his copy-editing or transcription job in between, and planning his next stream. Barclay comes and goes, stops now and then to see if he needs anything, leaves a sandwich in front of him around dinner time. Then it’s time to crawl under the covers and dream of a less-stressful world.

The next day, just before one, Barclay taps him on the shoulder.

“Ready for class?”

“Yes…” He gestures to his laptop and notebook.

“C’mon, join me out here, it’s way nicer, and we can share the phone.”

“Barclay, it’s a nonsensical way to attend class, just stay in here with me! Even this set-up has to be better than the woods.”

“This set up. You mean my house?” All the friendliness leaves hi voice.

“Yes. Look, I agreed to come out because you’re right, if we want to ace this thing that’s worth sixty percent of our grade, this is the place to do it; I don’t have to go along with the whole self-sufficient woodsman aesthetic while I’m here. “

“Yeah, I’d say you’re pretty far from self-sufficient. See you in class.”

Stern stews through the entire session, but where he’d usually find something Barclay says to latch onto, he instead gnaws on himself. Why didn’t he just go with him? Why snap at someone who’s been nothing but nice since he got here?

Whatever the answer, how can he fix it?

---------------------------------------

Barclay tromps back through the twilight, done with his second class of the day. If Joseph is in the main house, he plans to ignore him until tomorrow morning. That all goes out the window with the clank of dishes from the kitchen.

Peering in reveals the other man bent over, pulling a casserole from the oven. He waits to announce his presence until Joseph is out of the danger zone, enjoying the view as he does.

“Smells good.”

Blue eyes flick over to him as Joseph opens drawers, “it’s mostly cheese and chips, so I’m not surprised.”

“Servers are in that one.”

“Thank you. Nacho pie?” He scoops some into a bowl, holding it out.

“Sure. Uh, look, Joseph I-”

Joseph holds up the server, “Wait. Before you apologize I, um, I wanted to say I’m sorry for my comments. And for being so...me-ish.” He sighs, staring at the utensil in his grip, “I’ve always been a little bit tense, tried to be polite and effective and friendly in spite of it. The last six months made that harder to do. I don’t love it when I can’t be organized, when normal systems go out of place. But that’s no excuse for being rude to you, even before you invited me here. You’re just so...you’re always so calm and relaxed, like nothing was wrong and I just honed in on that way more than made sense. I’m sorry.”

“If it makes you feel better, I kinda did the same thing. You’re always so put together, it looked like you had this organized life in the midst of this whole shitstorm. I feel lik everything is slipping away, like my world is just this cabin. I mean, I assumed you were seeing friends in the city, while I haven’t seen Mama in person since April. So” he sets the bowl down, rests his hand on Joseph’s shoulder, “I’m sorry too.”

Joseph laughs, softly, “turns out we both had failures of imagination, huh?”

“Yeah” he runs a hand over Joseph's back, “now come on, this dinner’s not gonna eat itself.”

-----------------------------------

“You sure you don’t wanna wear the bigfoot costume?”

“Positive. Besides, it suits you.” Joseph finishes styling the fur on the head of the costume to look more realistic, “I just hope we get this done before that storm comes in; as mush as the rain would add to the mood of the scene, that’ll be hell to dry and you’ll be miserable. So, go lurk over there while I finish up getting the camera settings where they need to be.”

“Yes sir” Barclay pops the head on, leaves crunching as moves to his appointed tree. He smiles as he watches Joseph fiddle with the camera; things have been so much better between them these last two weeks. They trade off cooking dinner, study side by side, and watch movies or play games in the warmth of the heater. They have a similar sense of humor and taste in books, and are tidy to boot. Joseph’s even come with him to listen to lectures in the woods, the pair sharing a thermos of coffee under the astonished gaze of their classmates. There’s just one problem.

Barclay’s buried crush is now blooming in every direction. Animated, argumentative Joseph was attractive. Joseph, in all his moods and mannerisms, is devastatingly enchanting. He’s come close to telling him this, but the other man is his guest and also only here for another two and a half weeks, so a confession is setting himself up for heartbreak at worst and awkwardness at best.

He almost blew it last night when they were washing dishes (Joseph scrubs, Barclay dries and puts away).

“Last one.”

“Thanks, blue eyes.”

“What was that?”

“Uh, blue eyes? Like a, uh, a nickname?”

Joseph laughs, “Sounds like something from a Raymond Chandler book. I like it.”

On the plus side, if Joseph thinks it’s just a nickname and not a pet name, maybe Barclay can keep using it.

“Are you ready?’

He sticks up a hairy thumb and calls, “you know it, blue eyes.”

That same laugh as Joseph takes up his position. Maybe it’s the weird film over the costume’s eyes, but Barclay swears he sees a blush.

-------------------------

Stern trawls through the search results. Their video is getting some traction, with two cryptid hunter sites claiming it’s credible footage. He’s making note of how the information spread, which threads lead to belief and which to doubt, when Barclay calls from upstairs.

“Joseph? Little help?”

The other man is in the bathroom, and when Stern knocks he says, “Think the pilot light on the water heater went out again, all I’m getting is cold water. Can you go relight it?”

“Sure.” He gets to the stairs then, stops, “where’s the key to that closet?”

“Huh? Oh, shit, right, hang on” Barclay says at the same time as Stern’s “don’t worry, I can find it.”

Which is why the instant he turns back into the bedroom is the same instant Barclay steps out of the bathroom, blue towel around his waist.

Any blood that doesn’t head south goes instantly to Stern’s cheeks.

“You okay there, blue-eyes?”

“It’s completely unfair how good you look without a shirt.”

He clamps a hand over his mouth.

“Idn’t ean to ay at out oud” The mumbled explanation makes Barclay smirk.

“You like this, should see what’s under the towel.”

The unusually bold statement from Barclay kindles his own confidence.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, big guy.”

“Who says I won’t.” Barclay sits down on the edge of the bed, nonchalant and leaning back on his hands, “got plenty of time to make good on them.”

“We literally don’t. I go back in a week and two days.”

Barclay toys with the lint on the towel, “you could stay. Through break, through next semester, for however long you wanted.”

“Do you mean that?”

A shy nod, “I like having you around, Joseph. Even beyond the huge fucking crush I have on you I...everything is a little better when you’re around.”

“I, um, I guess it could work. We know next semester is online too, and so is work, so…” there must be variables missing, something he’s not seeing, some reason this is too good to be true.

“You want some space away from shirtless me to think about it?”

“That’d be great.”

Barclay stands, hesitates, then plants a quick kiss on his forehead, “take all the time you need, blue eyes.”

------------------------------

Private Chat log 1/11/2021

Barclay (he/him): Did you see the look on Duck’s face when we turned up in frame together.

Joseph (he/him): Yes. Pretty sure Aubrey yelled something about him needing to pay up. I wonder what the bet was.

Barclay (he/him): Whatever it was, pretty sure I came out the biggest winner.

Stern snorts, trying not to blush on camera, and leans over to kiss his boyfriend on the cheek.

#agent stern/barclay #sternclay #taz amnesty #college AU

63 notes · View notes

dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

BTS Reaction || Another Member Doesn’t Like You

Seokjin:

It didn't take a genius to work out that Min Yoongi didn't like you, you knew it and so did everyone else but your boyfriend Jin, who insisted that Yoongi did like you, he was just tired whenever you were around together and that's why he threw comments at you that made you uncomfortable or left whenever you were coming to the dorms to hang out with Jin. You just got on with the fact that you couldn't get along with everyone and not everyone was going to get along with you, so you did your best to stay out of Min Yoongi's way, you figured it would be best that way, you stay out of his way meaning no more sly comments about your relationship with Jin or how you dressed or acted and that plan was going well until now. Jin had invited you down to the studios to come and see him before you went out to lunch together and you were just about to get into the elevator when Yoongi appeared and got into it before you, to save an argument you took the staircase instead heading up towards the dance studio where Jin told you to meet him inside.

"Jin?" You called out, walking further into the darkroom feeling along the wall for the light switch, you flicked it on and no one was inside so you went and sat on the floor by the back of the room, knowing Jin would be there soon to come and meet you and that he was probably just held up somewhere in the building.

"Jin why did you want to meet in here?" You heard Yoongi question, shutting the door behind him but not looking up from his phone, you looked up and he stared at you.

"Jin?" He called out sending you a glare and turning back to the door which was slammed shut behind him, you got up on your feet and walked over to it, trying to open it and groaning when you realised it was locked.

"It's locked." You said in a low tone to Yoongi who grumbled something before pushing you out of the way and trying the door for himself as if he had some magical ability to be able to open it.

"You mean we're stuck in here?" He questioned, pulling harder at the handle as if that was going to do anything.

"It's locked." He repeated and you resisted the urge to tell him you told him so, you took out your phone and began texting Jin to come and let you out, and that it wasn't funny.

(X)

"Nothing from Jin?" Yoongi questioned breaking the silence you had both been sitting in for the last hour, you checked your phone and shook your head.

"Nothing." You whispered back to him, reaching down into your bag and pulling out a bottle of water, offering it to Yoongi instead of drinking from it right away.

"Thanks." He whispered taking it away and drinking from it, you reached through your bag trying to find something else for you both.

"I have some fruit, crisps and a chocolate bar if you're hungry?" You questioned, he looked at you with a raised eyebrow and came closer to you.

"I am pretty hungry." You let out a small laugh and handed him the food, while he was eating you played with your fingers, unsure of how to bring up any conversation with him as this was the most you'd talked to one another without an insult being thrown in your direction.

"Why do you hate me?" You blurted out, he almost choked on the piece of chocolate he was eating and looked at the floor, you needed to know why if you were going to avoid him.

"I don't hate you-" You cut him off with a laugh and threw your head back against the mirrored wall you were sitting along.

"Yoongi you insult me all the time, I'm constantly getting glared at and you always leave when I'm around." He felt bad that you thought he hated you, he didn't particularly like you but he didn't hate you.

"I don't...I just, when you and Jin first started dating it threw him off his game, he stopped practising so hard and he just thought and talked about you all of the time...I didn't want to be around someone who could be taking the chances of our dreams away from us." You sighed and looked at him, finally he was opening up to you about it.

"I told Jin I didn't want to be a distraction, and that I didn't want to date him if it was going to start something." Yoongi shook his head, turning to face you now and making sure you were looking at him.

"I've never hated you though. I figured it was easier to stay away from you then to get distracted as well." You nodded and smiled a little, looking up into his eyes, his were soft and a small smile was on his lips, this was the first time he'd smiled at you in the whole time you'd known him.

"I promise to keep him on track and not distract him anymore, you guys are amazing at what you do and I've loved your music forever." The door began to rattle and you both got to your feet.

"After all you are my favourite rapper." You said as Jin came through the door, you rushed over to him leaving a kiss on his cheek and smiling.

"Beside Jin of course." You giggled and Yoongi chuckled along with you.

"You haven't killed one another so that's a good sign." You heard Namjoon say from outside the dance studio door, you sent him a playful glare and Jin took your hand in his, getting ready to take you to lunch like he'd promised.

Yoongi:

Multiple times you told Yoongi to slow down and take regular breaks when he needed to but he wouldn't listen to you, he wouldn't listen to anyone and with the new comeback coming up he was working even harder than before so you tried to make sure he took breaks whenever he could, or whenever you could get him to. You knew that this was his dream but he still needed to take breaks or he could get sick, you tried to talking to the other guys to help you get him to relax but none of them could get him to relax either. That's how you ended up here, on your way to the hospital after getting a phone call from Namjoon at 3 am telling you he found Yoongi passed out in his studio, you were in a race to the hospital, you didn't think there would be much traffic since it was 3 in the morning but it was still busy. Once you got to the hospital and called Namjoon to let him know you were outside but he said he'd gone back to the apartment to get some clothes for Yoongi and to call Hoseok who was upstairs with him, you hung up and debated it for a second. You and Hoseok didn't see eye to eye at all, for some reason he'd just never liked you, your finger hung above the call button next to his name and you sighed locking the phone and going into the hospital to find Yoongi yourself.

(X)

"Y/N?" You heard someone ask from behind you, you were standing at the nurse's station trying to find out some information on where Yoongi was being held but they weren't telling you anything, you looked over your shoulder to see Taehyung standing there with a tray of hot drinks, you smiled at him softly and then looked around.

"Is he on this floor? They won't tell me anything." You sighed, he nodded for you to follow him and you went through the halls together, he was about to talk to you when you reached Yoongi's room, you could see him through the small window and wanted to cry, it felt like your whole world had stopped, he was laid in the bed with an IV in his arm and he looked like he hadn't slept in weeks.

"You." You heard someone say, your attention was dragged away from Yoongi to Hoseok who was storming over to you, red in the face with anger, Taehyung awkwardly walked into the room and left you and Hoseok in the hall alone.

"This is your fault." You were taken back but let him continue his verbal attack on you,

"You did this to him! Always wanting to go out on dates! Spending time together! He had to stretch himself so thin he got sick!" He yelled gaining attention from nurses but you kept your head down, you'd never seen Hoseok this angry before with anyone and you knew he needed to be mad at someone right now.

"You should just break up and make it easier on everyone." You looked behind him at Yoongi who was still asleep but then back at Hoseok who was still angry with you.

"I get that you're angry Hoseok but this isn't my fault." You whispered not wanting to drawer any more unwanted attention but he wasn't having it, he was shaking his head and yelling again.

"But it is, you're always asking him for attention, or to take you out, or to come home and spend time with you when he needs and has to work." That was it, you had enough. You knew Hoseok didn't like you but he didn't need to pin something that wasn't your fault on you and spin-off fake facts.

"Listen, I get that you're mad okay Hoseok and I know you hate me for some reason but I didn't do this. I didn't put him in this hospital bed." You said, he tried to cut you off but you held up your hands to stop him from talking.

"All those times when I was asking him for 'attention' or to come home was to get him to rest because he needed sleep a and real meal for once Hoseok instead of living off take away and sleeping on his sofa! I was trying to prevent him from ending up in this place, not make him stretch so thin he'd be here." You pushed past his shoulder going to the door but he took your wrist in his hand to stop you from moving away from him, you turned around ready for another argument with him but you found him crying, tears streaming down his cheeks, you stepped closer to him half expecting him to move away but he stepped into your arms and hugged you, you hugged back softly patting his back in a comforting way and shh'd him as he cried into your arms.

"What did the doctors say?" You questioned when you pulled away from each other, he wiped his eyes and both of you looked at Yoongi on the bed.

"That he'll be okay after a night here, and that he has to go home on bed rest." You sighed leaning your head against the cold glass.

"Bedrest? That's not going to be easy with him." Hoseok chuckled in agreement and then looked at you, you frowned and looked down at yourself, you were dressed in your Mang PJ's, you laughed and rolled your eyes.

"Mang's the best." You admitted causing him to laugh a little more coming to stand next to you and look at his sleeping best friend.

"I don't hate you by the way." He admitted you looked up at him with a raised eyebrow,

"I just hated the way Yoongi would always be too busy for anything anymore." You nodded in agreement.

"Well he'll be on bed rest, you can help me get him to stick to it."

Hoseok:

You agreed to go on tour with Hoseok, your boyfriend of six months when he asked you because you figured it would be great to spend time together even though he would be on tour, he assured you it would be fun and you guys would enjoy it and you agreed. You were taking some work with you from college so you could study while he was busy and you wouldn't in the way of them when they had practice or a show. The first month of the tour was going great except for the fact that Namjoon was giving you glares every chance he could or sending snide comments whenever he could, you did your best to ignore it but it was getting to be every time you would come to see Hoseok now, and when you were alone waiting for Hoseok to finish practising he would have something to say to anyone in the room about you, thinking you couldn't hear him or saying it knowing you could hear him and not caring. Today was no different, you'd come by the arena to meet Hoseok for lunch and he was running late so you waited with some of the stylists, Namjoon walked in and let out a grown when he saw you sitting there, you ignored him and he sat on the sofa behind you.

"Don't you just hate being distracted at work, you would think people have something better to do with their time." You ignored him, playing on your phone when you heard him say something about that too.

"Using people for their money as well, that's something that really grinds my gears." You looked up in the mirror to see him staring in your direction, an evil glare playing on his lips so you got up from the seat going to the door.

"Imagine using someone for their money." You'd had enough so you stopped yourself from walking out of the door and turned around to look at Namjoon who was laughing to himself.

"I wouldn't know, I'm not using my boyfriend for anything." You said going to the door but he stopped you,

"You have a new laptop, new phone and are currently visiting different countries but sure...you're not using Hoseok for anything, he's too blind to see through you but I'm not." You scoffed pulling your bag over your shoulder and shook your head at him.

"I get that you hate me Namjoon but I love him, I never asked for those things he did that. Now I think I'll go home, and not hotel home, I mean Home, home so I'll let you explain it to Hoseok." You said going to the door again but Namjoon's last words caught your attention.

"I wouldn't miss you. Nobody would." Your breath hitched in your throat and everyone in the room fell into a total silence by what he'd just said to you.

"Well, you explain to Hobi where I am and why I'm gone." You said, leaving and slamming the door behind you.

(X)

The knock on the hotel room door caught your attention, Hoseok probably forgot his key again so you got up and walked over to it, opening it to see Namjoon standing there before you could slam the door in his face he put his foot in the way to stop you.

"What do you want?" You questioned throwing clothes into your suitcase and trying to find everything you had in the room so you could go and catch a plane ride home.

"To apologise." You scoffed at him, ignoring him and going to find the bathroom products that you'd packed.

"I mean it, what I said was mean...What I always say to you is mean." He admitted you stopped in the doorway to the bathroom and bedroom and looked at him, he was being serious.

"It's fine." You lied.

"No it's not, what I said was out of order and I don't hate you." You scoffed again and came back to the suitcase, folding up some clothes and adding them into it.

"I'm serious, I don't hate you."

"You make it hard to believe." You sighed at him but he nodded in agreement.

"When Hoseok told us you were coming I didn't want you to and it's not because I hate you, because I don't. I think you're the best thing to ever happen to Hoseok but I hated the fact that there would be another distraction for us all...As the leader-"

"You want them to have their heads on right and be in total concentration mode...I told Hoseok that but he promised it would be fine and that he asked you before he asked me to come." Namjoon chuckled and sat on the bed next to your suitcase.

"Yeah he did, I just didn't have the heart to say no to him." You nodded and looked at the case.

"Still want me to leave?" He shook his head, taking out one of your college books and flicking through it.

"No, who else will tell me facts I don't know and who else will I get to tell my facts to." You smiled and he chuckled, nodding over at the door.

"Now let's get back to the arena, I promised Hoseok I'd bring back coffee."

Namjoon:

You were waiting for forNamjoon in his bedroom at the dorms when you heard him come through the door, you wiped the tears from your cheeks, you'd had a fight with one of your close friends that day and she told you never to talk to her again so you knew it was over, the friendship had been toxic for a while but you thought you were close enough to overcome it but apparently not. So you came to see Namjoon, your boyfriend, but he wasn't home so Taehyung let you in and let you hide out in his room until he got home from the studios.

"Baby?" You looked up from the bed to see Namjoon standing there, he dropped his bag onto the floor as soon as he saw you'd been crying and rushed to your side to sit with you and hold you while you told him what was wrong and going on that day, but you knew he had another dance practice later with Jimin so you told him to leave it, you didn't want to keep him from it again since you'd already done it twice this week, you and Jimin didn't get along on the best of days so you didn't want to give him an extra reason to hate you.

"You have practice." You tried to protest but he said nothing, just sat back in the bed with you in his arms, rubbing small circles into the bottom of you back while you told him what happened to you.

(X)

You must have fallen asleep because you woke up to yelling coming from outside of Namjoon's bedroom door, you climbed out of the bed and went to open the door but stopped when you heard your name being mentioned.

"She's just having a rough time right now Jimin." You heard Namjoon defend you but Jimin was having none of it.

"Practice is more important." You wanted to tell him you agreed but Namjoon started talking again.

"She's having a hard time Jimin, her friend just ditched her." Namjoon walked away and you came out into the hall, Jimin looked up at you and scoffed. You were a mess, your hair was thrown into a messy bun, tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

"No wonder nobody likes you." You felt your heartbreak a little, you knew Jimin didn't like you but he'd never been so direct with it, it was normally sly comments about it or ignoring you whenever you tried to do something nice for him.

"Look Jimin it's not my fault he won't go." You tried to explain but he wasn't having any of it, he went to walk away and ignoring you as he always did but you weren't having it this time, you grabbed his wrist in your hand and made him stop walking away from you.

"No, you're going to listen to me." You ordered, he stared at your hand and then back up to your face so you dropped his wrist from your hand.

"I'm trying to make him go to practice, I told him I was fine but he's insisting Jimin it isn't my fault...What am I supposed to do to make him go? Leave him? Will that make you happy?" You felt tears rushing to your eyes at just the thought of leaving Namjoon but if it would make things calmer between them you didn't mind. Anyone would be blind if they didn't notice the tension between Namjoon and Jimin at the moment, ever since Joonie started seeing you more and more, things with Jimin got tense and he started being rude to his Hyung.

"Maybe it'll make things easier on everyone if you did, we'd have our leader back." You nodded, giving in and looking at him, thinking that if you did you would end up crying in front of him and that's not what you wanted to do.

"Can I ask why you hate me?" You questioned, you had to know what his problem was before everything with Namjoon was potentially thrown away.

"Because you're a huge distraction to Namjoon." You shook your head, you knew he hated you before you and Namjoon got serious, back when you were just friends.

"No you hated me before that, back with Joonie and I were just friends." You stated, remembering all of the times you used to come over and he would instantly leave the house or ignore you all of the time.

"I didn't hate you. It was just easier that way." You frowned, standing your ground.

"What was easier?" He sighed and looked up and down the hall before continuing to speak.

"I used to like you...Namjoon never knew about it, no one did so I started to hate you. It was easier to hate you than to like you and see you with someone else." Your mouth formed an 'O' shape and you went to ask him something but he answered before you could get the question out to him.

"I don't like you like that anymore, but I don't hate you...You have to know it's not hate it's just how I deal with it." You nodded and looked at him in silence for a couple of seconds,

"Do you think we could try and get along? Act like civilised people?" He looked at you, your eyes bloodshot and still badly swollen from the crying you'd been doing all afternoon and nodded,

"Yeah sure, I have some ben and jerry's stashed away and we can get you something for your eyes to bring down the swelling." You smiled brightly and nodded.

"I'd love that." You both walked down the hall together in silence coming out into the living room where everyone looked up at you, neither of you were throwing insults at each other and Namjoon was shocked.

"I'm going to get you some cold tea bags for your eyes, make sure you get comfy." You went over to the sofa and Jin stared at you in disbelief.

"You're just friends now?" You nodded with a smile and lent your head on his shoulder.

"We are."

Jimin:

You were supposed to be meeting Jimin for a meal tonight for your anniversary but you'd been waiting in the restaurant for an hour and he never showed up, you walked out of the restaurant with your head kept down, not wanting people to look at you and have yourself feel more embarrassed than before. You took out your phone to find out where your boyfriend was when you were met with drunken messages from him, he was with Taehyung and both of them were drinking back at the dorms, you groaned going to find a taxi to take you back home where you would go to bed and ignore his drunken calls and messages all night. You weren't mad that he forgot your plans you were just annoyed, but you knew he wanted to spend time with his friends, he'd not seen them much on the break they were all on and it was just a small anniversary meal, no big deal.

(x)

"Jimin?" You quizzed as you opened your front door to find him standing there, or rather, leaning there. It was 2 am and he was drunkenly trying to talk to you, he'd been calling all night but you ignored your phone, wanting him to have time with his friends, You let him inside and he went over to the sofa, crashing onto it and crying.

"What's wrong?" You panicked rushing to his side in case he'd hurt himself on the way over to your apartment.

"I forgot our anniversary." You sighed and went to go and get him some water to sober up with.

"It's nothing Jimin, you were having fun with Tae." Jimin let out a fake laugh and laid back on the sofa, he knew you and Taehyung didn't get along.

"But it's our day and I spent it with someone you hate." You sat him up handing him the cup of water and making him drink from it.

"I don't hate him Jimin." You defended, he nodded in disagreement with you,

"You do, Tae told me you hate him and he doesn't like you." You didn't want to fight him on this tonight so you got up to find him some blankets when the doorbell began ringing, you walked over to find Taehyung standing there, sober.

"He's on the sofa." You said moving out of the way and letting him into the apartment, he looked at Jimin and then are you.

"You're so pathetic you know." You were taken back at what he said to you, you frowned and looked at him then to Jimin who was now asleep on the sofa, empty cup in his hand.

"Why's that?" You questioned, going over and moving the glass from Jimin's grasp so he wouldn't smash it in his sleep, Taehyung shook his head at you.

"Texting him all night to get him to come over here when he hasn't seen me in a month, we were having fun." You crossed your arms over your chest and stared at him.

"Excuse me, but Jimin was the one texting and calling me all night. I ignored his texts because he was with you despite it being our anniversary and him forgetting our meal and leaving me alone in a restaurant for an hour." You defended yourself, there was no need for Taehyung to be like this with you, you knew he hated you but you didn't actually know why he hated you so much.

"Oh." You scoffed and moved into the kitchen placing the glass in the sink and going on the hunt for a blanket for Jimin, you had no chances of moving him up to the bedroom and you knew waking him up would be a bad idea.

"You had an anniversary dinner?" You nodded laying a blanket over Jimin and looking up at Taehyung who, for the first time, looked like he was sorry towards you.

"I'm not bothered, he needed time with you." You said going into the kitchen and signalling for him to follow you, you began making a cup of coffee and a hot chocolate.

"I knew he missed you over the break, so I understood...What I don't understand is why he thinks you think I hate you." Taehyung sat down on the barstool in the kitchen and looked at you.

"You don't hate me?" You shook your head with a frown on your face,

"Why would I hate you?" You slid him his drink and he shrugged his shoulders,

"I just assumed you did...So I hated you back." You let out a small laugh but stopped yourself when you saw how hurt he was about this misunderstanding.

"Taehyung, I don't hate you. I think you're amazing, in fact...Don't tell Jimin but you're my favourite." He chuckled and sipped on his drink.

"Well I'm glad that's out of the way, I should get going though." You shook your head.

"Stay over, if you help me move Jimin up to the bed you can have the guest room tonight. I'm sure Jimin will love to hear the story of how we both thought we hated one another for the longest time."

Taehyung:

You and Jungkook had grown up together so when he started to act strangely with you it was weird, he stopped hanging around with you and started insulting you whenever he got the chance to, people always say that friends grow apart so you assumed that's what happened with Jungkook but it didn't stop it hurting less, especially when every secret you ever told him he was telling to everyone else. In the end, you stopped trying to keep your friendship alive and decided to ignore him like he was doing to you, family members stopped trying to force you to be friends and you never spoke again, that was until you began dating one of his friend Taehyung, but you didn't know they were friends when you started dating. Things were awkward at first, considering Tae didn't know you were friends before and just invited you to hang out all the time, you and Jungkook would act civilised in front of him but as soon as Taehyung was out of earshot you were getting insults over and over again.

Today was no different, Taehyung had invited everyone out to dinner to celebrate the fact that you'd just landed your dream job and Jungkook was coming along. The restaurant was lovely but if you'd organised this event you could never afford it which made you feel guilty that Tae was splashing his cash for you, even if it was a celebration.

"To Y/n," Namjoon said with a giant smile on his face, you smiled back at him and everyone cheered before drinking from their glasses.

"Yeah congrats," Jungkook said sarcastically in your ear, you ignored him and went to get another drink from the bar, him following behind you. You continued to ignore him until he began whispering insults at you, you looked over at the table, the boys were lost in their own conversations.

"Can you please be happy for me for five minutes?" You questioned with a raised eyebrow but he began laughing at you, you felt your blood boil as soon as he did this,

"What is your problem Jungkook?" You spat at him wanting answers now, you were sick of this Freud that he had with you.

"You're my problem." You scoffed at him and ordered a drink, going back to looking at Jungkook once again.

"What's wrong with me? What did I do?" He stared at you, you really didn't know what you did to him?

"You know what you did." He said trying to walk away but you forced him to stand there and talk to you about whatever it was he was talking about.

"You spread all those rumours in school, about us being together, about me, telling everyone my secrets." He said to you, you stared at him puzzled by what he was talking about.

"You did that to me Jungkook not the other way round, you singled me out and spread all of the secrets I told you." He shook his head at you, a cocky smile across his face and you had enough.

"Jungkook I assure you I kept every secret you ever told me...Even though you made my life a living hell I've kept everything a secret because that's what best friends do." You scoffed going over to the table and excusing yourself for some fresh air, Taehyung tried to come with you but you told him you would be fine alone.

(X)

"Leave me alone Jungkook," You said as he came out onto the balcony of the restaurant.

"You really didn't spread any rumours?" You shook your head at him and looked out at the view of the city in front of you.

"I wouldn't do that, unlike someone I know." He sighed and came to your side, putting his jacket over your shoulders.

"I thought you did it first...I was getting payback." You sighed and laid your head on the balcony bar in front of you.

"Well, it hurt like a bitch." He chuckled at you and you giggled along with him, it felt good to be together and not have him insulting you the entire time.

"I don't hate you though...When I heard those rumours and secrets I pushed you away, it was easier to hate you than to deal with the fact that you'd done that...or I guess not done that." You nodded in agreement with him and looked at him.

"I didn't do it, maybe now we can go back to being friends? It'd be nice to be in the same room as you and not dread what you're going to say to me." He nodded and gave you a side hug and you smiled.

"Now let's go celebrate your new job."

Jungkook:

Dating Jungkook was one of the best things to happen to you, you met him in the small cafe you work at and it was love at first sight. He'd come in every day for the same drink just to speak to you until you finally gave him your number. You'd been dating for seven months now and you were close to all of his friends, well all of them except for Jin. He didn't like you very much from what you could tell so you tried to stay out of his way whenever you went over to the dorms or hung out with them all. You didn't know why he didn't like you, you just knew he didn't like you and you accepted it, not everyone was going to like you. From all the death glares that were sent your way and snide comments, he made about you or in front of you about you. If anyone else heard them it would sound like banter between friends but you knew it wasn't that, it was something more than that. He would purposely go out of his way to make sure you felt singled out and out of place whenever you went to events with Jungkook, so much so that you stopped accepting Jungkook's offers to go out together and just hang out alone.

(X)

You were dressed in a red silk gown, Jungkook had invited you to be his date at a charity event tonight so you were going all out, you'd saved up all your money to buy your own dress and felt proud of yourself.

"You look stunning," Jungkook said as you walked through the charity hall together looking for everyone else, you walked over and he smiled leaving you alone with Jin and Jimin while he went to find you some drinks.

"I'll go help him," Jimin said leaving you alone, you wanted to scream out for him to stay but he was gone so you smiled politely at Jin and looked around the room, going to make small talk when he started first.

"I'm surprised you let Jungkook come, you're usually wanting to keep him to yourself." You looked at him but he was looking in the opposite direction so you ignored his comment, wanting Jungkook to hurry up back so you could get away from Jin.

"Your dress looks expensive, get Jungkook to buy it for you?" You stared at him, was he being serious right now? You looked down at the dress and back up at Jin. You weren't going to stand around all night and have insults thrown at you before you could open your mouth to talk he was walking out of the room, so you followed behind him, making him stop before he went into the men's bathroom,

"I know most people don't like me; I don't care, I don't like most people but what is your problem with me?" You questioned finally wanting answers from him instead of stupid comments about you but he scoffed trying to walk away again, you grabbed his wrist and forced him to stand there until he told you.

"I haven't told Jungkook you hate me or make snide comments about me so you can either tell me your problem or I will tell him everything." You threatened, not meaning it and hoping he wouldn't call your bluff.

"I hate you because you're you. You're always keeping Jungkook away from us, he's always with you instead of with us. When we're supposed to practise he's distracted when we're supposed to have a nice evening he brings you along, like tonight. You're just using him for his money so do us all a favour and just leave him." With that, he walked into the restroom and left you outside of the door with a dumb look on your face but this wasn't over.

He came back out and you were still standing there, going through your purse, once you found what you were looking for you pushed it into his chest.

"The receipt for the dress I bought, I have paycheques at home from all three of my jobs I work despite Jungkook begging me to quit because he can 'care' for me, I'm not using him for anything. I happen to love him." You said closing your purse and looking up at Jin who looked shocked that you were doing this.

"I love him enough that I stayed away from one of his best friends who wouldn't stop insulting me as if we were in school together and it was the normal thing to do. I tell him to go to practise and concentrate, it's not my fault if he doesn't Jin...Tell him I wasn't feeling well." You said going over to the exit but being stopped by his hand on your wrist.

"Look...I'm sorry. I thought him being away from us was your fault because you told him not to stay with us...Not because of me." You nodded and he let go of your wrist,

"Can we start over?" You thought about it, it would be nice to not have to avoid the boys all of the time.

"I'd love that Jin."

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